I start to get up, but a blue label from a jar on the counter catches my attention. The blue is bright, and the way it touches the dark syrup makes me think of blue eyes and dark hair.

I sink back in the chair and recall the way my body buzzed when it was near Penn’s. How he leaned into my hands and looked at me with a warmth that was hard to ignore. That’s hard to forget.

It’s unfortunate that I’ve experienced enough hedonism in my life before now. It’s unlucky for me that I know what it’s like to cave to a cad with boatloads of charm. If I didn’t know those things, I could’ve explored what Penn has to offer.

It’s just too bad I learned my lesson before I saw him again.

He might’ve been the best bout of trouble I ever got myself into.

I get up from the table and head to the bathroom. There are few things a hot bath won’t fix. Hopefully, being unable to wipe Penn Etling from my mind is one of them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

AVERY

I pull my car into an empty spot next to the door. A sign reading MUCKER’S hangs next to a basket of flowers. Harper’s car is parked on the other end of the lot, which is lit up by the dining room lights streaming from the windows.

“This place looks cute,” I say as I shut off the engine.

I’ve driven by Mucker’s every evening that I’ve been in town. The parking lot is always full. As I kept going down the road, because I wasn’t about to walk into a place that was already bursting at the seams alone, I wondered if the food was good or if it’s packed because it’s the only place to go.

Tonight, I’m going to find out because my bath earlier this evening failed me.

I expected my best bubble bath and thriller novel would help redirect my thoughts away from Penn. But when I got out and dried off and realized I hadn’t read a word and was still thinking about his stupid smile, I decided I needed another tactic. One with people, food, and a new energy.

Bolstered by the kindness shown to me at the salon this week, and the loneliness at Harper’s with her gone, I grab my purse. Once my feet are on the pavement, a sweet nighttime air greets me. It’s filled with laughter and the twinkle of lights from a small outdoor patio that’s attached to the building.

The ambiance reminds me of college.

A bright-eyed woman about my age is exiting as I reach the front of the restaurant. She holds the door open.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” she says, her red curls springing around her shoulders. She waits until I step inside before releasing the door.

I don’t hear it shut. From the television blaring a baseball game on the wall to the patrons shoulder to shoulder in the tight dining area to the heavy scent of oregano, it’s sensory overload. As I look for a clear path through the crowd, I spy a woman at the end of the counter.

“You heading to the patio?” she calls out.

“I’m trying to,” I say.

She motions for me. “Come this way and then scoot along the wall.” She points to her left as I get closer. “There was a town council meeting tonight. It brings them in like flies.”

I nod, not bothering to reply because her attention is already redirected to the kitchen. After saying “excuse me” several times and sucking in my stomach to get behind a high chair holding an adorable little girl, I make it to the door.

My foot hits the brick pavers outside just before I look up . . . and stop.

The sweet scent in the air is now kissed by a cool, crisp cologne that I recognize immediately. It takes only a quick glance to my right to ensure I’m correct.

Penn Etling.

Naturally, he’s here.

He’s leaning against a table that’s outfitted to look like a tiki bar. A beer in his hand, his hair a sexy, rumpled mess, he’s the nightmare of my dreams. And while the idea of feasting my eyes on him while I feast on a burger doesn’t seem like a terrible plan in theory, when he looks my way and a smirk settles on his stupidly kissable lips, that idea is less appetizing.

Because damn it if I don’t want him, even when I know I shouldn’t.

He sets his beer on the bar. With a swagger that should be illegal, he moseys my way. “When I said I’d be seeing ya, I’ll admit I thought I was going to have to work harder to make that happen.”

“Just pointing out the fact that you didn’t have to put any work into making it happen.”

“Yeah. I know. It’s fate.”

“No,” I say with a laugh. “It’s called ‘Mucker’s is the only place open.’”

Tags: Adriana Locke Dogwood Lane Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net