The Judge. Jan Hudson
sexy as the dickens.
He must have been reading her mind, because just then the tip of his tongue appeared and moistened his lower lip. Entranced, she watched his tongue withdraw, observed his lips press together, then relax, noted the glisten left on his mouth by the action.
Darned if her toes didn’t curl.
She glanced up, and his eyes locked with hers. They were dark, very dark and filled with something indefinable…but totally captivating. His eyes alone would have made him enormously attractive. Bedroom eyes they called them. The kind that made such glorious promises that women wanted to throw themselves into his arms and follow him anywhere. She wasn’t immune. Her impulses ran along the same line.
“What would you like?” he asked.
A slow smile spread over her face. Wonder what he would do if she told him the truth? “What would you like?”
“I…uh—” he took a deep breath and pressed his lips together again “—think I’ll have a BLT,” he said to the waitress who had appeared. He closed his menu and began twirling his wedding ring.
She shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” If she didn’t know better, Carrie would have thought that she made the judge nervous. Why? She was tempted to ask but wise enough not to.
Her female antennae told her that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him. She’d have to be an ignoramus to have missed it. Maybe he was still mourning his wife, she reasoned. But two years was a heck of a long time.
“What was it like growing up in a large family?” Carrie asked, turning the conversation to safe territory.
“Chaotic at times, and we had our share of squabbles. But mostly it was fun. We’re all very close.”
They ate their sandwiches and made small talk. She carefully avoided any discussion of her work.
“Want dessert?” Frank asked. “Their cobbler isn’t bad.”
Carrie shook her head. “I have a yen for ice cream, and I’ve heard that the Double Dip has the best in town.”
Frank grinned. “I can vouch for that.”
“Join me?”
“Sure.”
He reached for the check, but she insisted on paying. “It’s my turn. You can get the ice cream.”
“That’s a deal. I get a family discount.”
“Family?”
“My mom owns it. After she retired from teaching a few years ago, she got bored and decided to find something to do with her time. The Double Dip was up for sale, so she bought it.”
They walked across the street to the old-fashioned ice-cream parlor, and as they approached, a serious wave of nostalgia rolled over Carrie. It reminded her of the little shop where Burt, one of her long line of stepfathers, used to take her when she was a kid. Was Burt number three or number four? She couldn’t remember. But she had really liked him; he was a kind man and told silly jokes that made her laugh. Obviously her mother hadn’t liked him nearly as well as Carrie had, for they soon packed and left, and no amount of weeping and begging had convinced her mother to stay.
A bell over the door announced their arrival. The stools at the counter were red, just like the ones from her childhood. She took a seat at the chrome-trimmed counter and inhaled the wonderful cold-sweet fragrance, a blend of smells so poignant that she could almost feel her pigtails on her shoulders.
“Gosh, this brings back memories,” she said. “I love this place already. I used to go to a shop just like this one when I was a little girl.”
A grandmotherly type with short gray hair bustled in from the back, drying her hands on a towel. She smiled. “Hello, son.” She turned to Carrie, and Frank made the introductions.
“Carrie is in town to do some work at the courthouse, and she heard that you had the best ice cream in town,” Frank said.
“I hope I can make good on that claim,” Nonie Outlaw said. “What would you like?”
“Do you have peppermint?”
The woman smiled. “We surely do. It’s my husband’s favorite.”
“Mine, too. I’ll have a double dip.”
“Cone or dish?”
“Oh, a cone. And do you have chocolate sprinkles?”
“Surely do.”
“Put some of those on top.”
When the cone was made, Carrie took the two fat scoops of peppermint ice cream, the top dark with sprinkles. She closed her eyes and savored the aroma, then licked a dollop from the side—and sighed. The taste was everything she remembered.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven. I can’t believe that I’ve waited over twenty years to have another one of these. Mrs. Outlaw, this is delicious.” Her tongue made another swipe, then another in a distinct pattern that was suddenly familiar.
The woman laughed. “I’m glad you like it. But most everybody just calls me Miss Nonie from my teaching days. Welcome to Naconiche. Are you going to be staying long? We have several events coming up soon that you might enjoy.”
“I’ll be around several weeks.”
“She does genealogical research,” Frank said.
“That’s wonderful. Have you met Millie at the library yet?”
“Not yet, but everybody tells me she’s the town authority. I plan to go by tomorrow.” She turned to Frank. “Aren’t you having any ice cream?”
He glanced at his watch. “I’ll have to pass. I’m due back in court. Mom, put this one on my tab.”
Other customers came in and Miss Nonie left to take their orders. Carrie waved goodbye to her as she and Frank left.
“This ice cream really is fabulous. I’m going to do some window-shopping while I finish it. Thanks for it and for sharing your table.”
“Thanks for buying my lunch,” he said.
“No problem.”
He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else.
She waited, but whatever was on his mind went unsaid. He merely nodded and started across the street. A red pickup truck almost hit him. The truck driver honked and swerved, and Frank jumped back. He didn’t look at her. When the way was clear, he trotted to the other side.
She wanted to call out to him, but he didn’t look back.
Her ice cream started dribbling over her fingers, and she hurriedly began to lick away the mess. When she glanced up again, Frank was hurrying up the steps of the courthouse. She sighed. He even looked good from the rear. Maybe she wouldn’t mind seeing a little more of the handsome Frank James Outlaw while she was in Naconiche.
FRANK FELT like such a dope. He’d nearly been creamed by that pickup. He’d been off-kilter since he’d run into Carrie in the hall outside his office. A couple of times yesterday afternoon, he’d found his mind wandering from the case he was hearing to thoughts of her. And last night he’d done more tossing and turning than sleeping, bedeviled by memories of Susan and feeling guilty as hell about being attracted to another woman.
And he was attracted to her. It bothered him. Bothered him so much that, trying to avoid bumping into Carrie, he’d left his office early and gone to the Grill instead of the tearoom. But it seemed that the powers that be had other ideas. When he’d looked up and seen her at the café, he’d felt a rush of elation rather than disappointment. His best efforts at trying to ignore her didn’t last long. As if they had a mind of their own, his legs had gotten up and trotted in her direction.
He’d almost invited her to go to that musical in Travis Lake that J.J. had suggested.