Turtle Pine, Alabama isn't where Amanda wants to be, but
her grandmother needs her help. Since her half-sister can't
make it to pick her up at the airport, a local lad collects
Amanda. She's ashamed that she has forgotten his name; she
dropped the town from memory when she got a quality job
baking wedding cakes. CUPCAKES AND CRUSHES are on the way.
Cade Revlin has come a long way from the skinny kid Amanda
used to know at school. She even dated his older brother -
briefly, until she decided sitting in the library was a
safer way for a girl to pass the time, and got herself
qualified and out of town. This has gained her the
sobriquet of 'book nerd' instead of pride in her
achievement. Cade remarks on the number of single mothers
in town. I tend to think that the town's men had something
to do with that.
Amanda has been asked to help her elderly grandparents,
bakers, make a wedding cake, and a cupcake for each child
in the school, as special orders. She doesn't mind the
cupcakes but the wedding cake pushes into some personal
issues - her half-sister's getting married, to Cade's
brother, and Amanda didn't even know of the engagement.
That's taking the cheek too far.
I like that Cade volunteers to help with baking. Small town
life is slower and gestures mean more. A note from author
Keri Ford tells us that she has known every child in a
school to be given a cupcake in a real life celebration,
which sounds really nice. Amanda remembers Turtle Pine as a
town where she felt miserable and out of place, but we see
that her awkward family circumstances had a lot to do with
that impression. As a grown woman she can see the place and
people through different eyes and finally put some issues
to rest. She might even find some happiness where she least
expected it.
Keri Ford grew up in South Arkansas, and recreates the
country atmosphere for us in contemporary romance novellas
about town life and independent ladies. This tale CUPCAKES
AND CRUSHES would suit anyone wanting an interesting adult
story at a slower pace, with plenty of flour, sugar and
baking trays.
Sometimes there is enough sweet to make up for the
bitter.
Turtle Pine, Book 1
Years ago, a broken heart sent Annie Cookie running from
home, and she’s never looked back—until now. Her
grandpa’s
broken wrist means the family bakery is at risk of losing
two big orders.
Reluctantly, Annie returns to Turtle Pine to help out,
only
to discover it’s not just seven hundred cupcakes she has
to
bake, but also a wedding cake for the half-sister who
stole
her high-school sweetheart. Annie left town to get away
from
her sister. No way is she getting mixed up with her
again.
Once the cupcakes are done, she’s outta there.
Back in high school, Cade Revlin hid his crush on his
brother’s girl, but when his brother dumped Annie for
another Cookie sister, Annie slipped through his fingers
and
out of town. Now that she’s back, he’s determined to give
her a reason to stay.
He’s got one week to change her mind. Or she’ll be gone
in
a
cloud of powdered sugar.
Warning: Contains small-town meddling, family drama and
all
the necessary ingredients for a second chance at love—if
they have the guts to turn up the heat.
Excerpt
Chapter One
Oh, dear heavens, Turtle Pine, Alabama. Home of the
fierce Snapping Turtles. Their biggest claim to fame was
consecutively winning the AA basketball state tournament
for ten years straight.
Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.
The only reason Annie wasn’t breathing in a paper bag
while waiting for her suitcase to come around the baggage
carousel, was because she knew she was only sticking
around long enough to do a favor. Then it was back to the
highly acclaimed bakery she worked at, where the booking
for weddings was currently eighteen months in advance.
Step one of getting out of Turtle Pine the fastest was
finding her ride to her grandparents’ house. There was no
tall, slender woman with an eye out for a hot date
impatiently waiting for her. Not that Annie was shocked,
but she had hoped for once her half-sister Tina would
have something together besides her shirt matching her
shoes.
