“Why don’t you grab those spoons over there. I’ve got some dessert for us.”
“Dessert?” Her brows lifted as she grabbed the wooden spoons off the table and headed over to join him.
“I’ve got cinnamon rolls too,” he said, “but I figure we should save them.”
Ivy lowered herself onto the rug, enjoying the mood in the air. They’d built a level of camaraderie over dinner, and even flirted a bit with the sparks of chemistry she’d noticed earlier that day. She wouldn’t admit it any time soon, but Ivy had loved hearing Easton say that he didn’t want to go on the show.
She didn’twanthim going on the show either. Or at least, the dreamer inside her didn’t want that. The part that believed—despite his disinterest inLooking For Love—that he might want to find love outside of that setting. Maybe he’d even want to find love with her beside the crackling fire and the blustering storm outside.
It was ideas like those that brought her back to more realistic thoughts. Ones that said a relationship between the two of them would probably never work out. Which, Ivy reminded herself, was fine by her; she wasn’t ready to start dating again.
It was amazing, the odd sense of peace she felt each time she clung onto that no-dating rule of hers. All fear, insecurities, and doubts took flight. Sadly, the determination also wiped out things like hope, potential, and delicious anticipation. Something she’d been enjoying just seconds ago.
Was it really worth the trade off?
“You ready to give these things a try?” Easton asked, pulling her out of her musings. He twisted the lid off the jar with a pop and gave it a whiff. “Whoa,” he cried with the shake of his head. “A few of these should keep us warm through the night.”
Ivy tilted her head, unsure of what he meant. It looked like a regular old jar of peaches like her mom canned every year. “What kind of peachesarethey?” she ventured, handing over one of the spoons.
Easton, who’d been eyeing the jar, lifted his gaze to meet hers. His brow arched, and a grin pulled at one side of his lips. “Moonshine.”
“Ah,” she said with the tip of her head. “Like where they add homemade liquor or something?”
“Yep.” He dug his spoon into the jar and scooped up one of the peaches. They’d been cut in half, then cut in half again, leaving them in quarters. “Go ahead,” he urged. “We’ll cheers with our spoons.”
A laugh snuck up her throat. “Okay.” She eyed the jar warily, wondering how good a peach soaked in moonshine could actually be. She stuck her spoon in, scored a peach for herself, and lifted it from the jar’s wide rim.
A look of triumph spread over Easton’s face as he lifted his spoon toward hers. “Cheers,” he bellowed.
“Cheers,” she said through another laugh. Ivy brought it to her mouth quickly, determined to eat it without gagging. She chewed a few times, swallowed it down, and paused to assess the flavors left on her tongue. There was a strong taste that didn’t belong to a peach—that was the moonshine. But she tasted the tangy sweetness of the peach as well.
“That’s not bad,” she decided, hovering her spoon over the rim once more. She scooped up another thick slice and looked at him. “You’re eating more too, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Definitely. But I have to warn you, my neighbor Jerry—he’s the one who makes them—goesheavyon the liquor.”
Ivy rarely ever drank, but how much damage could bottled fruit do? “Did you know that we’ve got between two to fourthousandtaste buds?”
“No,” Easton said.
“We do. And they’re not all just on the tongue either. Some are at the back of your throat, your esophagus, your nose…”
He grinned. “That’s awesome.”
“I’m a fun fact geek,” she warned, wondering if she should resist the urge to share what came to her mind.
“So am I. Did you know the tongue is made up of like eight muscles, all interwoven together?” he asked, proving his point. “The structure’s similar to an elephant’s trunk or even an octopus’s tentacle.”
He wasn’t kidding. “I’ve never known a guy who could spout fun facts like me.” In an odd way, it made Ivy feel…safe to be herself.
“Chantelle says I store up useless but fascinating knowledge,” Easton said. “It drives her crazy.”
“It drivesmyfamily crazy too,” Ivy assured.
They kept their eyes locked on one another, their connection deepening in the quiet space.
Until Easton spoke up. “Did you know that eyes contain the fastest—”
“Muscles in the human body?” she finished for him. “They don’t sayblink of an eyefor nothing.”
