“Ha. Ha.” She shook her head as she placed the bowl back into the cupboard. “Idohave one of those fancy machines. It’s just broken right now.”
“Ah.” He glanced down to see that she did, in fact, have a dishwasher. Burke had thought that being in Mrs. Walsh’s cabin was a taste of normal life—that is, life outside of the billionaire lifestyle he’d come to know—but being here in Justine’s home made him feel so all the more.
It was a far cry from the sleek finish of all things shiny, new, and fragile. The cozy home had unique comforts he hadn’t imagined would come from surroundings so eclectic. The painted cupboards, refinished furniture, and dated light fixtures somehow created a place that felt like…home.
Odd, seeing as it was nothing like any home he’d known.
“These pies are gorgeous,” Justine said, hurrying over to look at their masterpiece where the two pies—one for the contest, one for the auction—rested side by side on a baker’s rack, another charming piece she’d refinished. The mere sight made him anxious to get the record player in the cabin he was renting. He’d already paid Frank to deliver it before he left for Big Bear Lake Sunday morning.
“Thanks for teaching me your secrets,” Justine said playfully.
“You’re welcome.” Justine had called the pies gorgeous.Shewas gorgeous. The pies…they were something else. Burke wasn’t sure how to describe it. Before today, he’d only ever made the pies with his mother which made the event, after her passing, somewhat sacred.
But baking them with Justine, passing on Mom’s secret of layering the crust—folding, flattening, and layering again—the whole occasion had felt blessed in its own way. As if Mom was reaching down, pouring her approval over the moment. Encouraging, as she’d always done, every step of the way.
And if he were honest, the fact that Justine had twice now helped him feel closer to his mom than he had since she passed—it added another layer to he and Justine’s already complex relationship.
Add to that Lorraine’s invitation to bring Justine to the cabin. Which was official now since, while retrieving the blanket from the car, Burke received a text from the sweet woman.
Lorraine: Claudia says that she’d love for you to bring your date to the cabin, assuming she’ll use discretion where the Benton name is concerned. I assured her she would. So…a deal’s a deal. I asked. It’s your turn to do the same.
Burke didn’t want to break a promise, but he also wouldn’t want to scare Justine away. Sure, he could play it off like she’d be doing him a favor in return, helping balance things out with all the married couples in his family.
But the truth was, he wanted to spend time with her more than anything. Wanted it, in fact, enough to stay behind if she didn’t want to go to the cabin. That is, if she were interested in spending more time with him there in Piney Falls. He’d paid Mrs. Walsh through the end of the month with the option to extend through December too.
But if Burke was going to ask Justine to come, he should probably find out if she felt the same. But how? He couldn’t just come out and ask, could he? It felt premature for that.
But then another idea came to him. Perhaps he could make a move when theyweren’tin the public eye. His mind drifted back to their moment on the blanket. Had he not caught sight of Brittany and her boyfriend nearby, Burke would have thought Justine was acting off sheer desire. He only wished that was the case.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Justine said from across the kitchen.
Burke cleared his throat, his blurred vision snapping back into focus on the dishtowel in his grip. He folded it in half, then in half again before resting it on the counter. He leaned against the bar and folded his arms, fixing his gaze on hers.What’s happening between us?he wanted to ask.I’m not sure what’s real right now.
“Burke?” she urged, her hazel eyes turning worried.
Fire flashed hot in his chest as he considered pulling her close. And suddenly, he was extending a hand to her. Forget the questions. Let actions speak for themselves.
Justine looked at his hand, then placed her delicate fingers in his cupped palm.
The heat skittered down to a spot low in his belly. Slowly then, eyes set on her, he pulled her toward him.
Gauging.
Probing.
Wanting their connection to be something outside of convincing the onlookers of her town. He wanted a private exchange, one that said she might just feel the same. One that said she might just accept his offer to meet his family.
She came as he beckoned, one step, and then two.
Burke’s pulse spiked hot and fast as his breath hitched. He felt hints of a grin tugging at his lips. Triumph, affirmation, progress.
But suddenly she stopped.
He glanced down as she moved her hand to his chest, keeping the few short inches between them.
“We better…” she stammered with the shake of her head. “It’s late, Burke. Let’s just—”
Disappointment tore through him like a heated blade.
