“Too delicious for words.”
Angela tucked in the lid. “That’s twelve dollars even.”
Van traded her the money for the box. “Thanks.”
“You are so welcome, dear.”
“Hey, aren’t you Vanessa Cruise, the one who teaches the summer camp kids out at Daphne Taylor’s animal sanctuary?” The good-looking fortyish woman Van had noticed talking to Angela a moment ago moved closer just as Angela stepped away to wait on another customer. The woman had another pink bakery box in her hands.
“I’m Vanessa, yes.”
“Lurline DuBois.” The woman shifted the bakery box to her left hand and offered her right. Van gave it a shake. “I’m just off my second divorce and ready for a fresh start, if you take my meaning.” Lurline slanted a smirk at Jameson. “How ’bout you, handsome? Got a name?”
Van introduced them. “Lurline, this is Jameson John.”
Jameson, looking wary now, accepted the woman’s hand and let go of it quickly. Lurline gave a loud laugh. “My, my. They do grow you boys up tall and strong here in Montana.”
Was she making a move on Jameson?
For a moment, it looked that way—but then she surprised Van and turned to her again. “I heard about your students, how they got the Miss Bronco rules changed.”
“Yes, they did.” Van spoke with pride.
“I love that. I mean, why are beauty queens always barely more than babies? A real woman ought to toss her hat in the ring, show ’em how it should be done. I’m thinking next summer, I might just enter the contest myself.” Lurline’s eyes twinkled as she tossed her crow-black hair. “That is, if I’m still single.”
“Go for it, Lurline.” Van patted her shoulder—and remembered that cowboy in the purple shirt. He just might have a coronary if Lurline entered next year. So be it. Van’s Young Adventurers hadn’t fought for change so that everything could stay the same.
“Catch you two later.” With a flirty smile and a jaunty wave, Lurline moved along, leaving the two of them staring after her.
“Lurline’s a pistol,” Jameson remarked wryly.
Van met his gaze. They both started laughing.
When the mirth faded to silence and they were left gazing too long into each other’s eyes, he took her arm. She allowed him to pull her out of the Ladies Auxiliary booth, and into a space between that booth and the next one.
Carefully, she eased her arm free of his hold. “I should go.”
“Wait.” He had such gorgeous eyes, so clear, so vivid. So impossibly blue. Those eyes held her captive to memories she shouldn’t allow herself—memories of his rough palm skating down her bare back, of his breath in her ear, his mouth doing incredible things to all her most secret places... “Just a phone number, Vanessa. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Her throat felt tight. She forced the words through it anyway. “It’s a bad idea.”
“No. It’s a good idea. Thebestidea. I missed you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Tell me to my face right now that since that night, you’ve never thought of me, never wondered what I might be doing, never considered looking me up. Just tell me you’d forgotten all about me. Just say it right to my face.”
“I never thought of you.” It came out flat, completely unconvincing.
He shook his head slowly. “Lying’s beneath you.”
She felt breathless and so sad, both at the same time. “We had an agreement.”
He said nothing for an endless count of five. “Why? That’s what I want to know. Why is it necessary that we can’t get some coffee or maybe get dinner somewhere quiet, you and me?”
“It’s a long story, one I don’t care to share.”
He glared at her. “I’m not giving up.” And then, without another word, he turned on his boot heel and walked away.
She almost ran after him, to argue with him, insist at least one more time that TNTNH was never going to happen again.
Somehow, she kept her feet rooted in place. Clutching her pie, she drew slow, even breaths as she counted to a hundred at a measured pace. Only after her pulse had settled down a little and her stomach felt at least marginally less fluttery did she head back to rejoin her family.
