Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) by Beth Bolden

them too, mixing the butter with rich honey and letting this heavenly mixture melt and seep into every air pocket and bubble. When he’d finally taken the last bite, he eyed the plate and wondered if anyone would find it weird if he licked it clean.
    He was just reaching for it when Maggie slid into the booth opposite him. Glancing around, he realized the Café had mostly cleared out, and only a few stragglers like himself remained, basking in the feeling of being full of a wonderful breakfast.
    With a smile and not a frown, she lost that pinched, anxious look in her face and he was reminded again how pretty she really was. Maybe not an attention-grabbing knockout like her older sister, but beautiful in her own quiet way—sunny blond hair cut in a long choppy bob and eyes so light a blue he was reminded of the water off the coast of Cozumel. In his mind, he dressed her up, painted her lips red, gave her a smoky eye and it wasn’t a stretch to believe she might turn heads the same way her sister did.
    But that clearly wasn’t where Maggie’s desire and skill truly lay. Having just tasted her cooking for the first time, it was difficult to believe she could have picked any vocation better suited to her talents.
    “How was your breakfast?” she asked, with another of those hesitant smiles, as if she was no longer sure what to make of him. And that made sense, he supposed, because he didn’t know what to make of himself anymore.
    He also liked that she was honestly curious about his opinion; she wasn’t going to just rest on her obviously-considerable laurels. If he’d told her the sausages could have used more fennel seed, or the eggs more salt, or the pancakes were far too heavy, she would have just nodded seriously, taking mental notes behind those crazy-light eyes of hers that never seemed to miss a beat.
    “It was really great. I don’t know when I’ve had better.”
    Her answering smiled dumped his whole world upside-down. She wasn’t just quietly pretty; she was stunning. It took the pleased happiness of that smile to transform her face and light up the features he’d believed somewhat ordinary only a moment ago. Suddenly, he couldn’t turn back the clock and find her as passably attractive as he had only a few minutes earlier—even if he might be a hell of a lot more comfortable with it.
    “We weren’t on our best game today,” she admitted wryly, and Noah had to wrap his mind around the possibility that her food got better, “but I think we righted the ship. Though I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
    Janice swung by his table and with only a quick glance, refilled his coffee mug and set another in front of Maggie, filling it too. She lifted her mug to her lips and sipped with a grateful smile in her waitress’ direction.
    “You take your coffee black, too,” he stated in surprise.
    “You only have to cover up the taste of bad coffee,” Maggie said with a tiny shudder. It was unspoken that she wouldn’t ever serve anything substandard in her Café, and after that breakfast, Noah believed her.
    “It was no big deal,” he said. “Like I said, I enjoy tinkering with stuff.”
    She gave him another speculative glance from under surprisingly thick lashes. Noah wasn’t an expert or anything, but he would have bet she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. But then, why would she? Who knew how early she had to get up to open this place and even with the exhaust fan going, the size and strength of that grill would heat up the kitchen in a heartbeat.
    He tried remembering any occasion when Tabitha had ever voluntarily gone out in public without deploying a full face of makeup, and couldn’t remember one. Then it hit him, like another baseball to the head. He couldn’t use his experience and knowledge of Tabitha to deal with Maggie. They might be related by blood, but fundamentally, they were totally different creatures.
    “I’m sorry I haven’t emailed Tabitha yet. I’m going to. But