My mother giggles.
I sit there in stunned silence.
Josiah points at Mom and nods. “It was fun as hell.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe she talked you into that.”
“She didn’t have to. She just asked.” He leans back smugly. “That girl’s got spirit.”
Yes.
Yes, she does.
My mother studies me carefully. “And you’re sure there’s nothing going on between you two?”
I meet her gaze. “Positive.”
Even as I say it, the memory of Harleigh sleeping in my arms flashes through my mind.
Her hair spread across my chest.
The warmth of her skin under my hands.
Josiah watches my face.
Then he grins like he just confirmed something.
“Damn fool,” he mutters again.
I sigh. “Can we just eat the pie?”
“Sure.”
He pushes himself up from the recliner and heads for the kitchen.
A minute later, he returns with a pie and a knife.
Dark purple filling peeks through the lattice crust.
“Ain’t it pretty?” he announces proudly.
My mother clasps her hands together. “Oh my.”
He cuts three slices and sets them on our empty plates.
We take the first bite together.
And I swear it might be the best damn pie I’ve ever had.
Josiah points his fork at me again. “Marry that girl.”
I choke on the pie.
My mother bursts out laughing. “Daddy!”
“What? The girl makes a mean pie.”
“Not sure pie baking is the strongest argument for matrimony,” I say.
