Page 100
Laughter bubbled up once more. “Exceptional.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Aren’t we not supposed to date coworkers?” I whispered.
He tilted his head back and forth. “The rule isn’t enforced. There are at least three couples working at the distillery right now.”
I chewed on my lip, considering. I wanted to say yes, but—“It’s still a rule.”
He sighed and looked away. “I hoped maybe you’d think it was worth breaking a rule for, but I understand.”
Staring at his profile, at his mouth turned down into a frown, I caved. All reservations simply melted inside me, and I squeezed his arm again. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”
His gaze darted to mine, filled with hope. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Way to tempt a girl with science.”
As I returned to driving, he looked out the window, grinning at the pine trees beside the road. “I was really just trying to flirt with all that ‘this car is sex’ talk. I didn’t mean to spark a philosophical discussion.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, trying to reclaim the teasing vibe. “This is my kind of foreplay.”
I chanced a glance at him and found a dark and reckless smile on his face. His hand crept over and squeezed my thigh, forking lightning up and down my leg.
“Behave yourself,” I warned. “I’m driving.”
“My apologies.” He pulled his hand back, though he looked more smug than apologetic, the danger still pulling his mouth into a crooked smile.
We reached the main drag of Sugar Springs, so I slowed back to a crawl, stopping at every quaint traffic light hung over the intersections. Pedestrians pointed and stared at us as we passed.
“I guess we’re a little ostentatious,” I muttered.
A pair of bystanders pointed their phones at us.
“It’s a pretty car,” he said.
I was about to reply when a thing of beauty caught my attention and I slammed on the brakes. He lurched forward, and I threw my arm across his chest on instinct, as if that might somehow stop him from flying through the windshield.
He looked down at my hand, then at me. “What—?”
I pointed out the window to Anne’s Bakery, the sign on the door flaunting a ray of sunshine in the form of OPEN. “Blueberry muffins!”
He blinked at the storefront, then shrugged. “Park the car.”
The air inside Anne’s was warm and smelled of sugar and bread and heaven. Several other patrons loitered, browsing the wares. The glass cases were more than half empty, but I bypassed the cookies, cakes, scones, and pastries to peruse the muffins. Only one blueberry remained, and I pulled a number from the ticket dispenser right as the girl behind the counter shouted, “One-oh-two!”
My ticket read 113.
“I can’t believe they’re still open,” I said when Cam reached my side.
“They cut their hours a lot when Jason got sick. His daughters are running it now.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize.”
After handing off 102’s order, the girl behind the counter caught sight of Cam and threw him a huge smile. “That can’t be Camden Shepherd, can it?”
“Hello, Chelsea,” he said, sauntering closer. “How’s your mama?”
She swiped some hair off her brow with her forearm. “Well, she’d be better if Daddy would listen to his doctor. Did you hear what he got up to last week?”
