Читать книгу Cooking Up Romance онлайн | страница 11

“Lacy Winters.”

Dang it! Memories were strange things, popping up after lying dormant for years, and right now his recall worked at hyperspeed. “John Winters’s girl?”

She nodded, a hint of surprise in her stare.

He knew it. How many people walked the earth with that color hair? Penny! “This is pretty good,” he said, before he had a chance to remember he wasn’t going to go there—reminisce—or give his consent for her to park on his construction site.

There went that extra bright smile again. It was hard to take his eyes off her, especially while mouthwatering flavors hit his tongue. He looked around for a place to sit and couldn’t find one, so he left the plate on the food truck counter and, using both hands to hold the wrap, took several more bites.

“Can I get you another napkin?”

Sauce dribbled over his chin and onto his hands. “Thanks.”

“Would you like a drink?” she said, after handing off the wad of napkins.

“Water’s fine.” Wouldn’t want anything to compete with the delicious ingredients he was ingesting like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. “What’s this?”

She’d placed, next to his wrap, a much smaller plate holding a pastry with a light brown crust.

“That’s half of one of my apple hand pies. I heated it for you.”

Why wait until he was too full to want or be able to enjoy dessert? He grabbed it and took a bite. Warm melt-in-your-mouth piecrust hit his taste buds, the kind he only remembered from his mother’s kitchen, until now. Cinnamon-seasoned, obviously fresh apples sweetened to perfection broke through as he chewed. “What’s your background?” He couldn’t help talking with his mouth full.

“I’ve been a cook at the Local Grown Restaurant here in town for the past three years. Before that, I was a short-order cook at Becky Sue’s.”

“That breakfast and lunch diner?”

She nodded, then continued. “My dad got me started in the food industry. This is actually his truck.”

He knew it!

“I got it updated and overhauled after he died last year.”

The man would probably roll over in his grave if he knew it was pink. “I’m sorry to hear that. You know, I remember your father. He had red hair like you, right?” The Winters food truck had shown up at a lot of construction sites he’d worked over the years, but not with her. Except for that first summer.