Page 19 of Digging Up Love
Quentin:
Thanks! I owe you one, and of course I’ll pay you back for the postage.
A grin tugged up the corner of his mouth, and he paused in picking up the change to key out another text.
Quentin:
In dollars.
Absently, he put his wallet back into his pocket. Why did he add an emoji? Weird, right? It felt weird. He fetched his cup off the counter and buzzed it full of Sprite, trying to relax. But still, the emoji taunted him. His phone pinged again, and sweat broke out under his arms. He forced himself to put a lid on the cup and shove in a straw before he read the text.
Alisha:
No worries.
No exclamation points, no answering emoji.
He put the phone on silent.
“Order three fifty-eight?” Two employees hovered by the registers with matching smiles. Another woman materialized next to them andleaned her hip against the counter. “Hey there. Want a McFlurry? On the house.”
He frowned, mind still on the texts, and her smile wavered. “We, uh ...” She looked at the woman next to her, who gave a quick shake of her head. The first woman narrowed her eyes at her coworker, then upped the wattage on her smile. “We made it on accident. For a drive-through customer.”
The guy cooking fries muttered something under his breath.
Never one to turn down free food, Quentin accepted the cup with a murmur of thanks. The women’s eyes bored into him while he pumped out three ketchups. But when he looked up, the cashier stood alone behind the register. She tucked her chin and offered a waist-high wave.
Huh. He slid onto a sticky white bench.
Winky face?Smooth. You just met her today, Quentin. Smooth as crunchy peanut butter, more like, and every bit as gagworthy. But he made himself take a bite of the burger, and the savory taste of pepper and pickles reminded him how starving he was.
Somehow the knot in his belly left room for the entire burger, a large order of fries, and the free McFlurry. Not even a misguided attempt at flirting could ruin a Big Mac. And the tangle of nerves slackened when he reminded himself—pretty woman notwithstanding—that a dinosaur in Illinois could change the trajectory of his career.
Wouldn’t hurt to check his phone again, though ...
Alisha:
Goodnight, Indy.
He crinkled the yellow wrapper in his fist and dunked it into the paper bag.
The sappy smile still hadn’t left his face when he merged onto the interstate. Maybe he could try going with the flow for once. Yes, she lived in rural Illinois, across an ocean of back roads and cornfields—abig, glaring obstacle, especially for someone in the business of spotting tiny details.
But look at Tre—he’d been enjoying wedded bliss for three years after meeting Radhika on a sunset booze cruise on Lake Michigan. Maybe Alisha’s proximity to the dig was serendipity, not a cosmic joke. After all, fate had certainly played a hand in the improbable dinosaur discovery today. He’d have to be careful not to let his focus stray, but why not indulge in a little harmless flirtation, see what developed?
Besides, ignoring Alisha’s liquid brown eyes and luscious curves all summer?
Impossible.
CHAPTER 8
ALISHA
Fog hung thick in the air, muting the clink of metal as Alisha and Quentin maneuvered an aluminum ladder into the pit. The close embrace of vapor made it feel like they were the only two people in the world, and for a breathless second, she wished it were true. No obligations, no uncertainty, no tangled past.
Her grip slipped in the condensation, and she caught Quentin’s eye over her shoulder. “You always seem to bring atmospheric weather when you come. Snow last time. Now this.”
“Are you comparing me to Thor?” He lowered the ladder, hand over hand. “Not that I’m going to turn my nose up at Avenger status, but I’m definitely partial to T’Challa.”