Annie aimed her phone away from the sunlight pouring in
through the glass front windows of Turtle Pine’s regional
airport. She scrolled through her contacts in a game of
eeny, meeny, miny, moe in hopes of finding a ride from
the airport to her grandparents. Her grandma didn’t drive
anymore, and Grandpa was uncomfortable going much farther
than the grocery store with his broken wrist. Annie had
two other half-sisters she could choose from, but she was
only fine with calling one of them. Sadly, that sister
didn’t live in Turtle Pine. Out of four sisters, Mary was
the only one who hadn’t been raised by their
grandparents.
Contact list it was. A total introvert who’d been gone
from town for years? Annie sighed and scrolled some more.
As if there wasn’t enough fun packed into coming back
home, it was surely about to get even more so. She
shielded the screen with a magazine and attempted to tilt
it a little more to choose from slim pickings when the
shadow of a man moved over her.
“Annie?” The shadow belonged to a tall man who appeared
to have shopped at Camouflage, Mud and More. His brow
lifted a touch as his head tipped to the side. “Annie
Cookie?”
That was her. Now who was he and—wow. She rubbed a hand
under her nose to get a refreshing whiff of her hand
lotion. He must be three days late for a shower. Once
upon a time, you could have found her looking and
smelling like that. She would have been making one of
those goofy in-love grins through every last minute of
it. The very thought of it flipped her stomach. She
couldn’t pin down if it was butterflies or nausea. They
were simultaneously good and bad memories. “That’s me.”
His smile broadened. “You’ve changed since high school. I
would give you a hug, but I’m so nasty.”
He extended a grimy hand her way. There was something
about his face that was vaguely, sort of familiar. By his
greeting, she was one hundred percent sure she was
supposed to recognize him. But her mind was all blank.
Fake smile it was as she accepted his hand. Dear, God,
please let her put a name to his face soon.
Dark mud filled under his nails and there was a stark,
clean line on his wrist showing where he’d washed up. Had
Turtle Pine’s annual mud run been this morning? By the
bags under his eyes, she didn’t think he’d been doing
that. The mud run was more fun and less exhausting. At
least, that’s how she remembered it. She hadn’t actually
participated in it since she was fourteen or so.
“Tina asked if I could pick you up.”
Well, looked like Tina had come through after all. Sort
of. Seeing as she hadn’t seen her half-sister in years,
it would have been nice to have the fairy tale where her
sister greeted her with a hug and excited scream. Fairy
tales hadn’t existed for Annie in a long time though. She
also doubted Tina had started caring about her in the
time she’d been gone. “One of the kids have a ball game?”
They always had ball games. Baseball, football, soccer—
hell, even a golf ball was included. She didn’t have any
confirmation, but based on Facebook, Tina’s life ambition
was to find a dad for her kids at an assortment of
sporting events. Since one such candidate was standing in
front of her, doing her bidding, she was succeeding.
He winced. “She’d probably wish it. She hasn’t talked to
you?”
What a laugh. “No. Grandma said she’d send Tina to pick
me up. I sent her a text before my plane took off to
remind her, but she never responded.”
He didn’t ask, but grabbed her suitcase and had it spun
around and ready to roll all in one seamless move. “Her
oldest and another kid from school snuck out last night,
took her truck and got it stuck in a field. Took us hours
to get it out and her boy got stung by some yellow
jackets.”
“Oh.” Well, damn. Figures about the time she started
thinking the worst, it would bite her on the ass to make
her feel guilty. “Is he okay?”
“He’s okay now. They were leaving the hospital about half
an hour ago.”
“That’s good. I remember her mentioning he had some
allergies.” And good grief, when did Tina’s son get old
enough to drive? Sure, Annie was out of the loop, but she
could swear the boy was just twelve…thirteen?
“So that’s why I’m here.” He pointed at her, aiming his
finger to her toes and back up the front of her. “Those
washable?”
She looked down. “My clothes?”
“Yeah.”
She rubbed a hand over the soft-pink, slinky material of
her skirt. “Yes…why?”
He dusted the front of his shirt. Sunrays beaming through
the windows showcased dust puffing off him. “Because we
used my truck to get your sister’s out of the mud.”
