Page 91 of Against The Rules

“Nah,” she says, dumping the first pepper into the bowl along with the romaine. “This is nice.”

“I agree.”

For a second, we grin at each other like total fools, then get back to prepping the food. Before long, she’s made quick work of the peppers and onion, even finding some carrots in the fridge, and my second chance sauce is simmering happily on low over the gas range.

“Smells really good,” she says, coming to stand next to me. “You know, I was wondering, for your team barbecue contest, is there a dessert portion?”

“Yeah, and I haven’t even started to bother with that.” I check my smoker app on my phone, and it shows the heat’s holding stable at a solid two-fifty. Probably only needs about an hour more. “Why?”

She puts her arm around my waist, and I exhale slowly. Her touch feels so good, even like this, simple and sweet, that it’s nearly painful.

“I found a recipe that looked really good.”

“You looked for recipes?”

“Yeah, of course. It was part of our agreement.” She gives me a little shove, and I blink down at her. “It’s a peach cobbler. Smoked.”

“I would love to smoke your peach cobbler,” I say seriously.

“Shut up,” she says, laughing. “I mean it. It looked delicious. It had like, a browned-butter bourbon sauce. It sounded like it would taste like heaven.” She hums at the memory.

“Fuck, Peaches, when you talk about it like that?” I shake my head. “I don’t stand a chance.”

“Against my peach cobbler recipe?” Her shoulders shake, and I stir the barbecue sauce, loving this. “Now I know just how to take you down.”

“Savannah, you can take me down to taste your peaches any day.”

Her laughter dies. “Kiss me.”

How can I say no to that?

I can’t.

CHAPTER 38

SAVANNAH

His kiss turns deeper, his touch setting me on fire all over again.

“Turn the sauce off,” I tell him.

He does, then stalks toward me with intense focus that has my heart beating faster. “What do you have in mind, Peaches?”

“Where’s Jacob?” I ask, grinning at the terrible, delicious idea taking shape in my head.

I take a step back, and he follows me.

His dimples flash, and I take another step back. “He went out to dinner with a friend.”

“When will he be back?” I bat my eyelashes innocently, stepping back again and hitting the countertop.

Ty follows me, his hands bracing the countertop on either side of my hips. I stare up at him, eyes as wide as possible.

“Why would you want to know?” he says, his voice low.

“Just curious.” I shrug.

“I don’t believe you.” He leans down, brushing his nose against mine.

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