His voice had that rough edge that always made her feel things she wasn’t in the mood to feel. He could flip a switch in her belly with just a greeting and, suddenly, she wouldn’t be sure if she wanted to kiss him or throw a saltshaker at him. Maybe both.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Same as yesterday and the day before that,” she said, still not turning around. “Packing up Lolly’s life in boxes while the rest of the town parties without me. You know, living thedream.” She slapped aKitchen Miscellaneouslabel on a box with more force than necessary.
Jack slid a to-go box across the counter. “Figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”
Her stomach growled, betraying her at the exact wrong moment. She glanced at the box but didn’t reach for it. She knew what was inside. It was no doubt something nostalgic, something that tasted like Lolly had made it herself. Jack’s version of a farewell tour. Collard greens, biscuits, casseroles—if it could be served at a Southern wake, he’d cooked it for her this week.
“Thanks,” she muttered, finally opening the lid. A grilled pimento cheese sandwich stared back at her, all gooey and golden brown. Darn it. He knew good food was her kryptonite.
She took a bite, the cheese melting on her tongue, and for one brief second, everything didn’t suck. “You trying to fatten me up so I’m too slow to run away from my problems?” she asked, mouth full, giving him the side-eye.
Jack gave her that heart-stopping grin that always threw her off. “I thought if I feed you enough, you might forget about the boxes.”
She swallowed, and the lump in her throat felt bigger than the sandwich. “The boxes aren’t going anywhere, Jack.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to deal with them alone,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. Then he snapped a picture of the sandwich. “For posterity,” he said.
She didn’t respond. Posterity didn’t matter when her future was swirling down the drain.
“Jack, you don’t have to keep doing this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Bringing me dinner, pretending like everything’s going to be okay. It’s not.”
The room felt charged with everything unsaid. Finally, he straightened, his hands slipping into his pockets. “You’re right. I don’t have to.” He paused. “But I want to.”
She spun around to face him, her arms crossed. “Why? Why do you keep coming around when you know it’s all falling apart?”
His jaw tightened and, for a split second, she saw the vulnerability he so rarely let slip. “Maybe because I don’t want to see you fall apart with it,” he said quietly.
He took a step closer, and suddenly the space was a little smaller than she remembered. And then, before she could talk herself out of it, she took a step closer too.
“You’re frustratingly good at making me feel things I don’t want to feel, Jack.”
He smiled that slow, infuriating smile that always made her pulse race. “Guess that’s part of my charm.”
For a second, everything else faded. And without thinking, she leaned in.
His lips met hers, soft but urgent, like he’d been holding back for far too long. She tasted the faint hint of pimento cheese on his lips, and despite the mess of her life, something warm bloomed in her chest.
They pulled apart, but his forehead stayed pressed against hers.
She smiled, her lips brushing his as she whispered, “Are you trying to distract me?”
His thumb grazed her cheek, and he chuckled softly. “Is it working?”
Before she could answer, the door swung open, and Aggie danced in. She was dressed as a giant shrimp, and the sheer number of sequins on her costume made her look like she’d taken a wrong turn at a seafood boil and ended up in Studio 54. Cora blinked, struggling to process the foam claws she was waving.
“There you are, Jack. I’ve been looking everywhere,” Aggie huffed, her voice muffled by the shrimp headpiece. “I need you on the float. Now. The parade’s starting in tenminutes, and I’m not doing the wave alone in this ridiculous getup.”
Jack sighed, amused. He turned to Cora. “Duty calls.”
Aggie, oblivious to the moment she’d interrupted, kept going. “Cora, if you don’t see me riding through town in this, your life is incomplete. I look good dressed as a sparkly appetizer.” She swished her glittering tail and vanished out the door.
Jack turned back to Cora, his expression softening. “You should come. It might take your mind off things.”
She shook her head. “I think I’ll stay. I just need a little more time.”
He studied her. She thought he might try to push, but he clearly knew better. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, the touch lingering long enough to make her heart flutter.