“I see.” And she still saw all the dust in the air. Her
nose tickled and she rubbed at the tip in an attempt to
resist a sneeze.
“I didn’t have time to wash it.” He started for the doors
and the glass opened as he neared.
She glanced at the airport and considered a run for the
ticket counter, but that would be useless. The next
flight out of here wouldn’t be for another week. It
wasn’t so bad yet that she was open to hitchhiking to
Birmingham. Not to mention that somebody who she was
supposed to know was walking away with most of her prized
possessions in her suitcase. She stepped into the
sunshine. Even though fall had landed and cooler air
draped blessedly over grass dying off in the heat of
summer, dampness coated her back. So different from the
last time she’d stood here at the airport. With the
thrill of escaping, the rush of going somewhere new, she
couldn’t recall if she’d been sweating or shivering. She
had been leaving this place that had spit out so much
misery they should rename it that. Misery, Alabama.
Call the darn place for what it was.
There were only a handful of vehicles in the parking lot.
All but one of them was clean. As for the one that
wasn’t…a thick knot landed in her throat. The last time
she’d ridden in a truck that had more mud than paint on
the side of it, she’d said bye-bye to her virginity. It
had been blue and looked a lot like that dirty one in
front of her. The topless Jeep with tires right up to her
neck sat in the front corner lot. Clumps of dirt had
plopped on the parking lot surrounding it. There were no
running boards, so the undercarriage showed off the mud
the tires had slung under there.
Oh boy. It was definitely butterflies dancing in her
stomach, not nausea like she’d hoped for. Shameful,
really. Well, she should feel ashamed, but she wasn’t as
her knees were getting wobbly with each unsteady step
toward the vehicle made for fun. A truck like that one
had played a big part in why she’d gone to a city. Trucks
like those always drove headfirst into bad decisions.
She’d avoided bad decisions for years. Made a point to,
as a matter of fact. Nothing about that was changing, no
matter how appealing his truck looked. It was time to get
her keister to her grandparents’ house before she put
serious thought into ways to delay her trip.
That bakery was the only reason she was back in this
town. Specifically, she was back in town to fill in for
her grandpa, and she would do well to remember that. He’d
taught her everything about baking, decorating, and with
some help from her grandma, all things about life in
general. Of everything she’d been taught and learned and
soaked up, she’d never once expected her grandma to utter
the five words she had two days ago on the phone.
“Your grandpa needs your help.”
As much as Annie hadn’t wanted to return to Turtle Pine,
she’d had her suitcase across her bed before she’d even
found out why. Discovering Grandpa had promised seven
hundred cupcakes to the local school as well as a wedding
cake had slowed her packing, but it hadn’t stopped her.
Her driver, who would hopefully have his name written on
something in his vehicle, because it was way too late now
to admit she didn’t have a clue who he was, grabbed the
door handle. More dirt, and even some pine straw, raked
off in his hand as he tugged it open and revealed a seat
just as filthy. Hunks of mud and leaves and, God, she
didn’t even know what all was clumped on the seat. She
could nearly feel the grit against her thighs, and it
made her remember wind in her hair and cool muddy water
being slung on her cheeks.
“I don’t suppose you have any towels in your suitcase
that you can sit on?” He rubbed his chin that carried a
couple days’ worth of good-looking facial hair. With his
short-cut dark hair topping off tanned skin and statue-
worthy muscles, calling him attractive was just
scratching the surface. This guy couldn’t have gone to
her high school. A girl didn’t forget a guy like him.
Either that or he’d changed a shitton and she couldn’t
even begin to whittle his sex appeal off to fit someone
from her fuzzy memory.
