The Maverick's Midnight Proposal. Brenda Harlen

good stuff,” she told him.

      He lifted his mug, swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “It seems that you have me at a disadvantage.”

      “How so?”

      “You obviously know my name—and apparently a lot more—but I don’t know yours.”

      She touched a hand to the bib of her apron. “Oh. I forgot my name tag today,” she realized. “Eva Rose Armstrong.”

      He set down his mug and proffered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eva Rose Armstrong.”

      She felt a tingle through her veins as her palm slid against his. His hand was wide and strong, with calluses that attested to a familiarity with manual labor. It was a man’s hand, and every womanly part of her responded to the contact.

      “Eva,” she said. “My friends call me Eva.”

      “Are we going to be friends, Eva?” he asked, releasing her hand.

      “I think so,” she said, not daring to admit that she already hoped friends was only the beginning of what they would be to one another.

      “I could probably use a friend,” he admitted, dredging another fry through ketchup. “I don’t think I have any left in this town.”

      “You haven’t stayed in touch with anyone here?”

      He shook his head and shoved the fry into his mouth.

      “I have to admit that piques my curiosity,” she told him.

      “You know what they say about curiosity.”

      She ignored the warning. “Twelve years is a long time to stay away from your family.”

      “I was working.”

      The abrupt response and clipped tone cautioned her to back off, but she pressed on anyway. “You didn’t get any time off?”

      “Ranching is a full-time job.”

      She nodded an acknowledgment of the fact. Though her parents both worked in education, no one who lived in Rust Creek Falls was oblivious to the arduous demands of working the land. “No time to make a phone call?”

      “How do you know I didn’t?” he challenged.

      “Did you?”

      He pushed his now-empty plate aside. “No.”

      “Well, you’re here now,” she said. “That’s a start.”

      “Maybe,” he allowed, lifting his mug again, only to discover it was empty.

      “More coffee?” Eva offered, wanting to give him an excuse to linger at the counter awhile longer.

      Although the lunch crowd would soon fill up the tables, she didn’t want to watch Luke Stockton walk out the door because she didn’t know when—or even if—she would see him again. And maybe it was unreasonable and irrational, but she couldn’t help feeling that the man sitting in front of her was going to change her life—but only if she could get him to stick around long enough to do so.

      “No, thanks,” he said. “Just the check.”

      “How about dessert?” she offered as an alternative. “I made the pies fresh this morning, and the coconut cream is a favorite of many customers.”

      “Actually, I’m more of an apple pie kind of guy.”

      “We have apple, too.”

      He rubbed a hand over his flat belly and shook his head. “That sandwich was more than enough to fill the hole in my stomach.”

      She reluctantly wrote up his check and slid it across the counter.

      His fingers brushed hers as he reached for the slip of paper, sending little sparks dancing up her arm and making her wonder how she would respond if he ever really touched her.

      Unfortunately, he seemed completely unaffected by the brief contact.

      “Thanks,” he said. “For the meal and the company.”

      “My pleasure,” she told him.

      He retrieved his wallet from the inside pocket of his sheepskin-lined leather jacket, then selected some bills and tucked them under the check before he slid off the stool and rose to his feet.

      Her heart sighed as her gaze skimmed over him again. She guessed that he was at least four inches taller than her own five-foot-eight-inch frame, with broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist and long legs encased in well-worn denim.

      She wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that whatever had caused him to stay away for so long was water under the bridge, that his siblings were all going to welcome him back—because Rust Creek Falls was where he belonged. And she wanted to tell him that she was glad he was home—because she’d been waiting for him her whole life.

      But mindful of the brevity of their acquaintance, she wisely kept those thoughts to herself.

      Instead, she reached for his check again and impulsively scribbled her cell number on the back of it. “In case you ever need pie...or doughnuts...or...anything.”

      * * *

      Luke looked at the hastily scrawled digits, then at Eva.

      Pie...or doughnuts...or...anything.

      Anything?

      Was she hitting on him?

      As if she could somehow read the thoughts that circled in his mind, her cheeks flushed, the pink color adding a natural blush to her creamy skin.

      Eva Rose Armstrong really was a beautiful woman and maybe, under different circumstances, he might consider what she was offering. Hell, there was no might about it. If he’d come to town for any reason other than to reconnect with the family he hadn’t seen in a dozen years, he would already have asked when her shift ended and made plans to meet her later.

      But he was in town to reconnect with his family and he had no time—and even less inclination—for anything else. He’d proven adept enough at messing up his own life; he wasn’t going to mess with a pretty young thing who wasn’t smart enough to be wary of strangers.

      But she’d been kind to him, so he carefully folded the check in half, then tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket with his wallet. “See ya.”

      “I hope so,” she replied, her lips curving into another sweet smile before he turned away and headed to the exit.

      Because that sweet smile seemed to promise all kinds of things that he wasn’t sure she meant—and that he couldn’t accept even if she did.

      Still, as he turned his truck toward Bella and Hudson’s house, it was Eva’s pretty eyes and warm smile that lingered in his mind.

      * * *

      Luke’s first impression of Bella and Hudson’s home was that it looked like a million dollars. Of course, his sister’s husband was a multimillionaire so it was entirely possible the house they’d purchased from Clive Bickler was worth that much—or more. It was certainly a lot bigger and grander than the home the seven Stockton siblings had shared with their parents, and the newlyweds lived there alone.

      He unlocked the door with the spare key, then punched in the code that Bella had given him to disarm the alarm system. A man with Hudson Jones’s wealth would want to protect what was his, and Luke appreciated that the protection extended to his sister.

      Curious about the house and whatever insights it might give to the couple who lived there, Luke decided to wander around. The home was constructed with high-end materials and included all the latest conveniences, but it wasn’t ostentatious. As he made his way from room to room, he couldn’t deny that it had a warm and homey feel, and he was pleased to know that his sister had been lucky enough to fall in love with a man who could provide her with