Page 40 of Sweet and Salty

“Laura?” He takes one step into the kitchen, his hand steadying my arm. “Are you okay?”

No. I’ve died and gone to Hot Older Guy in Suit Heaven. It will be this fantasy and my vibrator later tonight. Maybe I’ll scream while I come with it inside of me. I’ll scream so loud Jesse will hear me in his apartment, and he’ll barge in only to find me—

“Are you sick?” Jesse moves forward and presses the back of his hand to my forehead, his brow furrowed with concern. “You don’t have a fever.”

“Sorry,” I choke out. “I don’t think rampaging libido is an approved medical diagnosis.” Oops. His pupils dilate, and the sides of his nose, almost hidden by his two-day mustache, flare. Then his face softens into a sensual smile.

“You would know,” he says softly. He’s so close to me, and his hand slides from my forehead down the curve of my neck. The way he’s staring at me, the way he doesn’t retreat. Does he want this too? Desire flashes bright and hot inside me.Kiss him, you horny toad,it whispers in my brain.

He tilts his head, so close that his scent swarms around me. He must have come from work too, but he’s put on some sort of cologne. Or maybe it’s the hand soap at Moe’s. He smells like lemon and grass in the morning after a night’s rain.

“Hey Laura, do you know where the extra—” Sasha’s voice cuts through the moment, and I jump a foot away from Jesse. “Never mind.” Their tone holds a not-insignificant amount of amusement. “I can find the extra muffins. Carry on.”

“No, it’s okay.” Shit. Shit, shit, double shit. Sasha isn’t one to gossip, but if I look like I’m about to climb Jesse like an alpinist, that’s going to show up at the wedding. And the wedding will befullof gossips. Replete. Swarmed. Thronged with gossips. Not mentioning my family and the Drydens. Hateful people. “Jesse, have you met Sasha? They run the entire show when I’m off in la-la land somewhere.”

“That can’t be true. I doubt you’re ever in la-la land.” Jesse waves to Sasha over my head. “Hey. I recognize you from the store. You’re into rock climbing.”

“Right.” Sasha leans a hip against the side of the counter, amusement still playing over their delicate features. “You work at Moe’s. I’ve heard a lot about you. Apart from the tourist trade, we don’t get a lot of newbies in St. Olaf.”

“Well, here I am.” He says it while staring at me, which only serves to remind me that I’m still in a dirty apron, only halfmy makeup is done, and I have my hair up in one of my work bandanas. Great impression, Laura. He’s definitely not about to kiss me, not if I look like this. “By the way, why does everyone call it Moe’s? It says Tools and Trinkets on the sign.”

“Moe’s ex-wife named it, and he never changed it.” Sasha crosses their arms over their chest.

Without bothering to excuse myself, I head for the small office where I stashed my dress bag and purse holding my high heels, but I can still hear them through the open door. I hurry through the rest of my makeup.

“Why didn’t he change it?” Jesse asks.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sasha directs this at me as I walk back into the room, carrying my things for the wedding. “He’s still in love with her.”

Another twist of desire knots deep inside my stomach.

“I can’t imagine loving like that,” Jesse says to Sasha. “That whole lifelong unrequited thing.”

The desire coils into disappointment. Emotionally unavailable. Big surprise. “Some people find it,” I say, my own voice surprising me. It shouldn’t. New Laura stands up for herself. “My moms had it. Even when Ma Allison forgot everything else—her words, how to eat, how to keep her head upright—she always recognized Mom Marie. Mom held her hand almost continuously for the three days before she died.”

Jesse looks at me with some strange, inscrutable look that in no way resembles pity. “I’ll bet you sayalmostbecause you were the one forcing her to eat and rest and go to the bathroom.”

The feeling of being seen, being recognized for who I am and what I’ve accomplished, hits me like a thousand-pound gorilla.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to mount him like an ape.

“We had better get going,” I say quickly. “We don’t want to be late for the wedding.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jesse

I’ve neverbabysat a cake before. It puts a definite crick in my neck, but listening to Laura sing along to show tunes in the driver’s seat makes it all worthwhile. She has a pretty, lilting voice, and she goes all in, even if she’s off key. I really like seeing her imperfections, and that she feels comfortable enough with me to show them.

Spending half an hour in an enclosed space with a gaudy four-tiered cake and a woman you almost—but might have if Sasha hadn’t walked in—kissed is a new form of torture for me. Laura in every form is appealing, whether she has on makeup or not, whether her hair is frizzy or curling over her shoulders like a model. She’s still dressed for work in her soft scrub pants and a loose short-sleeved T-shirt that adheres to her breasts in a way that I should not be staring at. The scent of sugar and chocolate clings to the inside of her car like a limpet to a shark.

We make it to the resort in decent time, despite her numerous half-whispered remarks about tourists clogging theroads. As far as I can see, there are only one or two extra cars around.

The resort is set against the lake which is, quite simply, beautiful. It’s different from Florida lakes, which have a flat expanse decorated with low swamp grass. Here flowers of every color bloom and the lake is a kaleidoscope of blues. The resort is a collection of sprawling timber buildings with dark green roofs and balconies with white and dark green Adirondack chairs waiting for tired butts ready to relax.

Laura parks around the back of the main building in a parking structure built underground “so they can heat it in the winter,” she tells me with an eye roll. That seems like a perfectly good reason to me, but Laura is a local. Maybe she likes freezing her pretty round buns off in the dead of winter.

I should not think about her frozen buns.

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