“I…” Lord, there she went. Blank. Her whole mind just
blank. Hot truck and all of a sudden the man driving it
went from that guy picking her up to hello, aren’t you
just an attractive drink of water? She blinked and turned
away to get the vehicle and the man out of sight. Trucks
like this was why she’d started hanging out at the
library halfway through high school. These kinds of
vehicles didn’t park at the public library. Also, since
Tina had sent this guy, after he’d helped her with her
kid, they were probably dating. That was a big heck-to-
the-no and even more of a reason to get her head on
straight. Here for work. Not for play. Side trips into
mud riding? That was off the table. “I’m sure I’ve got
something.”
She turned her bag around and opened it for the T-shirt
she’d stuck down inside. The name of the bakery she
worked at was printed across the front, but it was a size
too big, stained with use and had been now downgraded to
her sleep shirt. With all the food stains on it, why not
add some mud too? Or she could just lift her skirt up a
little and get that feeling of grit against her thighs.
Good grief, she needed something to drink to wet her dry
throat. Ideas of hiking her skirt up to drive down the
road wasn’t exactly a ladylike thought like any her
grandma had tried teaching her. She lifted the large
plastic bag stuffed with her bakery tools and dug for the
shirt.
“Did you pack a kitchen sink in there too?”
Her cheeks warmed over. He was looking? Her pulse kicked
up a notch as her throat tightened. More than ever, she
was in dire need of something to drink now. He was
staring at her bag where her cotton granny panties were
packed? She pushed her utensils over the top of the
suitcase to hide the practical things. She hadn’t come
prepared for a man to pick her up from the airport in an
attractive truck. If she’d known this was coming, she’d
have rethought all her clothes—including the ones on her
back. Cut-off shorts, flip-flops and a tank top sounded
about right for something to change into. Pretty much all
the things she’d left behind when she left this town.
Goodness, this was surely some kind of sickness. Even
with the way he smelled vaguely of a swamp, if he offered
to take her for a ride, she wasn’t sure she could resist.
It’d been too damn long since she’d seen a vehicle like
this one and had the fun it promised to deliver. She
needed to resist any kind of man who drove one. Back
woods. Muddy roads. She’d been gone for years, but she
hadn’t forgotten about that pond tucked in along those
old trails. So maybe there were some parts of Turtle
Pine, Alabama that weren’t too bad.
She cleared her throat and stuffed her hair back.
“Grandpa asked me to come in and help with the shop. I
brought a few of the tools I like.”
“Looks like enough for a whole kitchen in there.”
“Just about.” She pasted on a friendly smile. She
couldn’t go the rest of the day not knowing who this guy
was. Maybe if she put a name to the face, recalled he’d
been a dick to her in school, then she could focus all
her energy where it should be—on her grandparents. “I
didn’t catch your last name.”
“Revlin.” He chuckled, and that sound did tingly things
to the hairs on her neck. His grin wasn’t so bad either
as he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. But the name,
oh heavens, the name was all kinds of wrong. “It’s me,
Annie. Cade Revlin. I thought you knew who I was.”
She paused in her search through her bag and looked up.
Another knot touched the back of her throat. “Revlin.
Like Sheriff James Revlin?” She cleared her throat.
Younger brother to… No, she wouldn’t say that. Best to
stick to his dad. “That is, if he’s still the sheriff.”
He nodded and smiled. “That’s my dad and, yep, he’s still
holding down the fort at the department.”
She looked him over, trying to fit this man’s frame into
the kid she remembered. “Oh my God. Cade. Little Rev.”
He chuckled. “Nobody’s called me that since school.”
The last time she’d seen him was then. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t even recognize you.”
Obviously. Wait. If that was Little Rev then was that…Oh
my God.She took another look at the Jeep—a closer look.
Under the brown clumps along the side was red paint. Air
seeped from her chest and the tight knot in her throat
eased. Red, not blue. Not the same truck. Thank heavens
for little blessings. That would have been too awkward
for words, and believe it or not, probably the only thing
to put her libido on ice. Little Rev had grown up and
looked nothing like his older brother. From the height,
the build, the scruff on his chin and dark hair. She took
time for another look, trying to find some similarity
with the older brother she had known a little too well.
