“So what does he have to do to campaign?” Billie asks the rest of the table.
“Well, let’s see. He has to attend the town meetings. First one is tomorrow,” Penny reminds me.
“And there’s Derby Day next week,” Gail adds. “They do a cool old-fashioned car show before it, too. You should come, Quinn.”
My nephew lights up, and my sister nods. “Sounds fun!”
“And don’t forget the Spring Fling. That’s May fifteenth,” Tally adds. “You guys should come next weekend to the farmers market, though. With Quinn by your side, it’ll make you seem more friendly.”
“I am friendly,” I grouse, and Tally arches a brow.
Billie laughs, and the sound sends a jolt of warmth through my chest. “We wouldn’t want you to miss out on a shot at being Daffodil King, Jess. We’ll definitely be there.”
“Do you get to wear a crown?” Quinn asks.
I’m about to say no when Tally nods dramatically. “Yes! I have a picture of my dad in his crown!”
She pulls out her phone, and after a few seconds of searching, passes it around the table. When it finally makes it to me, I find myself staring at a beaming Peter with his arms wrapped around all of his girls.
“He loved the crown you made.” Gail laughs as I notice the daffodil crown on top of his head. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Tally grins at me, and I know with every fiber of my being that I’ll do anything she asks, even it if involves wearing a damn flower crown.
—
“Is everyone gone?” I search the kitchen for any spare family member or friend who could hop out and interrupt our night.
I relax when I’m greeted by no one but Tally. “Just me.”
“What are you doing?” I’m moving toward her before she answers. She stands in front of the counter, still in that damn red dress that makes my mouth water, a slew of ingredients in front of her. I swear this girl is never not baking something. I smile at the memory of what Eli told me earlier.
“Making your favorite cupcakes,” she says before turning back to the counter. I settle right behind her, and she reaches for both of my hands, placing them on either side of her.
Stepping up closer so I can feel every breath she takes, I glance over her shoulder and watch as she measures her ingredients.
“This is all it takes?” I stare at the few things she has beside a bowl.
“Well, this is just for the frosting. Honey—three tablespoons plus more for drizzling; three cups of confectioners’ sugar, two tablespoons of heavy cream, one teaspoon vanilla—” I dip my head into her hair and inhale. She laughs and pushes me back with her butt. “Pay attention, Walker. I’m only teaching you once, and there will be tests.”
“Oh, you’re teaching me, huh?” I grin even though she can’t see it. “Will I get a prize if I get the answers right?”
She tips her head back and stares up at me. “Yes.”
That one word is filled with so much promise I force my attention back to what she’s doing. “And we use sea salt because you like the salted honey buttercream,” she continues.
“Oh, I do?”
She leans back again and licks her lips. My hand goes to her cheek, and I tug her to an angle where I can taste her. One quick peck is all I get.
“Yup. Pretty sure you said you would like to lick it from the bowl.”
“I could think of other places to lick it from,” I mumble, settling my head over her shoulder again and watching as she takes me through each step.
As soon as the ingredients are mixed together, she dips a finger in the bowl of frosting and holds it up to my lips.
My brows arches. “You have a kink you haven’t been telling me about?”
Her resounding laugh is loud. “No, I don’t want to watchyou eat. Though I guess that is a sort of kink for me. I love watching you enjoy something I’ve made.”
