We didn’t talk much as we ate—not because we didn’t want to, but because we were both fucking starving. June dug into her catfish like it might vanish if she blinked, while I cut into my pork chop with single-minded focus.
I putbothpats of butter on my cornbread.
Because maybe I really was falling in love.
And when Mabel came back to check on us, she didn’t even pretend not to gloat.
“Y’all need anything else?” she asked, leaning on the edge of the booth like she was ready to start wedding planning.
I shook my head. “Just the check.”
“Already?” Her brows lifted. “Didn’t even get dessert.”
I glanced at June, who raised her eyebrows back at me like she was daring me to answer that one honestly.
“No dessert,” I said, voice low. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”
Mabel looked downright delighted.
“Oh, I bet you do,” she said, already scribbling something down. “And I’ll just go ahead and box y’all up a slice of peach cobbler. For later.”
She disappeared before either of us could stop her.
June smiled into her tea. “She’s going to tell everyone.”
“She was always gonna tell everyone,” I said. “Might as well give her a good story.”
June looked over at me—eyes warm, voice quiet. “You planning on giving her a story, Silas?”
I didn’t answer right away.
I just reached for my wallet.
Because yeah.
Yeah, I was.
CHAPTER 7
June
The sky was streakeddeep purple when we left Mabel’s, the last blush of sun just barely clinging to the pines. The air had cooled some, but my skin still buzzed from the heat of the diner…and the man beside me.
Silas didn’t say much as we walked out—just opened the door, a perfect gentleman, big hand brushing the small of my back. He opened the passenger side door of his car, too, and I climbed in with a smile.
I wasn’t drunk…hadn’t had a sip of alcohol. But Ifeltdrunk on his touch, on his words, on the way he looked at me.
And that only got more intense when he didn’t step away from the passenger’s side door…leaving it open to move closer, between my knees.
“Can I kiss you, Reverend Fontenot?” he asked, bracing one hand on the roof of the truck.
I took a shuddering breath, reaching for the collar of his shirt.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He didn’t waste another second.
Silas dipped his head and kissed me like it was the onlyprayer he knew how to say—low and full of longing, his lips catching mine, his teeth dragging on my lower lip. I gasped, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, and he pressed in closer, tongue thrusting into my mouth. His free hand curled around the back of my neck, taking all I had to offer.