She found nothing. Except for their taste in vehicles.
They had that in common to a T.
Cade patted his stomach. “Mom made me start eating all my
potatoes and rolls. She was determined to put weight on
me before the wind carried me off.”
“Well—” she tucked hair behind her ear, “—it worked.” She
wished mashed potatoes and rolls would do to her body
what it had done to his.
His tight jeans and tucked-in shirt said there was a flat
belly under there. His arms stretched the snug cotton.
His shoulders were broad enough he shaded her from the
sun. Heat curled through her body. Was it suddenly warmer
outside? She got her hands around the shirt in her
suitcase and tugged it out. “Your, ah, Mrs. Revlin should
market that diet plan.”
“I think she does. She calls it Sunday lunch and anyone
is welcome to attend.”
She chuckled and put her suitcase back in order as he
took her shirt and turned for the truck. He pounded the
seat, loosening the dried mud. Little hard balls of dirt
bounced and he swept most of it off to the floorboard. He
spread her shirt over the seat and he faced her while
swiping his hands.
He paused and frowned toward her feet. “Are you going to
be able to get in wearing those shoes?”
Definitely. She tried to keep her smile more polite and
less eager beaver. “I can manage.” She grabbed her skirt,
hiked it halfway up her thighs and set her foot. The oh-
shit handle was right where it needed to be. With a
satisfying tug, she pulled herself up and was in the
seat. Like a glove.
“Nicely done.” He pushed the door closed.
“Thank you.”
“Some girls can’t manage it in tennis shoes. I have to
pick them up.”
Well, if I’d have known that was an option… Bad Annie!
This was why she’d quit cold turkey all those years ago.
Being five days late for a monthly confirmation from her
uterus had scared her butt out of trucks like this one
and right into hard wooden chairs at the library. Where
there were librarians who watched and chatted with her
and in general made it impossible to be doing things with
boys that she shouldn’t be doing. Those cold chairs and
being surrounded by the steady thump of the librarian
checking books in and out had saved her hide. She’d not
only left tempting trucks driven by grinning, shirtless
boys behind, she’d gotten clean out of town and traded
them for a promising future.
He put her suitcase in the back and then climbed in
behind the wheel. He cranked the engine with a heavy foot
over the gas that caused a good rumbling. The vibrations
hummed through the seat, flaking a few crumbs of dirt
down the back of her shirt. That’s how a truck was
supposed to sound and move. She ran her thumbs over the
seams of the armrest of the door. It was made for back
roads, mud and squeezing between trees. Sweat against the
seat and sun on your cheeks. Every last bit of it made
better by a hot guy behind the steering wheel with an ice
chest between them. Especially if the guy stripped his
shirt off.
He put the truck in drive and pulled away from the
airport. “I guess I’m taking you to your grandma’s?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know where I’m going after
that, but she said I could use her car.”
“Good. It’s real awesome what you’re doing.”
A sense of pride overwhelmed her for a bit. “I’d do
anything for them. They were there for me. It wouldn’t be
right to not be here.”
“I know all the kids are happy.”
Work. Work was a good, focused thing to talk about, and
she wasn’t letting this conversation end until the old
wood of her grandma’s porch was creaking under her heels.
“Why did he promise all those cupcakes?”
“Motivation. The football field needed a makeover. He
said if they got out there, worked hard and had it all
looking like it was supposed to before the season
started, he’d bake them all a cupcake each. They got it
done.”
“Sounds like Grandpa.”
“But I don’t just mean being there for your grandpa.
You’re also taking over the wedding.”
She lifted her shoulder. “Might as well while I’m here.
Brides plan so far out in advance. It’s not like you can
just blindly pick a bakery out of the phone book a week
before your wedding.”
He looked a little surprised at that with the way he shot
her a quick glance with raised eyebrows. “No cake
probably would have ruined the wedding.”
