He lifted the lid and applied a smile, one that Wynn had seen several times. She’d never thought of it as roguish before, but the effect on Dorothy was unmistakable.
“I don’t mind if I do,” Dorothy replied as she lifted out a slice and winked at Judd.
Wynn’s appetite drifted into no-man’s-land, where dried leaves blew like tumbleweeds. She turned from the two of them as they laughed about the stringy cheese flopping down Dorothy’s pert chin and made her way to the back of the truck to unload her wares.
Focusing on her booth and the life she was building for herself and her kids was what she needed. She didn’t have a claim on Judd, nor a say in who he spent his time with. So why did it feel like her world was suddenly unstable?
Chapter 6
Judd
Later that night, Judd stepped out of the truck and arched his back, groaning. He glanced through the cab and saw Wynn watching him from the passenger seat, her mouth set in a saucy smirk.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know I sounded like my dad, okay? You don’t have to rub it in.”
“More like your grandpa.” She put her arms up and groaned. “Hey, sonny, can you get the remote off the coffee table there? Grandpa doesn’t bend so good anymore,” she said in a bad imitation of a creaky old man voice.
He shut his door, cutting off her cackle. Good, at least she was laughing now. She’d been so stressed earlier, he’d been sure she’d break into tears. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was seeing Wynn cry.
He headed for the family entrance to his parents’ B&B to collect the kids. It was past eleven, and Wynn would need help carrying their sleeping forms into the house. Getting them to bed could be a challenge, but once they were asleep, the fire alarms could go off and they wouldn’t flutter an eyelid.
“Judd, wait.” Wynn pushed out of the cab and hurried around to the front of the truck, her feet knocking the gravel around. “I—” She stopped short and tucked her hair behind her ear—a sure sign she was working herself up to something.
Her cheeks flushed, and Judd’s breath caught at the sight. “Yes?” he croaked out. The sound of his voice faltering caught his attention, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“I, um …” She lifted her shoulders and twisted her fingers in front of her. “What do you think of Dorothy?”
Judd relaxed. “She did a great job. I really like the booth.” He moved to touch her forearm. “You don’t need to worry. Your furniture is going to sell like Presley’s chocolate Santas the day before Christmas.”
“No.” She looked up as if searching for the words in the stars. “I mean, what did you think ofher? Do you like her?”
Judd scrunched up one side of his face. “Likeher?”
“Yeah. Would you … want to go out with her or something?”
“No,” he blurted before thinking.
Wynn’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut again. “But you spent all night flirting with her.”
“I did not.” A sense that he was being unjustly accused rode over the top of him, making his tone tight. “Why would you say that?”
She dug her hand into her hip. “Because it’s true. You two laughed. You made jokes. You even offered to carry the side table for her so she wouldn’t break a nail.”
He threw his thumb at his chest. “I was being a gentleman.”
She studied him.
He kept his face passive, though his head screamed at him to set her straight. “Friendsjoke around.”
She dug her fingers into her hair. “Ugh! Why are you so upset?”
“Because you’re accusing me of going after another woman.” Her eyes grew large, reflecting the half-moon hanging in the sky, and he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, you’re making this into something it’s not.”
She dropped her hands to her sides, and a gust of wind left her lungs. “Would you go out with her?”
“W-what?” Judd sputtered.
She composed herself, standing taller and looking him in the eye. “She asked me to set you two up. What should I tell her?”
