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Story: Ms. Temptation

I nodded. “Nowthatsounds like you.”

“You calling me competitive, Hot Stuff?”

“Let’s not forget mouthy.”

“Hey!”

Her mock protest left me chuckling as I snagged another bite of tamale, glad to have lightened the mood. As we were finishing our lunch, I spied a familiar dark head.

Rosie had spotted me too, running up to us with a soccer ball in hand.

“Hi, Uncle Ty.”

“Rosie! What are you doing here?” I asked, glancing between her and two other girls on her soccer team, Lissie and Gemma.

“Sorry, Coach. It looks like you’re busy, but the girls wanted to say hi,” Gemma’s mother apologized as she got close enough to be heard.

Rosie leaned into my side, snuggling next to me. “Who’s the pretty lady, Uncle Ty? Are you going to bring her to family dinner? Mom says you need a woman who’s not a one-hit wonder.”

Her faux whisper wasn’t nearly as quiet as she thought, and Andi’s shoulders shook with the effort to hold back her laughter. Rosie’s face scrunched with confusion. “What’s a one-hit wonder, Uncle Ty?”

“Girls, it’s time to go. Coach, we’ll see you at the next game.” Gemma’s mom saved me, butting in with a contrite smile as she pulled them away.

“Coach, huh?”

Thankful Andi left the one-hit wonder comment alone, I nodded.

“Yeah, in case you didn’t catch it, Rosie is my niece. I coach her soccer team.”

“That’s freaking adorable.”

I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. Would it change her opinion if she knew Rosie was also my daughter? There was a slight resemblance, mostly in the shape of our noses, but not enough to give us away. I opened my mouth, then closed it, something holding me back. Maybe blurting out our family dynamics on the first date was too soon. It had been an immediate red card for other women I dated, and I didn’t want to risk it with Andi. Not yet. Not when we were getting along so well. I took in Andi’s generous smile, those soft lips calling to me. There’d be time to tell her later.

“Ready to keep exploring?” I asked instead.

I threw away our trash before extending my hand for Andi’s. Her soft fingers clasping my own made my heart race. The warmth of our connection both exciting and soothing. I’d existed without the comfort of someone else for too long. Usually, I’d hang out at the Knit Wits booth, making small talk with customers and chatting with Jeannie or whomever was on shift with me. But such surface interactions lacked the closeness of having a person there just for me. With me.

We wandered the other stalls in the market, admiring the handicrafts and foods. This time of year, the market was small, but when late spring hit, it would be flush with more shoppers and produce. Andi picked up a few more items for her canvas bag before we returned to the Knit Wits booth with Jeannie.

“Did you buy everyone out?” she asked teasingly.

“I certainly thought about it. This is a great farmer’s market. But I have to get going, and I know you still have work to do,” Andi said, poking me in the arm.

The sparkle in her eyes and good humor had me wishing we were somewhere more private. With Jeannie as witness, hauling off and kissing her seemed a bit much. Instead, I smiled.

“I’m glad you came to have lunch with me today. Maybe next time it can be dinner?”

Her lips quirked. “I believe Rosie already beat you to that invite,” she teased.

“Well, I’ll second it then. We’ll have to set something up after the trial is over.”

I didn’t want her to leave. She stared steadily back at me, as if waiting for me to make the first move. Cheeks flushed, lips velvety, I wanted nothing more than to sink into her softness and yield to the subtle tension between us.

Jeannie cleared her throat, reminding me that we had a whole market full of witnesses. In other circumstances, kissing Andi in public would be my pleasure. But with our jury duty obligations, I felt the pressure to be more circumspect. I’d argue that Andi couldn’t sway me with kisses, but it’d only take a single look in the mirror to see the lie in my eyes. Andi’s influence on me was growing faster than I wanted to admit.

Unable to resist watching her as she walked away, I believed I managed some level of cool, pretending to reorganize the hats at the same time, but Jeannie wasn’t fooled.

“You really like her,” she teased.