“It certainly would have messed up the pictures at the
reception.” She lifted a shoulder. “There’s nothing else
like wedding cake. I swear, I use the same ingredients
with a wedding cake as a birthday cake, and still…there’s
this extra taste with the wedding cake.”
“You’re starting to sound like a romantic.”
“I haven’t made a cake yet that I wouldn’t enjoy a good
romance with.” Not to mention cake had this dependable
aspect. She leaned against the truck, settling in more
and finding herself comfortable in town when not half an
hour ago, she’d been dreading every step. Work wasn’t
just some focus. It was good. It was her purpose. “You
don’t think wedding cake is special?”
“Cake is cake, I guess.”
“Bah.” She readjusted, tucking a foot under her and
facing him a little more while the wind kept her hair
flying out of her face. “It’s not only the cake that’s
different. Everything is. The size, the decorations, the
uniqueness applied to each cake. Sure, birthday cakes are
special, and some can really wow you, but every wedding
cake wows you.”
“I guess.”
“Just the sheer time it takes to make a cake is
different. I’ve spent days working on nothing but one
wedding cake. That’s it. One wedding cake. By the time
I’m done and it’s put together, my back aches from being
bent over, my fingers are cramped from holding the pastry
bag and there’s so much grit in my eyes, they’re
practically living off eye drops.” She breathed. “But
when you’re finished, there’s this indescribable awe. And
then I get that awe again when the bride comes in and
sees the cake for the first time.”
“I hope you’re right and it’ll still be worth it. I don’t
know much about the wedding details. I know my niece is
dressed like a fairy flower girl instead of a princess,
but from what I’ve picked up, your sister has a doozy
planned.”
Annie frowned. “My sister?”
He nodded. “Jane.”
Why in the world would Jane have any input on the cake?
Why would Cade’s niece be… Unless…no.
No.
A nervous chuckle went over her. She wasn’t exactly on
speaking terms with Jane, but somebody would have told
her that her sister was getting married. By not exactly,
she meant, not at all. Still. Marriage. That gossip was
sure to float down a chain somewhere. Facebook at least.
Or by someone like, oh, she didn’t know, her grandma for
starters when she’d called last week.
There was that feeling again. That dread sitting heavy
and hard in the pit of her stomach. The one that had been
there since she’d left home and gotten on the airplane.
One that about had her wanting to make a dash back to the
ticket counter to take a flight to anywhere but here. “I
hope you’re about to tell me Jane quit her job and became
a wedding planner.”
Cade slid his gaze to hers and then back to the road. He
turned at the corner, putting them on her grandparents’
street. “You don’t know?”
She pointed at her face. “Does this look like the face of
someone who knows something?”
“Not so much.” He rubbed the back of his head and dropped
his arm with a breath. “Damn it, I thought you knew.
Jane’s the one getting married. To Peter.”
Holy mother, Annie was going to be sick. That heavy pit
of despair in her belly exploded. She was about two
seconds away from full-on blowing-chunks sick. Her cheeks
cooled, but her head filled with warmth. She put a hand
over her stomach as houses and trees flew past. The wind
from the open-top Jeep should have made her feel better.
That was the rule of riding in a car, wasn’t it? Get
sick, open a window. My goodness, she could hang her head
out the side like a dog right now and wouldn’t find
relief.
“Hold on. Almost there.” Cade’s voice was a soothing
little sliver of a chill pill going through her mind.
Just not enough.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“It ain’t going to hurt this truck any. Don’t get it on
me and we’ll be fine.”
She laughed. A little more ease settled through her
tumbling stomach. She sat back against the seat. Dirt
embedded in the fibers of the cushioned seat rubbed
comfortably with the cold sweat on the back of her neck.
A good little gritty distraction. He turned into her
grandma’s drive and stopped the truck. It didn’t stop all
of her churning, but it was down to manageable levels.
He twisted and rested an arm over the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew. I wouldn’t have said
anything.”
