Where Azaleas Bloom Read Online Free Page A

did Lynn notice Mitch sitting by himself in a booth
just inside the door. He gave her what looked like a nervous smile, then
gestured to the table. “Join me?” he asked with apparent sincerity.
    “Are you sure? You look as if you’ve finished. Don’t you need
to be over at Raylene’s soon?”
    “The crew knows what to do if they get there before I do,” he
assured her. “Coffee?”
    “Yes,” she said eagerly even as Grace arrived with a cup and
filled it to the brim, then refilled Mitch’s, a smirk on her face.
    Lynn watched her walk away. “Was she smirking?”
    Mitch sighed. “She was. Trust me, you don’t want to know why.
How about something to eat? My treat.”
    “No, thanks,” she said, though she couldn’t help gazing
longingly at a plate of French toast as Grace carried it by.
    “When was the last time you had Grace’s French toast?” Mitch
asked with a knowing grin.
    “A while,” she admitted. “But seriously, I’m not hungry.”
    “Nobody looks at food the way you just did unless it’s a real
temptation,” Mitch said, then called out to Grace. “An order of French toast,
Grace, and put it on my tab.”
    “Done,” she called back.
    Lynn regarded him with dismay. “You really didn’t have to do
that.”
    “I wanted to. Having someone besides Grace to talk to while I
finish my second cup of coffee is a real treat.”
    “I heard that,” Grace said as she passed by. She gave Lynn a
wink. “The man has the hots for me, and don’t think I don’t know it. So does
Neville, but my husband claims he’s past caring what I do as long as I quit
bothering him.”
    Lynn laughed, noting the pained expression on Mitch’s face.
“You know she wouldn’t tease you like that if she didn’t adore you.”
    “I know.” He leaned across the table and confided, “The woman
scares the daylights out of me. If she has her way, she’ll marry me off before
the summer’s over. You probably want to run for your life.”
    Once again, Lynn couldn’t control a chuckle. “I think you’re
tougher than that.”
    He gave her a look then that she couldn’t quite interpret.
    “I used to think so, too,” he said, his voice suddenly
sober.
    Before she could try to figure out what he’d meant by that,
Grace put a plate of thick, golden French toast in front of her, along with a
pitcher of warm maple syrup, butter and a shaker of cinnamon and sugar.
    “I wasn’t sure which way you liked it,” Grace said. “Me, I like
the syrup, but a lot of folks prefer the cinnamon.”
    “I like it drowning in butter and syrup,” Lynn admitted. She
spread butter over the slices, doused them in syrup, then tried the first
mouthful. “Oh, my God,” she murmured, drawing a smile from Mitch. “What?”
    “I remember that look,” he said. “You used to get the same
expression on your face at Rosalina’s when you’d take your first bite of
pizza.”
    “As if I’d died and gone to heaven?” she said. “No doubt about
it. When it comes to certain foods, it’s as if they speak to some part of my
soul.”
    “So, pizza and French toast do that?” he asked, clearly amused.
“What else?”
    “Chocolate decadence cake,” she said readily. “Almost better
than sex.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt herself blushing
furiously. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
    He laughed. “I don’t see why not, if it’s true. I’ll have to
remember your very high opinion of those things. Now tell me what you’re doing
in here so early.”
    She tapped the newspaper she’d set on the table. “Looking for
another job.”
    Mitch frowned. “I thought you were working for Raylene.”
    “Only part-time. I need more hours.”
    “But what about the kids?” he asked, then waved off the
question. “Sorry, none of my business. I guess I just assumed Ed would be paying
support.”
    “He is,” she said quickly.
    Mitch held her gaze. “But? I know I heard a but in your voice just