Page 11 of Trick or Tease

SAbrINA

I couldn’t help but sneak glances at Garrett as we moved along the buffet table, both of us piling plates high with barbecue ribs, coleslaw, and cornbread. He looked… well, he looked like he’d stepped out of some kind of country music video. It wasn’t fair.

His dark jeans hugged his legs just right, and that simple gray T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and flat stomach in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else.

I’d always known he was good-looking, even back when we were younger, but seeing him now, all grown up, was something else entirely.

The boy with potential had turned into a man who’d fully realized it, and it was impossible not to notice.

We grabbed a couple seats at an empty table. I took a bite of my ribs and the tangy sauce exploded on my tongue. It also dripped all over the tablecloth. Better than on my dress, though.

I kept attacking the rib like a lion going after a gazelle, distracting myself with food because if I kept staring at him, I was going to pounce on him next. Garrett took a bite of cornbread and groaned. And damn, his groaning set my panties on fire.

“I forgot how good real cornbread is,” he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. “Holy shit.”

“Coming home ain’t all bad,” I said, mid rib. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Garrett laughed. “I’m not getting taught table manners by someone with that much barbecue sauce on her face.”

I snatched a napkin off the table and wiped at my face. The napkin came back clean, and I glared at him. “There was no sauce on my face, you liar.”

“Of course not,” he said. “You look great.”

My breath caught in my throat. His jaw was dusted with stubble, and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

My eyes dropped to his biceps. He wasn’t flexing, but when he reached for a napkin, I couldn’t help but look.

It made me want to reach out and trace the lines of muscle with my fingers.

Not that I would. I wasn’t about to let myself get caught up in some schoolgirl fantasy, especially not with Garrett Hogan of all people.

But damn, did he look good tonight, too.

“Thanks,” I said and tore my gaze away, focusing on my plate and pretending to be utterly engrossed in my food.

To be fair, the ribs were falling-off-the-bone tender, just the way I liked them, and therefore worthy of my undivided attention.

But even their deliciousness couldn’t completely distract me from the man standing next to me.

After dancing with him, his spicy cologne felt like it had been imprinted on me.

Between his smell and the smoky scent of barbecue I was in sensory overload.

“You’re really going to town on those ribs,” Garrett said, glancing over at me with a smirk.

“Taste them before you judge me. Caroline nailed these bad boys.” I probably should have been embarrassed, but whatever. I was never going to be a dainty socialite. Good food was good food and life was too short to hold back.

“Fair enough. But you might want to slow down before you bite your own finger.”

I shot him a mock glare. “I’ll bite you if you keep that up.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like old times.

Like we were just two kids hanging out at a town event, teasing each other without a care in the world.

But then I caught the way he glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the crowd with a mix of nostalgia and discomfort. And that warm and fuzzy moment passed.

Garrett didn’t belong here anymore, not really. He was too polished, too civilized, too different. Maybe he had never belonged.

He took a swig of his beer and immediately grimaced, setting the plastic cup down with a look of mild disgust. “Cheap beer,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No wonder I stopped drinking this stuff.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

“It’s terrible,” he insisted, glancing down at his plate of ribs. “And these ribs? They’re too tender. Falling off the bone like this isn’t how they’re supposed to be. It’s almost… mushy.”

I couldn’t help the eye roll. “Seriously? You’re complaining about ribs that are too tender? Most people would kill for ribs like these.”

“Well, most people don’t know what good ribs are supposed to taste like,” he shot back.

I gave him a look that could’ve peeled paint off a barn. I knew because I’d been told exactly that more than once. “Sorry things aren’t up to your standards , Your Highness. I’ll tell them you like yours rare. Or maybe you’d prefer them burnt and dry, huh?”

“I could have classed up the whole affair,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if he was intentionally trying to piss me off or if he was really that big of a dick.

Unfortunately, I was leaning toward the latter.

“It’s not an affair. It’s a party. No one is schmoozing. No one is trying to impress anyone. No one gives a shit who’s wearing what or driving what car.” I knew I was probably snarling, but he had pissed me off. “Have you forgotten what fun is?”

“It’s not like the parties I go to.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t get invited to those.”

“Your loss.”

“So you can’t have fun without top shelf booze and scallops?”

“It sure helps.”

“Sounds like a sad life.” I stared at Garrett, unable to believe what I was hearing. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m just saying, they’re not as good as the ribs I had at this little place in Brooklyn last month. Perfectly smoked, just the right amount of char, and served with this incredible house-made barbecue sauce. You wouldn’t understand.”

I clenched my jaw. “Oh, I wouldn’t understand? Because I’m just a small-town girl who doesn’t know anything about fine dining, right?”

“That’s not what I said,” he replied, though his tone suggested it was exactly what he meant. “But let’s be real, Sabrina. The food here is fine. It’s good for what it is. But it’s not exactly gourmet.”

I shoved another bite of ribs into my mouth, letting the smoky flavor burst on my tongue. “You know what? These ribs are amazing. They’re tender, they’re flavorful, and they’re made with love. Not everything needs to be fancy to be good.”

