LITMIR.BIZ

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sister and brother, who are heading back to London. When I saw you, I thought I’d come over and say hello.”

      Amber glanced at Gram, who’d lifted her hand and was waving her fingers at Jensen.

      He’d no more than walked over to their table and greeted them when Elmer pointed toward the stairs, a gleam in his eyes. “Oh, Helen, look. Here come the Baumgartners. Let’s go schmooze it up with them and find out what song they’re planning for the dance contest. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, I always say.”

      With that, Elmer pulled back Gram’s chair and helped her to feet that had never danced even a two-step, at least as far as Amber knew.

      But before he could sweep Helen away, Amber placed her hand on her grandmother’s arm and asked, “Since when are you and Estelle Baumgartner enemies?”

      “Elmer is just teasing, honey. He says they’re our stiffest competition. Besides, I think he’s just trying to give you and your young man some time alone.”

      “Try the twofer happy hour special, son. They make a mean margarita here, and you can’t beat the price.” Elmer winked at Jensen as he ushered Helen away, his gnarled hand a little too low on Gram’s back.

      Jensen was most certainly not her young man. And while she appreciated Elmer giving them some privacy, she didn’t like him putting fanciful notions in her grandmother’s head. It was bad enough the tabloids were spreading that rumor all over the county—and the world, for that matter.

      “I hear they’re having quite the bang-up price on them until seven o’clock.” Jensen, still standing, nodded toward her margarita glass. “Can I get you another one of those frozen drinks?”

      “Oh, goodness no. Thank you. I didn’t even want this one.”

      He raised his eyebrow at her almost empty cup, as if questioning why she would’ve drunk the thing down in three gulps if she hadn’t wanted it in the first place. And with the way he was looking down at her, she was reminded of the first time they met. Although this time, it was her neck hurting, not her pride.

      “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit down?” she asked.

      “Maybe for a moment.” He took the seat next to hers.

      “So how did the airport run go?”

      “Without a snag. My brother and sister are on their way back across the pond as we speak.”

      “So you’re staying on here a little longer?” She wanted him to think she was just making casual small talk and that his decision to stay in town wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference to her. It wouldn’t, of course. But thoughts of that second kiss he’d given her after dropping her off near the VFW the other night made her insides turn to gelatin and her mouth go dry.

      How did one explain the chemistry in a reaction like that?

      Her hand shook as she reached for her empty glass. Well, duh. Now what? The only thing in front of her was the shot of tequila Elmer had ordered—the drink she hadn’t planned on drinking.

      Trying to play it cool, she downed that, then winced.

      “Here.” Jensen handed her his cold longneck bottle of beer.

      She took a swig, then winced even more. “What is this?” She turned the label around and saw the harp logo on the front.

      “It’s Guinness. My cousin Wendy stocks up on it for us, since we’re not used to the American ales. They’re too watered-down.”

      Too watered-down? Was he crazy? Give her a cold light American beer any day over this thick drudge. But she bit her tongue as she handed his bottle back to him.

      He signaled a waitress and asked her to bring another margarita and some water.

      “Have my mother and Mr. Mendoza ordered yet?”

      “No, sir. My lord. Um, I mean...” The young waitress stammered, most likely at a complete loss.

      “Please, just call me Jensen. Will you let them know that I’ll join them in a few moments?”

      “Of course, Sir Jensen.” The blushing woman hurried back to the bar.

      As Amber watched her go, she wondered when the town would finally get used to this British invasion. The Beatles probably had it easier than the poor Fortune Chesterfields did.

      “Speaking of your mom,” Amber said, “Lady Josephine and Orlando seem to be hitting it off well.”

      “That’s bloody unlikely.” Jensen chuckled at the possibility. “Mum is just being social. She’s quite the mingler. Besides, Mr. Mendoza and she are true opposites.” He took a sip of his Guinness. “If she were to ever...well, become romantically involved with anyone, it would be with someone like my father. He was her soul mate—and one in a million.” He paused and looked off in the distance.

      In fact, he looked beyond Mr. Mendoza and Lady Josephine, who appeared so deep in conversation that they probably didn’t even notice that Jensen was no longer sitting with them—much like Gram and Elmer did whenever Amber was around. Talk about a couple of third wheels. Amber had to laugh. Now that’s something she and Jensen did have in common—the fact that they found themselves as odd men out.

      “Anyway,” the handsome blue blood continued, “why would my mum ever remarry when the only man she’d ever find would be someone who would fall short in her eyes?”

      Amber looked over at the silver-haired British woman and the suave Orlando Mendoza. The two didn’t seem to be all that mismatched to her.

      But what did she know about romance or soul mates?

      Then again, maybe Jensen was actually talking about his feelings for Amber—warning her that even though they shared a passionate kiss, he would never marry someone who clearly fell short in his eyes.

      That had to be it. Okay, that was a no-brainer.

      The waitress returned with the margarita that Amber didn’t want, but she took a sip of it anyway to still her emotions and to cool whatever flush might have risen to the surface. But this time, she could blame it on the alcohol.

      Fortunately, Gram and Elmer returned to save Amber from any further speculation of how unsuitable she and Jensen were.

      As Elmer helped Gram into her seat, he said, “I’d have to say that me and Helen have the dance contest in the bag. They’re going with Tony Bennett. Again. Talk about Snoozeville. I’ll slip Clem Hodgkins a fiver to make sure we go after them. The Baumgartners will put the crowd to sleep, and then me and Helen will come along and bam! We’ll wake ’em right back up.”

      Gram’s laughter tinkled out, and Amber had to wonder if she was merely being polite, or if she actually enjoyed the old man’s antics.

      “So what music did you two select?” Jensen asked.

      “Cotton-Eye Joe,” Elmer said smugly.

      Amber slapped her hand to her forehead.

      “What?” Elmer asked. “Do you think it’s too slow paced? Should we choose something livelier?”

      Gram looked at her dancing partner, a furrow in her sweet brow, and Amber dumped the tequila shot into her margarita and took another drink. Heaven help her.

      “Would you excuse me?” Jensen asked. “I need to tell my mother and Orlando that I’ve temporarily jumped ship.”

      When he walked away, Elmer leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Did you do any fancy trick shooting for your audition?” Then he looked at Gram. “Maybe we should incorporate some pistols or something in our dance routine to really give it some pizzazz.”

      “No!” Amber nearly shot out of her seat. When the other diners turned to look at their table, she lowered her voice. “No, you two may not do any trick shooting. It’s bad enough I have to worry about Gram breaking

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