“Everyone loves my grandmother.” He explained. “Momma D is like everyone’s grandma. In fact, the only person who doesn’t get along with her is the grandmother of my cousin’s girlfriend.”
“I bet that makes for some interesting family dinners.”
He laughed again. “Not at all. Between us, I think Momma D and Nana E get along better than they let on, as long as they aren’t talking about cooking or baking. If that conversation comes up, then it’s on.”
“Is one of them a bad cook?” I found myself completely interested in his family drama.
“Not in the least. Nana E, or Ms. Ethel, owns the town bakery. That’s part of the problem.” He slowed his horse down, and mine followed suit. “Years ago, when the church decided to start an annual baking competition, they both entered desserts. My grandmother won, and Ms. Ethel made a comment that suggested that she cheated.”
“Did she?” I leaned closer.
“Absolutely not. She’d rather have burned her cake than cheat, and Ms. Ethel knows that. My grandmother took the rumor in her stride, but she might have mentioned that the only reason Ms. Ethel lost was because her cake was dry. They have been fighting ever since.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “You realize that sounds like the plot of some cheesy television movie. Grandmothers who don’t get along, grandkids fall in love, will the family survive?” I laughed.
“It does, but my family and the Livingstons are tight enough that we’d never let anything like a baking competition come between us.” He laughed with me. “If anything, it’s more entertaining to see them go back and forth. It’s all southern charm and Christian hospitality jabs. Both of them are hilarious.”
“Sounds like it.”
“You’ll see.” He threw out there all of a sudden. “When you come for a visit I’m sure Momma D will make something for you, and then I’ll take you by Nana E’s Bakery and let you try herdesserts. Just whatever you do, don’t tell my grandmother you like Ms. Ethel’s cakes more. You do that, and that could kill any future we have.”
There was no reason that his cockiness should be attractive, but for some reason it was. Maybe it was because of the small hint of boyish charm that came out every once in a while, or the way he talked about his family. It spoke to the brokenhearted girl I had been. The one who always wished for more than what I had.
“This looks like a good spot.” Junior pulled my attention back from the road it was about to travel.
“For what?” He had pulled his horse to a stop and was dismounting.
“I know you said that I needed to stop asking you to dinner, but I also figured we might get hungry.” He came over to help me get down. “I brought us something for the evening.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” I told him when my feet were on the ground. “I could have made something later.”
“What kind of southern gentleman would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
I bristled. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you can’t, but don’t you want a partner? Someone to help along the way?”
“No.”
“No?”
I blew out a breath. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand. Just hearing the stories of his family told me he couldn’t possibly understand.
“I’m happy by myself.” I told him. “It’s easier being alone.”
“Life isn’t supposed to be easy.” His voice was light enough to be a caress. “And the things that are sometimes the hardest andthe most worth having. It’s possible that you could be happier with someone else.”
“I doubt it.” I looked away. “People don’t bring happiness. They just cause pain.”
His fingers touched my chin and turned my face back so I was looking into his eyes.
“Not everyone.” He stepped closer. “If it’s the right person, they help you through the pain and the hardships of life, and they bring joy when you least expect it.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“No, you don’t.”
His eyes glanced toward my mouth, and while I knew I should move away, I couldn’t. I was transfixed. My mind told me this was a mistake, but some small, forgotten part of my heart begged me to let go. To accept that he was different from who I thought he might be. Different from the men I had known before. Different from my father. That maybe Junior wouldn’t hurt me in the end.
