Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

with great views, but give her finger-licking barbecue and any type of fries, and she was in heaven.

They stood in the shortest line and glanced up at the menu listed on several large boards that hung on the wall behind the registers. Normally, during the week, she ordered a garden salad and a shrimp po’boy or some other sandwich. Today would be anything barbecued.

“What are you getting?” she asked Trace, who was still perusing the menu.

“I’m thinking about the big-boy brisket sandwich with coleslaw and fries. After following you around the mall for the last few hours, I’ve worked up an appetite.”

She laughed and swatted his arm. “Whatever. You know good and well that you were the one pulling me from store to store.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “What can I say? I wanted you to have the perfect swimsuit.”

She actually found two—a yellow two-piece and a baby blue one-piece with a plunging neckline and cutouts on the sides. They were sexier than she usually went for, but she loved how she looked in them...and imagined Trace staring at her while she tried them on.

“What are you getting?” he asked.

Before Connie could answer, his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his jeans front pocket and glanced at the screen.

“I need to take this. Can you order for me?”

“Of course, and it’ll be my treat,” she said, but Trace slipped money into her hands and gave her a quick kiss before he strolled away.

He was proving to be one of those men who liked to take care of a woman. They’d have to talk about that later. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that he had to; she didn’t mind covering the tab sometimes.

She watched him maneuver around people who were waiting for their order, and she wasn’t the only one checking him out. There was a table, near the exit, that was occupied by four women, and all were watching Trace with interest.

Connie wanted to puff out her chest and say Yeah, he’s mine. You can look, but don’t even think about touching.

One of them, the one with a short bob and too much blue eye shadow, glanced at her. The woman smiled, lifted her coffee mug and nodded in acknowledgment. A grin tugged up the corners of Connie’s lips. Yep, she wasn’t the only one who appreciated the view that Trace provided. Masculine beauty at its best.

The line moved, and before long, Connie placed their order. She couldn’t wait to eat. Knowing that the food would be good added to the anticipation.

She stepped to the pick-up counter. While she waited, she pulled out her phone to check her social-media accounts, realizing she hadn’t done that since leaving work on Friday. That was unlike her.

“Connie?” the owner’s son, Nathan, called. “Connie!” he repeated.

“Right here.” She lifted her hand and maneuvered around a woman with two small children.

“Oh, hey, Ms. Shaw,” Nathan said. “I didn’t know your name was Connie.”

“It is, and that’s what you can call me instead of Ms. Shaw. How are you? How’s your mother?”

“I’m well, and Mom is doing great. She’s in back, probably bossing someone around.” He gave a little chuckle and handed Connie a large bag of food.

“Thanks, and tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

Connie stepped to the side and grabbed napkins that she stuffed into the bag, plus a few condiment packets. After double-checking that she had everything, she turned to leave, then groaned when her purse knocked over the container of straws, sending every one of them tumbling to the tiled floor.

“Oh, that’s just great.”

She set the bag of food on the cabinet, then bent down to pick up the wrapped straws.

“Whoops. You missed a few,” a deep voice to her right said as he handed her more straws.

“Thank you.” Connie stuffed them all into the container and repositioned her purse on her shoulder before standing. “I appreciate your...” The rest of her words stalled in her throat when her gaze collided with the owner of the deep, throaty voice. Familiar gray eyes stared back at her.

Oh. My. God.

Those are the eyes.

The eyes that had looked so familiar days ago.

“Always nice to help a pretty lady,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”

Connie’s pulse climbed higher, and her hands trembled when she set the straw container on the counter. “Uh, n-n-no,” she stammered, trying to pull herself together before making a complete fool of herself. She wasn’t sure what to say or do.

“You look familiar,” Gray Eyes said. “Maybe I’ve seen you here before.”

“Maybe,” Connie said, her tone noncommittal. She discreetly glanced at the door that Trace had walked out of, hoping he would hurry back. What the heck was taking him so long? He’d know what to do.

When she turned back to Mr. Gray Eyes, he was gone.

“Oh, no.”

Connie frantically looked around as anxiousness clawed through her body. He wasn’t in line. He wasn’t sitting at any of the tables or standing in the hallway that led to the restrooms. She started down that hall, thinking that maybe he had slipped into the men’s room, but another man exited the single-person restroom, confirming that Mr. Gray Eyes hadn’t gone that way.

How had he disappeared so fast?

With a tight grip on the bag of food, Connie hurried to the exit that led to the front of the building.

“Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me,” she said as she skirted around people, hoping to get to the guy before he got too far. After pushing open the front door, she glanced left and right, looking past people strolling down the sidewalk. “Where’d he go?” She jogged to the corner and looked both ways.

Gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Connie?”

She whirled around when she heard Trace’s voice. She wasn’t sure what he saw on her face, but his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he said in a rush and took the bag from her and wrapped his other arm around her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Trace, I saw