Her eyes had glazed over, and her smile wasn’t nearly as bright as it had been last night. “Do you like little diners, or are you the designer coffeehouse type?” he asked. She shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter.” Yep, something had changed. Her emotional distance was so obvious, it was slamming. “Tell you what. We can go to the Dunk ‘n Dine this morning, and I’ll treat you to the best two-ninety-nine breakfast you’ve ever tasted.” He held the door for her as she slid into his car, then he leaned forward, hoping for some sort of reaction. “That’s fine,” she said as she buckled her seat belt. No smile, nothing. Judd ran around to the other side of the car, wishing he could start over. He must have said something, but what? That brightness was in her eyes when she opened her door to him, but she quickly put up her guard. Once in his car, Judd started to crack a joke about the cat getting her tongue, but he decided to use a more direct approach instead.
