Was that a smirk on Callie’s face?
If so, Vanessa refused to acknowledge it.
When the slender, pretty blonde stepped forward from the pack of ten contestants up on the stage, Jameson tore his gaze from the hot brunette across the way. After all, that pretty blonde was his baby sister. Her name was Charity. Along with his brothers and his parents and a lot of other people in the park that day, Jameson clapped and cheered wildly as Earl introduced her.
Charity looked beautiful, as always, in a pretty summer dress, her shining hair loose on her shoulders. Jameson had shown up with the rest of the family to support her in her current bid for the Miss Bronco crown. They all knew she had it nailed this year.
Nineteen now, Charity had been working toward the Miss Bronco title every year since she turned sixteen. Each of those years she’d come closer to winning. She’d taken, respectively, fourth place, third place and runner-up. This year would bring her the crown.
She smiled her brilliant smile and gave a short speech about how she loved her hometown, had graduated with honors from Bronco High and had finished her first year at Valley College. The John family and her other supporters clapped louder than ever when Earl thanked her and she stepped back for the next contestant to take her turn.
As for Jameson, his gaze strayed once more to the unforgettable brunette at the table on the opposite side of the stage. The sight of her had decided him. He might have come today to support his sister, but now he had a second goal—finding an opportunity to reconnect with Vanessa.
Word traveled fast in Bronco. He’d known for a month that she’d moved to town for the summer. Within a week, he’d found out that she was rooming with Callie Sheldrick. He’d ached to head straight for Callie’s place. He wanted to get up close and personal, to intimately welcome Vanessa back to town. He hungered to find out if the sparks between them burned as bright and hot as they had last New Year’s Eve.
But he’d stopped himself from going after her. He’d reminded himself that he’d given his word not to seek her out, that he needed to stick with the promise he’d made New Year’s Eve.
However, seeing her again in the flesh changed everything. To hell with her rules. He wanted to get closer to her.
And one way or another, he would.
For the next hour, he tried his damnedest to sit tight with his family, to keep his mind on the pageant. He got through the interviews, snapping to attention when his sister stepped up. Charity spoke of her dreams and goals with warmth and feeling. She went first in the talent portion and stole the show. Charity played the piano like a virtuoso and she sang like Carrie Underwood—kind of looked like her, too.
Yeah, he might be a tad prejudiced in his little sister’s favor, but objectively, everyone could see that she deserved the crown. People clapped louder and with greater enthusiasm for her than the other nine contestants. Even with the new rules in place, Jameson knew she would win.
As he cheered his sister on, he kept one eye on the woman across the way. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment. Eventually, Vanessa would get up to say hi to a friend at another table, maybe check out the rows of marketplace booths, buy herself a cold drink or some patriotic trinket. When she did, he would make his move and find a way to get a few words with her.
An hour and a half crawled by after that exhilarating moment when he’d looked over and spotted her sitting with her brother and the others. Now and then, he would slide her a glance, kind of keeping an eye on her. Once or twice, he caught her looking his way.
But she didn’t hold his gaze. And that one measly, cool little smile she’d given him that first time their eyes locked together, well, that was all the smiles he got.
One way or another, he intended to get more.
Finally, she made her move, rising from the table, hovering there a minute to say something to Callie. And then she took off, headed for the two rows of marketplace booths set up facing each other farther into the park, on her side of the stage.
In order not to be too obvious, he waited until she’d made it forty yards or so from her table, before whispering to his brother Maddox, “Be right back,” and setting out after her.
Up on the stage, wearing a determined expression and dressed in a sequined bodysuit, Hermione Sanchez tap-danced to “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy” as Jameson circled around the last row of folding chairs. By the time he made it beyond the far group of picnic tables, Vanessa had disappeared from his line of sight. He walked faster until he entered the marketplace area, after which he slowed a little to check out each booth as he passed it.
Where the hell had she wandered off to?
Not that it mattered. If it took him all afternoon, he would find her. He’d made up his mind to get a word with her, and he wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted.
Pie.
Van loved it. And she needed it. Jameson had started to get under her skin, the way he kept glancing over at her—the way she couldn’t seem to make herself stop glancing back. He was a blue-eyed devil and her hopelessly hungry libido required a serious distraction from the temptation he posed.
If you asked Van, no finer distraction existed in the material world than pie.
She followed her nose to the booth where the Bronco Ladies Auxiliary sold just about every sort of baked treat known to man. One of the Abernathy ladies, Angela, gave her a tiny sample slice of cherry pie to help her choose between it and the apple raspberry.
Van got right to work on that sample, groaning aloud at the sweet, tangy taste and the perfectly flaky crust. “So good...”
“One of those Dalton boys baked it,” said Angela with a big grin. “He brought us six of them. We cut one up for samples, and four have sold already. We’ve only got one left.”
“I want it.”
“Twelve dollars,” Angela smiled at her tauntingly.
