Page 59 of The Promise Of You

“Oh, right.” The events meeting for the fair. I tug at my T-shirt and run my fingers through my hair to smooth it, struggling to keep my eyes off Justin.

Breathe in, breathe out. Justin’s scent hits me like a painful memory.

I straighten my shoulders and walk out without making a fool of myself.

“Chloe, you made it!” Cassandra beams. “Let me summarize things for you and Justin. This year we’re shaking things up. We’re teaming you up. Easy Monday will be paired with The Wright Bakery to create snackables with a Vermont flair. The King Farm will work with Kiara for an ice cream and dessert stand. And The Lazy Salamander and Kevin’s Fine Dining will be working together to create a signature dish that blends comfort food and creativity.” She takes a deep breath, her eyes darting between the two of us.

“Justin, can I count on Shane for that?”

“Absolutely,” Justin answers, so close to me his deep voice does illegal things to my panties. Remember: we hate him! I chastise my body.

“Chloe, can we count on Samuel to work with Shane on this creation?”

Not over my dead body. I don’t even know if I’ll still have a chef tomorrow. Or tonight. “I’ll work with Shane,” I answer, my voice showing way more confidence than I feel.

A few faces turn my way. Cassandra is beaming. “Excellent! Duly noted.” She scribbles something in a ring binder. “You and Shane will get back to me in the next few days to update me. I’ll need the name of the dish, a brief description, and pricing. Feel free to create more than one dish.”

“Strike that, Cass,” Justin cuts.

More heads turn our way.

“I’ll be working with Clov-Chloe.”

Cassandra tilts her head. “How nice! I love it. Also heads up, you’ll also both be assigned to a common booth at the fair. Next up, ticket sales! We need twelve volunteers…”

My ears buzz. My head is spinning. My heartbeat increases and my palms are sweaty.

Yet I’m in the middle of a park, in the heart of a small village, under a great, open sky.

I’m going to be working with Justin.

How did that happen?

“Give me your phone,” Justin says.

I snap my head up. His sparkling green eyes are trained on me, his blond curls form like a halo, and I know exactly how good his mouth feels, yet my gut clenches.

“What?” I say on an exhale.

“Your phone.”

Is he crazy?

“I just want to put my number in it.” My throat tightens and my thighs clench. Does he not realize how inappropriately sexy his suggestion is?

I square my shoulders. “That’s not necessary.”

He dips his head. “Right. Do you want to set a meeting now?”

“Nope. That meeting can be an email. No point wasting each other’s time.”

He kicks the grass with the tip of his boot. “Gotcha.” Then he spins around and walks to Lazy’s, ass molded in his faded jeans, shoulders rolling under his white shirt, his ink showing on his tan forearm.

God. What am I going to do now?

To: Justin King

From: Chloe Sullivan

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