Garrett smirked. “Love doesn’t make up for lack of skill. The restaurant I took you to in the city—that was a small sample of what my life is like. And it’s awesome. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, I get it. You think your life is so much better because you’ve got your fancy suits, your high-rise apartment, and your overpriced dinners. But you know what? I didn’t really care for that restaurant. It was fine, sure, but I’d take these ribs any day over it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. “You’re just saying that because you’re defensive. You can’t admit that the city has something better to offer.”

“I’m defensive because of your shitty attitude,” I snapped. “I’m just tired of you acting like your life is the pinnacle of happiness. Newsflash, Garrett—not everyone wants what you have. Some of us are perfectly happy with a simpler life.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “Simpler? You make it sound like I’m living some kind of complicated, stressful existence. My life is great. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’m proud of it.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be proud,” I countered, my voice a little softer. “But you act like the rest of us are somehow less because we didn’t chase the same dreams you did. Like we’re settling for something inferior.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just… I guess I don’t understand why anyone would want to stay here when there’s so much more out there.”

“Ever heard of less is more ?”

He waved my question away. “Fine, what would your last meal be, if you could choose anything?”

I looked at him with horror. “Kind of a morbid question, isn’t it?”

“I’d go for a Kobe ribeye with a lobster tail.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Keep your ocean cockroaches away from my last meal.”

He looked properly offended, like he couldn’t imagine why I would not want lobster for my last meal.

“What would you ask for?”

“A greasy bacon cheeseburger from Carolina’s Diner on Main Street.”

His lips curled and he visibly shuddered like it was the worst thing he had ever heard. “You could choose anything, from anywhere in the world, and you choose the place up the road you eat at all the time?”

“What can I say? It’s a good burger.”

“You are out of your mind, legitimately.”

“When’s the last time you had one?”

“The summer before I left, I guess. I haven’t thought about it in years. That used to be my order too.”

“I’ve carried on the tradition. You’re welcome.”

Thankfully, he stuffed his face and stopped talking. He was acting like a prick, probably feeling the need to defend his lifestyle after all the judgmental comments. He didn’t need to take it out on me, though. I just wanted to understand him a little better.

“So where do you vacation these days?” I asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to change the subject before we got into a full-blown argument about food. “I’m guessing it’s not camping at the state park.”

“Actually, I just got back from Thailand a few months ago. Incredible beaches, amazing food, and the culture is fascinating. Next year I’m thinking Bali or maybe the Maldives.”

“Wow,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “That sounds expensive.”

“It is,” he said without a hint of shame. “But what’s the point of working hard if you can’t enjoy the rewards? Life’s too short to stay in one place. There’s a whole world out there to explore.”

I took a sip of my beer, the cheap stuff he’d been complaining about. “I’ve always wanted to see Italy. The history, the art, the food. I’d love to walk through Rome and see the Colosseum, maybe visit some of those little villages in Tuscany.”

“You should do it,” he said.

As if I could just hop on a plane and leave for two weeks. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

“The world is massive, Sabrina. There are cultures and foods and experiences you can’t even imagine. Staying in one place your whole life seems like such a waste.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “A waste? So my life here is a waste?”

“That’s not what I meant?—”

“No, I think it is exactly what you meant. You think anyone who doesn’t want to globetrot and live in a high-rise apartment is somehow missing out on the ‘real’ world.

I’m going to inherit Granny’s house eventually.

I’ve always seen myself living there. Cook in the kitchen that has fed generations of my family. It’s a simple dream, but it’s mine.”

“I think people should want more for themselves. You deserve everything, Sabrina.”

And just like that, my anger was gone. Was he being a dick because he cared and thought I should see and do more?

That was understandable. My parents and Granny said the same thing. They were always telling me to chase my dreams.

I couldn’t let myself read too much into it. This was dangerous territory. The kind of thoughts that led to late-night fantasizing and ultimately heartbreak.

“I’m glad you convinced me to come home for the party,” he said, glancing around the crowded hall with something that looked almost like fondness. “I would have regretted missing this. My parents deserve to have both their sons here for something this important.”

“Even if the food and beer are subpar,” I teased.

“At least it’s edible.” He grinned, letting me know he was kidding. Just trying to push my buttons.

Maybe there was still some part of the old Garrett in there, the one who understood what family meant.

“It’s delicious and you know it,” I said.

“I’m also looking forward to getting back to work.”

And just like that, reality came crashing back down. Of course he was eager to get back to his real life. Of course this was just a brief pit stop before he returned to his world of high-stakes deals and expensive dinners.

I forced a smile, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt. “I’m sure you are.”

“It’s what I live for, you know? The challenge, the adrenaline rush when everything comes together perfectly. There’s nothing quite like it.”

I nodded, even though I couldn’t relate to that kind of ambition at all. My idea of satisfaction came from seeing the corn maze take shape, or watching families laugh together at our pumpkin chunkin’ competition. Small victories, maybe, but they mattered to me.

“Well, before you go back to conquering the corporate world, let us show you around what we’ve been working on tomorrow. I know Billy would love to give you the full tour of the improvements we’ve made. The corn maze, the cider booths, all of it.”

He shrugged. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised by what us small-town folks can pull off.”

“I’m sure I will be,” he said, though something in his tone suggested he was just being polite.