“How many times?” Grace asked.
“How many times what?” I replied.
“Did he kiss you,” she said.
I fiddled with the strap of my sundress. “I don’t know. A few times, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Emme said to herself as she studied the ground. She crossed her arms over her torso. “Yeah, so, he’s in love with you.”
“He adores everything about you,” Jaime added.
“Believe me, he’s not,” I replied. “He puts up with me because his niece needs help. If it weren’t for that, he’d go out of his way to avoid me.”
“He’s in love with you,” Emme repeated.
“Noooo,” I said. “That’s not what’s happening here.”
“Because it’s too soon?” Jaime asked. “Because it feels like everything ended with the ex a minute ago and you’re still processing it? Or because you’re still burned from the ex and can’t imagine getting close enough to the fire to ever feel warmth again?”
“Because you have lost your damn minds,” I said. “Yes, I know the whole thing is crazy. Look around. Everything about my life is crazy right now. Noah is not—he doesn’t—there isn’t—no. Just no. And I am still burned, still processing. I can’t—even if I wanted to, I can’t. And I can’t let myself believe there’s anything more to the situation than him offering to help me deal with Lollie’s will and me offering to be his human shield. Please don’t try to convince me. Please. I don’t think I can handle it.”
Jaime and Emme were silent for a long moment. Then Grace asked, “Is no one going to mention the kid swearing like a pirate?”
“She’d take that as a compliment,” I said. “She thinks very highly of Blackbeard.”
“She’s a hoot,” Emme said. “She’d be a handful in the classroom but she’s fun as hell.”
Grace jerked her chin in my direction. “What are you going to do about the whole marriage thing?”
“I haven’t decided,” I admitted.
“You’re considering the proposal, then.” Emme said this carefully.
I shook my head. “Not really. No. It was just a silly thing. Like I said, he’s only in it for the land and I”—my laugh was small and pathetic—“I am in no condition to marry anyone for any reason. It would be a disaster.”
Grace, Jaime, and Emme shared a glance that loudly announced their doubts.
“Well,” Jaime said, “one thing is for certain. We’re going to that farmers market tomorrow.”
chapterten
Noah
Students will be able to identify and ignore the object of their deepest, darkest desires.
I spottedthem the minute they arrived at the park. There were two reasons for this.
First, Little Star was one of the biggest vendors at this market and that afforded us a prime location for our pop-up tent. From this position in the horseshoe-shaped assembly of vendors, I had an unobstructed view of foot traffic from the street. I couldn’t miss five young women who appeared equally lost and hungover.
And second, I hadn’t stopped watching for Shay since the market opened at eight this morning. I knew it was pointless, that watching for her wouldn’t make her materialize any sooner—or at all. But I couldn’t help myself.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since leaving Twin Tulip yesterday. She’d looked…happy. Perhaps the liquor was to blame—there’d been plenty of it in that drink—or it could’ve been her friends. Or a combination of the two.
But she’d been happy and it looked so fucking good on her. The strappy little sundress too, the one that left her shoulders bare and dipped low over her breasts. I couldn’t get it out of my head.
And I’d tried. I’d spent the whole damn night messing around with tweaks to my newest jam recipes while memories of that purple dress pushed to the front of my mind. I’d burned a batch of blueberry lemon lavender while thinking about the way the fabric settled into the valley between her breasts. I’d thought about trailing a finger from the base of her throat into that valley and then lower, until I could pull that dress up and slip a hand between her legs. The jam scorched right around the time Shay started begging me for more.
Of course, Gennie had bolted awake with the sound of the smoke detector and came downstairs, asking what the fuck was wrong and whether we needed to abandon ship.
