Lila Mae pushed away the thoughts of her family, telling herself they existed one thousand miles away and didn’t get to take up residence in her mind. Not for free, at least.
She wandered past the caramel apple counter and over to the refrigerated section where the apples were kept. She loved a good Honeycrisp and a Gala, but nothing beat a Pink Lady.
Being a single woman who only had to feed herself, Lila Mae picked out three Pink Ladies, and then one each of the Gala and Honeycrisp. Just for good measure, she threw in a Macintosh, though six apples was probably more than she needed before she’d be back next Monday.
She found the apple butter at the very end of the aisle, and she picked up the one-pound tub and placed it in her basket with her apples.
She turned to examine the display case of bottles behind her with everything from vinegars to ciders to sauces, when an oh-so-familiar voice met her ears.
She glanced up just in time to see Trap walking toward her, a smile on his face for a reason Lila Mae could not fathom. “Howdy,” he said, just as her brain processed that he’d said,Nope, I found her. There she is.
She looked past him to where a farm store worker wearing a bright red apron had already moved along with her tasks. And Trap had come over to her.
Lila Mae blinked and looked at Trap again, as he now stood directly in front of her.
“You really do come every Monday,” he said.
Lila Mae had no idea how to respond, but a frown tugged at her eyebrows. “This is the only Monday you’ve seen me here. How would you know I comeeveryMonday?”
His smile faltered. “Uh, you said you did.”
She had not called her cousin to get any tips on flirting, and Lila Mae reached out and picked up a bottle of apple cider vinegar. “Yes, but you would have to see me next Monday, and maybe even the next one, before you could say Ireallycome every Monday.” She looked up at him and smiled. It took him a moment for his lips to tip up again, and Lila Mae liked that look on his face far more than the confusion and consternation she normally got.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you until Thursday.”
Trap shifted his feet and then moved out of the way as Lila Mae pressed down the length of the display case, which he was inconveniently blocking.
“I just have this thing about being a liar.”
She looked at him. “A liar?”
“Well, I mean, you told Chelle we had a date, and I just figured if I showed up here and saw you and talked to you, then it wouldn’t be entirely a lie.”
“Do the cowboys in this town consider walking around a farm store with a woman a date?”
Trap’s face turned a lovely shade of red, and he reached up and pushed his hat further forward on his forehead, obscuring his eyes. “I don’t reckon so, ma’am,” he mumbled.
“Hmm,” Lila Mae said. “So you must be thinking of taking me to breakfast.” She smiled a smile he didn’t see, and she turned the corner at the end of the display case and went back down the other way, as the refrigerated cases of cider sat on this side.
Colt prepared it in many varieties, including some with the pulp to make a cloudy cider, all the way to the clearest, palest orange apple cider Lila Mae had ever seen.
The cats liked both, but Lila Mae picked up a gallon of the cloudy, pulpy cider from the refrigerated case. “If you carry my basket, would that count?” She handed her basket to him, and Trap took it without a word.
“I didn’t get a yes on the breakfast,” Lila Mae mused, really enjoying teasing him. “Which makes sense, as it’s eight-thirty, and with the heat warnings and all, I bet you’ve been up since five.”
“About that time, yeah,” Trap said, his voice low and filled with gravel.
“And what does a cowboy like you eat for breakfast?”
“Scrambled eggs,” Trap said. “Sourdough toast. Sausage.”
“Yes, that does sound like you,” Lila Mae said.
Trap lifted his head then and met her eyes. “Does it?”
Lila Mae’s heartbeat thrashed against all of her ribs, sending vibrations from the front of her body to the back. “I suppose it sounds like any cowboy,” she said. “Though I would probably saybaconand eggs.”
Trap shook his head slowly. “I like sausage way more than bacon, ma’am.”
