Finding His Lone Star Love. Amy Woods

after they’d served all the visitors was possibly the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten—despite her general hatred of salads—but that didn’t mean he was the right man for the job. Although, at the moment, she was having a really hard time coming up with reasons to support the contrary conclusion.

      “I guess he did sort of save my butt, huh?” Lucy said, glad she’d made the wrong call. Tessa made no effort to hide her victory.

      “He did way more than that. He saved the observatory money,” Tessa added. “Can you imagine what would have happened if all of those people went back to Austin and told everyone they knew that the Lonestar Café had no food?”

      Lucy didn’t need to answer. They were both aware of the exponential damage that could be caused by a single customer’s bad experience.

      “I guess he can stick around for another day or so. We’ll see how well he does planning a menu for tomorrow, and if he doesn’t run off with the company credit card when I send him for groceries, maybe we can let him stay.”

      Tessa nodded in agreement.

      Sam finished washing his hands and came out of the propped-open kitchen door to join them at their table in the dining room. His hair stuck out all over and he was covered in various food messes, but still, the man was gorgeous.

      “So,” he said, searching Lucy’s face with what looked like a mix of hopefulness and apprehension, “do I get the job?”

      “Not so fast, Mr. Haynes,” Lucy answered. “I still know nothing about you. And I’ll need some form of ID to give to Human Resources if you’re staying.” Lucy held up an authoritative forefinger. “Notice I said if.”

      Sam grinned and something stirred deep in Lucy’s chest. He really was beyond appealing, scientifically speaking. His face was symmetrical with a perfectly proportioned nose and a strong, angular jaw. His eyes were the soft golden shade of fresh caramel, and his collar-skimming sandy hair picked up the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows of the café. He stretched long arms across the table easily, as if he was completely comfortable here, despite his very recent arrival, and Lucy couldn’t help but notice the shoulder muscles flexing under his crisp white dress shirt.

      Since when did she notice things like that about a man?

      She was Lucy Monroe, quiet, hardworking wallflower, just as she had always been.

      She was happy here at the observatory, but she’d long ago given up on any thoughts of romance, or men in general. The guys at the observatory were much too absorbed in their work, and the married ones, well, Lucy sometimes had difficulty figuring out how they’d got that way in the first place, as clueless as some of them were about the opposite sex. They certainly never noticed her for anything other than her interest in the field of astronomy. Even though she hadn’t finished school, she loved to hear their theories and any updates in their research. In a way, she lived vicariously through them—they were a connection to what she might have been.

      But dating any of those guys? No way, and part of her liked it that way. The status quo kept her from having to admit to herself that she was afraid of anything resembling a relationship. She had become involved with a few guys in the past, and things with Jeremy had been serious. When that part of her life hadn’t worked out, she’d finally paid due attention to the glaring signals that she just wasn’t cut out for romance, and she’d given up trying.

      Besides, she didn’t have time for that sort of thing. She had her management work—more than any one human could possibly ever finish—and she had Shiloh, whom she loved more than anything else in the world, but who required more time and attention than other kids her age, or at least Lucy thought so.

      Though lately, Shiloh had been resisting anything to do with her aunt, pushing Lucy away whenever she tried to talk to the girl she considered her own daughter. It was hurtful sometimes, Lucy had to admit, but she only wanted what was best for her niece; she’d dedicated her life to making a decent living and to providing the best she could for the girl. Parenting was sometimes a thankless job, and it didn’t matter that Lucy hadn’t chosen the position for herself. She was the only true parent Shiloh had, and Shiloh was Lucy’s whole world now. She would do anything to make her niece happy—a wish that sometimes seemed as far off as the moon.

      “Got it. If I’m hired,” Sam said, breaking the silence and raising his hands in surrender, his thick voice teasing. His smile widened and small creases formed near his brown eyes. Lucy felt her face warm and she had to look away, uncomfortable with his attention. She knew he only wanted the job, and was probably just trying to charm his way into it, but all the same she felt as if she was the only girl in the room when he looked at her across the table.

      Usually, when Tessa was in the room, it was pretty hard to feel that way. Her friend had been a cheerleader in school, and even though she was gorgeous, she’d latched on to Lucy the first day of second grade and had never let go, despite the differences in their social statuses. It was only one of the many things Lucy loved about her sweet best friend. But sometimes, she had to admit, being around pretty Tess brought her straight back to their school days, when Lucy felt inadequate despite her history of perfect grades and the commendations she’d received before she’d been forced to give up her scholarship at the university to take care of Shiloh.

      Shiloh. Lucy checked her watch and stood up from the table. She needed to meet her niece at the bus stop soon.

      “I’m sorry to cut this short, Mr. Haynes—Sam—but I have to head out and meet my niece. Would it be possible for you to meet me here in the morning? I can get James to show you the ropes for breakfast. He’s the dishwasher for the early shift, but he usually puts out a small spread for morning visitors and for the volunteer docents and other employees—nothing fancy or complicated. Muffins and fruit and coffee—that sort of thing. Then, later, if you decide you’d like to stick around a bit, we can talk about working out a menu and deal with the shopping. I hate to do it, but we may have to close the café if we can’t work something out. And I can’t thank you enough for your help today.” Lucy met Sam’s eyes and noticed their hazelnut color for the hundredth time since they’d met only a short while earlier. It was silly, really, how much trouble she had focusing with him around.

      “Don’t mention it again,” Sam said, that warm smile causing both his face, and Lucy’s heart, to light up. “I’m glad I could help. And of course, I’d be happy to help with breakfast in the morning. Should I arrive at seven? I noticed the café opens at nine.”

      It was almost too good to be true. Lucy didn’t trust those kinds of things, but did she really have another choice at this point?

      The answer was obvious. “Seven is good,” she said, running a hand through her bangs, which likely only caused further frizzy disarray.

      “Let me walk you to wherever you’re heading, Ms. Monroe. I’d really like to see the grounds if you don’t mind. Get more comfortable with the place.”

      Lucy hesitated. Shiloh would be happy to see she’d brought someone along with her; it seemed the nascent social butterfly was friendly with just about anyone but Lucy lately.

      “All right, that’s fine,” she said, checking her watch again. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

      Sam held the back door open for her, and Lucy followed him out of the café, locking up behind her. Tessa mouthed goodbye from inside the window with a wave and a sneaky smile, which Lucy promptly ignored. Her friend headed back to the front desk, where she supposedly worked once in a while when she wasn’t busy pestering Lucy.

      She and Sam walked a few areas of the grounds, Lucy naming the telescopes for him. Bless him; he didn’t seem bored by her explanations of the different mirror and dome sizes and how the giant instruments deciphered light from distant stars.

      She stopped talking and looked at Sam, embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I’m going on and on. I just love this place. And I like to see other people show interest in space. We have so much to learn from the galaxies out there. There’s a whole world beyond our own,