Page 35 of Rumor Has It

“Spoons. We need spoons.” She talks to herself frantically, proving she’s as hungry as I am.

“Why can’t your family get its own wine?” I raise a brow as we tuck into the picnic.

“Popularity and, depending on the yield of peaches to blend with, some years it’s harder to come by. Bad weather growing season means less reserve wines to sell the next.”

“What you’re saying is by including this particular bottle, your mom, aunt, and Paisley are trying to get back in your good graces.”

“Or buttering you up.” Cassidy takes a forkful of slaw. “They salivated over you in jeans. I hate to see their reaction to you in a suit on New Year’s.”

Other than the twinge of smugness that another woman looking at me the way Cassidy does might upset her, I ignore the comment as nothing I haven’t endured before.

“The only thing that needs butter is these biscuits. Oh, my lord…” I stuff my face. “They’re like clouds. I need to thank the goddess who created these. I need your aunt’s recipe.”

“Why? You don’t cook!” She covers her full mouth, laughing.

I love her laugh and that we’re comfortable enough in front of one another to shove food into our pie holes like we haven’t eaten in a year.

“And you’re welcome.” She wipes her mouth on a napkin.

I stop chewing. “You?”

“Me,” she confirms, as if it’s no big deal. “My recipe. I made the slaw, too. Not that it’s hard. They all think it is, but it’s getting the proportions right. And don’t tell anyone, I use honey instead of sugar. ”

“I don’t even know what that means. Or why it would make a difference. It’s good, though. Amazing. You’re talented with food, Cass.”

She dips her chin, thanking me, and crunches into a bite of chicken.

We plow through the containers, but agree to leave the dessert for later.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate so much, so fast.” I rub my stomach.

“I can. Thanksgiving.” In her seat, Cassidy mirrors my position.

“I might’ve microwaved a burrito for turkey day.”

“The thought of a burrito right now.” Her cute nose scrunches as she holds a finger to her lip and bloats her cheeks, making a puking face.

I’m mid-yawn and chuckle.

“Aw, does fresh air and a full belly make you tired?” Cassidy teases.

“Something like that. This woman I met also kept me up late.” I wink, placing my hand over hers.

“Want to lie down before we tackle the boxes in the attic?”

I draw Cassidy up from her chair and toward my chest. “Nah,you never know how long we’ll wind up in bed for,” I say with a hint of suggestion.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, Roomer.”

I shake my head in a self-deprecating manner. “Not in the least, Ms. Cavanaugh.” This Isaiah is terrified of everything that can ruin it with her before what we have even gets off the ground.

I kiss Cassidy slowly. A surefire promise waiting will be worth her while. Then I twirl her and throw her off balance, curling my body around hers. My hand roaming to cup her boob is thoroughly intentional, and I duck my mouth underneath her ear so the scruff of my beard tickles her neck. I want to feel close to Cassidy. As close as two people can get in a week’s time, anyhow. She lets me carry her weight and we left-foot, right-foot toward the foyer.

Cassidy makes—almost—acting like a gentleman so fucking easy. The more she treats me like I’m a normal person she’s comfortable being around, the more I want to impress her by helping the way every person I’ve interacted with at the ranch does.

But since Cassidy and I are compatible in the sack, she’s also keeping my dick at half mast—when she hasn’t gotten me completely hard. It’s taking all my willpower to keep my hand out of her shirt and the both of us upright.

My suitcases are right by the front door where Daveigh’s note said they’d be. I unfurl myself from the cocoon I’ve made around Cassidy.

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