He popped a slice of cantaloupe between his lips and chewed thoughtfully.
‘Worth waiting all year for.’ He gave me that grin again, the one that turned my insides into a puddle.
‘My cousin brought them up from The Valley. Just picked this week.’
‘No wonder they’re so good,’ he muttered slipping another piece into his mouth. ‘Let’s talk…cobbler,’ his voice dipped dramatically on the last word.
In Carthage my Peach Cobbler is nearly as famous as my cleavage. Every year the women stopped by my booth to chit-chat and try to wrangle my secret cobbler recipe out of me—the men, well they came for my cleavage. I flicked a long dark curl behind one ear and gave him a smile I know bordered on a smirk. ‘I made six this year. I hear three are gone and the bidding is fierce over the last three.’
‘I know…those assholes outbid me!’ He leaned in so close I could nearly count his eyelashes, his freckles and every shade of green that made up the brilliant hue of his eyes. ‘I dream about your cobbler. All. Year. Long.’
‘Poor baby.’ I laughed, then pursed my lips thoughtfully. ‘Is that all you dream about?’
‘I’ll never tell.’ The husky tease of his voice made my skin tingle. The late afternoon breeze ruffled his hair and plastered his t-shirt to his chest. Finally, he rested his muscular forearms on the counter until we were nearly nose to nose. ‘I think you should come home with me and make one for me every day.’
‘Come home?’ I quirk one eyebrow and chuckle softly.
“Since you won’t give me the recipe for my cook.’
“You don’t need me, querido , if you got a cook,’ I purred, leaning closer.
‘Querido ?’ he repeated with a frown.
‘Darling.’ I smiled and added, ‘or dear, if you prefer.’
‘Ah, is see. So…my little peach, what would it take?’ He fished a slice of strawberry from the bowl and slid it into his mouth, then licked his fingers again.
‘I like a man who knows how to use his tongue.’
Even as Chris howled with laugher, a deep sound that drew more than one censorious stare, I hear a gasp from behind him. My seventeen-year-old assistant who I’d surely corrupt if she spent anymore time in my company. Poor Fankie took naive to a whole new level. I should behave myself, but I’m not a woman to let something like that stop me. I’m not afraid to go after what I want.
“You want my recipe? What’s it worth to you?’ I murmured while quickly assessing the crowd. We only had another hour to go before we closed down for the day and all of downtown became a dance floor. Then the crowd would be thick with drunken festival-goers intent on making asses of themselves.
‘The sun, the moon, the stars—all my earthly riches for just a taste—‘
I licked my lips, aware of those eyes focused on my mouth. ‘Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement.’
His eyes warmed noticeably as he asked what I had in mind.
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