Page 38 of The Promise Of Rain

It was fucking dangerous.

“Can I treat you to a cinnamon bun?”I asked gruffly.

She snorted, a small smile curving her pretty mouth.

It wasn’t a laugh, but it was close.

“How about I spot you this one time,” she replied softly.“There’s no reason we can’t be civil.”

“Civil?”

She nodded sharply then dipped down to move two cinnamon rolls from the case onto a plate.

Hope surged within me as I tried not to stare at her too hard.

The last ten years had wrought changes in her face and her body.She’d been tall and slender with a perfect hourglass figure when I left, but it was her face that was truly stunning.Now she boasted fuller curves and fascinating crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled.

The Jenny that existed in my mind did not quite match the one standing in front of me, and my brain and heart struggled to reconcile the two.

My heart grieved the evidence of the years I missed.

But the changes enthralled me.

Ignoring her comment for the moment, I asked, “Are you going to warm them up?”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling.“I know how you like them.”

The smile dropped off her face.Her hold on the plate faltered, and it clattered to the floor.“Oh no!”she gasped, crouching to pick it up.“I’m so sorry!”

Before I could think twice, I was around the counter and crouched down beside her.Taking the plate from her shaking hands, I rose and put it back on the counter as she backed away from me as far as she could.

“It didn’t break, and nothing fell.”I ventured a smile.“Those sticky bottoms glued them to the plate.”

She nodded and pressed her fingers to her lips.“I, uh, have things I need to do in the kitchen.Can I pack them up to go?”

I watched her for a moment, realizing once more just how far we had to go.She had every right not to trust me.

“You do that,” I murmured.“I have to step out for a few minutes, but I’ll be back to pick them up.”

She wrapped her arms around her ribs, her gaze drifting away.“No problem.”

I stalked out the door and down the street toward the hardware store ready to rip the head off the first person who pissed me off.

Yanking the door open, I plowed straight into Baxter fucking Martin.

I stepped back and dragged my hand through my hair before locking it down and turning back to him.

Standing at his full height, he watched me with knowing eyes.

I grit my teeth together.“Baxter.”

“Deacon.”

Looking past him, I noted no less than three sets of curious eyes unashamedly trained on us.

“Want to step outside for a moment?”I growled.

He nodded, his lips tipping up slightly.“You going to take a swing at me?”