She reached over and patted his hand. “It’s okay. I’d
rather find out now than later when she walks in and
says, ‘Hey, you’re making this for me’. Grandma knew I
wouldn’t have agreed if she’d have told me who it was
for.”
“Just think of all the kids you’re going to make happy
now that you’re here.”
“Oh, I would have come for them. I would have left after
I delivered the last cupcake.” It was petty and sounded
terrible, but she really didn’t care. Getting to turn her
back on her sister—even after all these years—felt like
the sweet justice she’d been waiting to deliver. And in
the form of refusing to make a cake—a sweet? Oh man, she
was practically foaming here at the idea of it. She
glanced over and tried to look sorry about it, but she
wasn’t feeling it. “I know this is your brother’s wedding
and you probably think I’m horrible for even saying that
out loud.”
He lifted his shoulder. “All I know is you and Peter were
together, and then he was making out with Jane.”
Yeah, that was a good roundup of the story. There were a
lot of middle parts in there. Hugs and concerns from her
sister. A couple of, “Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll talk to
him.” Just when Annie had thought she was going to get
the supportive sister who’d have her back like she’d
always wanted, Jane stuck her tongue in Peter’s mouth and
put her hands in places they shouldn’t have been. After
all these years, finally, this was her moment to stick it
to them. She was pretty sure she was supposed to be too
old for those kinds of thoughts. Then again, revenge was
best served cold, they say. “Last I was here, the grocery
store sold box mix and canned frosting. They can do that
together.”
He chuckled and got out of the truck. “Let me get your
bag.”
She sat forward in the vehicle and stared down. Getting
married. Last she knew, they’d broken up. Then gotten
back together. Back apart. She knew this because that’s
usually when people who didn’t talk to her attempted to.
To see if she was getting back with Peter now that he
wasn’t with Jane. That had been her life for two long,
miserable years until Annie had gotten out of town, left
that fun dance behind and hadn’t kept up since. At times,
it seemed like a lifetime ago. Today? Felt more like
yesterday.
Cade opened her door and leaned on the frame. It brought
him in closer and nearly towering over her.
She glanced to him. “I don’t want him back. I never did.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not judging you.”
She sat back in the seat, rubbed the top of her thighs
and straightened her dress. “I don’t want you to think I
want him back or anything. Not wanting to do their
wedding cake isn’t jealousy. I just plain and simply
don’t want any part of their lives mixing in mine.”
“Watching them cut a homemade cake sitting on a foil
board could be fun.”
She laughed. “I would actually love to see that.”
“Guess you won’t be going to the wedding?”
“I wasn’t even invited.”
“I’ll take pictures for you.”
She swung her legs out and faced him. “You know why I
don’t want to do the cake at the wedding. This is your
brother getting married. How come you’re on my
bandwagon?”
He leaned in a little closer. “Is it fine if I’m
completely honest?”
“Sure.”
“I always liked you better than your sister.”
She blinked and had no words. Not what she’d been
thinking. At all. So. Not. Thinking…that.
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m sorry he did it, but I’m also
a little glad my brother cheated on you. If he hadn’t,
y’all might have gotten married, and the rest of my life
would be one awkward, uncomfortable moment after
another.”
Oh, boy. Holy hell, Little Rev was not little anymore,
and he was coming on to her like no man ever had. Boy,
oh, boy. Except. She eyed him. “You’re dating my other
sister, Tina, aren’t you?”
He straightened like she’d hit him. “No. Where did you
hear that?”
“She asked you to pick me up. You helped her last night.
I thought—”
He put his hand up, stopping her. “I’m a deputy. That’s
why I helped her last night. She asked me to get you from
the airport because I was standing there when your
grandma called to remind her.”
He got her about the waist, lifted and stood her on her
feet on the ground. At least, she thought they were her
feet. “I…uh.” She cleared her throat. “Okay. I don’t know
what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.”
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