“Thank you, Mr. Preston. This looks delicious.”
“I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully Michael will bring you by the orchard so you can try some of our homemade apple pie and cider. We’ll be serving them up tomorrow at the gala. But they’re always best fresh.”
“Michael, will you?”
He didn’t have time to answer before Mr. Preston jumped in. “If he wants the pie and the jug of cider we always give him to take home, he’d sho’ nuff better.”
Michael nodded with no hesitation. “I’ll bring her by aroundlunch. Maybe Mrs. Preston would take pity on us and add a jar of her homemade caramel to her care package.”
The older man picked up a second paper cone and swirled it in the steel bowl. He covered it with a puff of blue cotton candy, handed it to Michael, and said, “I think we can definitely work that out.”
Michael paid for their treats, and they said their goodbyes to the friendly cotton candy peddler. As they walked, Vanessa tore off a piece of the confection and shoved it in her mouth. Cotton candy was one of those things you never thought of eating on any given day. Yet when you were surrounded by a crowd of people, loud music, flashing lights, and amusement rides, it was impossible not to indulge.
“Is it always like this in this town?” Even though she managed to garble the few words as she chewed, he understood what she said.
“Like what?”
“People being so invested in your well-being?”
“Is that how you saw that?” Sarcasm laced his reply, amusing him. “I call it nosy busybodies.”
She bumped into his arm purposely. “Come on. That old man was so sweet. It’s obvious he cares a great deal about you. I admit,” she continued as she stopped to pop another puff of cotton candy in her mouth, “I thought it would annoy me to have people be so familiar. But that was actually kind of nice, to see the way he teased you like a favorite uncle.”
“Nice for you, maybe,” he grumbled, falling back into that grouchy persona he tried so hard to convince her was his true self. But with each passing moment, she doubted that more and more.
“I’m serious. I’d give anything to have someone worry about whether I was eating enough and to fix me pie and cider just because they were thinking of me.”
“It is nice in a way,” he answered. “When my parents died, things were a mess. I was so busy trying to get everything settled whiletaking care of my sister, I would forget to eat. So Mrs. Preston started dropping off care packages to me and Cindy until I could get my bearings.”
She thought about how hard it was to lose her father four years ago and how having that kind of support would’ve meant the world to her.
“It’s easy to forget about yourself when you’re dealing with the business of grief.”
“You sound like you know a little something about it?”
She huffed. “Yeah. Firsthand experience. My mom died when I was little. I barely have memories of her. My dad died four years ago. I had to handle everything by myself.” She pulled her eyes away from his and dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. “Karl was away on business. He made it home for the funeral. Unsurprisingly, no sooner than the door to Dad’s mausoleum closed, he was gone on another business trip.”
Michael reached for her hand, running his fingers carefully over her knuckles. “He left you alone to bury your father?”
She dared to lift her gaze and saw dark brown eyes filled with compassion, empathy, edged with anger. “I was used to it. Karl traveled quite a bit.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it, his gaze burning into her, seeing beyond her calm facade.
“If you were mine, there’s no way I’d ever let you go through something like that without being by your side.”
The deep timbre of his voice heated the brisk air the early fall weather brought.
“It… ah…” She stumbled over her words, getting caught up in the intensity of his dark gaze. “It wasn’t easy. It taught me to treasure those who support me, though. That’s why I love Janae and Cree so much. They’re the siblings I never had and the support system I always wanted.”
Her heart sped up as he rubbed his thumb in circles over the back of her hand where his lips had just touched her.
“Apparently,” she continued, “it’s something that’s particular to residents of this town. From what I can tell, good people live in Monroe Hills.”
He stared at her silently, his eyes searching for something she wasn’t necessarily ready to give. After last night, the idea of being physically intimate with Michael was an easy decision. Yes, please, and thank you. Except the way his gaze bore through her, asking for entrance into her core, made her uneasy.
Uneasy was a misnomer. She was downright unhinged by the way he seemed able to sneak past her defenses. She’d kept her cold exterior for so long, letting no one other than her girls know how heartbreakingly lonely her marriage was.
Yet as he looked at her with that deep dark gaze, all she wanted to do was swing the doors open and give him the access he was silently asking for.
