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“People thought we were a good match.” Shoving the ice cream in the freezer, I’m still pissed at the implications of Digger’s words.

“You didn’t win Princess Peach?” I look up and Taron’s smiling down at me. It melts the anger I’m feeling just a little.

“I never liked pageants. Momma won every pageant she ever thought about entering, but it just wasn’t my thing.”

He leans against the bar with a chuckle. “No wonder you’re so pretty.”

His compliment is like tingling electricity in my veins, and I admire how the sun has put gold highlights in his dark hair. His skin is tanned, and if it’s possible, he’s even more handsome. It’s time, and I’m more than ready.

“I’d better get started on dinner.” Rising on my toes, I kiss his soft lips.

My insides are humming just thinking about the special dessert I have planned. It won’t be long now…

9

Taron

I don’t know how she does it. For Sunday dinner, Noel served us braised brisket with bourbon peach glaze. Tonight, she gave us pork chops with grilled peaches, and when I stop by her bedroom before saying goodnight, she’s back to mixing up her homemade organic beauty products.

She’s amazing, and she dismisses it all out of hand.

“Cooking is just practice. I’ve been whipping up those same meals a couple times a month for as long as I can remember.”

It’s after ten and we’re in the kitchen whispering. I stand behind her watching as she carefully pours candle wax into small, labeled jars.

“You should write them down and sell a cookbook along with all this other stuff.” I kiss the side of her jaw, and she lets out a little noise that registers straight to my cock.

“You’re going to make me spill wax everywhere.”

“Am I distracting you?”

“You know you are.” She lifts the pan and turns her face to kiss me gently on the lips.

I swear, leaving her alone in her bedroom these past few nights has been about the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It’s taken many cold showers and much jerking off to relieve the pressure.

“So I was thinking about what you told Digger in the shed—about how you don’t want to go to the ball with Sawyer leaving and everything happening…”

Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t respond. Her eyes are focused on filling the small jars.

“Did you just say that to put him off or did you mean it?”

She finishes the last pour then her whiskey eyes me

et mine. “What’s it to you?”

Clearing my throat, I look down at my shoes, remembering all the reasons I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance. In a few days I’ll be gone… Is it fair to keep pursuing her?

“I was wondering how you felt about all that stuff he said.”

“He knows a lot about the business. I guess that’s why my brother hired him. Is that what you meant?”

“Are you interested in him?”

“I never have been.” She carries her candle supplies to a large pail in the sink and carefully places each item inside. “Still… He’s not a bad-looking guy. I guess if I were on the market—”

“You’re not on the market,” I snap.

Fuck fair. Hearing her say those words stirs something deep inside me.