Two Wrongs Make a Right by Ann Everett Page B

restaurant, she felt every eye trained on her. The almost thirty-five-year-old desperate woman with two cats at home, waiting for a dude she’d met online. Another time check—now twenty minutes late. She should order a piece of pie to go and get the heck out of there, but the door opened and he appeared. She waved to get his attention, and he hurried toward the table.
    “I’m so sorry I’m late.” He sucked in a quick breath. “My flight got delayed, and I was afraid I wouldn’t make it. Since we don’t exchange numbers on the site, I couldn’t call. I left a message on Marriage Minded, but wasn’t sure you’d check there.” He pulled out the chair across from her. “Did you know, on average, every hour 61,000 people are airborne over the United States? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Aaron.” He stuck out his hand.
    Warm and slightly calloused, she could tell he did little manual labor. “That’s okay. I understand. Where were you coming from?”
    “New York.”
    It would have to be the Big Apple, where a few short weeks ago she’d convinced herself she’d be honeymooning. “Do you get to sightsee in the places you go?”
    “Sometimes, but it’s usually all work and no time for that.” He picked up the menu and held it. “I’m glad you chose Rosa’s. Their sopapillas are my favorite. Did you know a million flowers have to be pollinated to produce a pound of honey?”
    Quinn glanced at the squeeze bottle sitting in the center of the table and smiled. His bio listed trivia as an interest, and he’d gotten right to it. If nothing else clicked between them, and he kept this up, at least she’d learn something. “No. I didn’t.”
    The waitress appeared at their table. “Are y’all ready to order or want a drink first?”
    Aaron looked at Quinn.
    “A frozen margarita,” she said.
    “I’ll have the same.”
    The server retreated and Aaron opened his menu, then peered over the top. “What are you having?”
    “Cheese enchiladas.” She was surprised he didn’t mention how many margaritas were consumed in a month. Well, he couldn’t know everything.
    “It seems you and I have writing in common,” Quinn said. “What do you write?”
    “I’ve been working on a novel for a while. It’s a mystery, romance, fantasy, horror, and humor story. Oh, and I recently added an erotic vampire scene, because I understand those two genres are popular right now.”
    Quinn blinked. “That sounds—different. How will you market it?”
    “I doubt I’ll ever get it published. In the US alone, over 300,000 new titles hit the market each year.”
    “You can always indie publish.”
    “I suppose. And you? You’re a professional. Are you writing a book?”
    “No. I stick with articles.”
    Outside, rain fell harder. A streak of lightning flashed, and a loud clap of thunder jarred the restaurant. “I got inside just in time,” Aaron said. “Did you know there are 6,000 lightning strikes a minute on earth?”
    Quinn offered him her best smile. “Tell me something about yourself that wasn’t in the site bio.”
    He leaned in close. “I don’t want to brag, but five years ago, I won a one day total of thirty-six thousand dollars on Jeopardy .”
    Now she understood the trivia. At least he put it to good use. “That’s exciting.”
    “Yeah, it was my fifteen minutes of fame.”
    Quinn took a moment to appreciate him. His bio picture had not done him justice. Dark hair. Killer smile. Kissable lips. What was her problem? Shouldn’t she be reacting? The guy was nice and good-looking, but not one spark of attraction stirred. Maybe her emotions had been dead so long, it was too late for a full resurrection. No, couldn’t be. Cowboy Jake’s kiss affected her, so why wasn’t she getting a tingle from Skywriter?
    Maybe nothing was happening between them, but she bet if she asked how many people in Texas were making a PeePee-VeeVee connection right now, he’d have the number.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    By the end of