Page 5 of Rumor Has It

She moves closer, erasing all other senses when the scent of berries and something sweet and musky invade my nose.

I sniff the air surrounding us more than I should. My subconscious is determined to find out why she smells amazing. Whatever it is, it makes me salivate like a hungry kid who has had a giant piece of sugary cake placed in front of them.

I’m hyper aware of Cassidy reaching past me. She replaces the first mug on the shelf and opens the next cabinet over.

“I can’t use this when anyone else is here. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t mean anything by it. It’s more of a vacation tradition,” she explains.

I hadn’t missed the words on the Christmas pajamas stretched over her ample chest, so I fully expect a kitschy “Santa’s favorite” mug. But the one she puts down is plain white with black lettering that reads “This is my fuckoffee.”

“Promise I won’t take it to heart.” I laugh.

The words don’t match her sweet aroma.

I add the cream and fill her cup to the rim. Then I bring both of our drinks over to a large kitchen table, hoping she’ll sit a spell. As much as I fucking shouldn’t be, I’m enchanted.

My stomach bottoms out when she stays by the counter.

“I’m not responsible for anything when the B&B is closed.” Cassidy explains what Gatlin mentioned to me. “I have a few day-old muffins if you’re hungry?”

I open my mouth to reply, but she’s already gone to fetch them, calling behind her, “It’s normal for me to eat one before breakfast.”

“Are you part hobbit? Is that why you need a snack before and between every meal?” I raise my voice so she can hear me in the next room.

She reappears from wherever she went wearing a zipper-front sweatshirt and clutching two enormous muffins that look like they’ve come from a gourmet bakery. “Aw, hobbits steal my heart.”

I sit back in the chair, trying not to let on that I’m put off by the sweatshirt. However, I’m not at Kingsbrier to stare at Cassidy’s tits, and other than our initial surprise at seeing one another, she seems relaxed around me.

Cassidy ties her shoulder-length hair in a loose knot and putters, comfortable in her space. She warms the muffins. Gets the butter from the fridge. A knife from a drawer. Placing a plate with a muffin on the woven placemat in front of me, she sits down at the head of the table where I set the fuckoffee cup intending to see if she’d sit beside me.

“It’s the oversized hairy feet that get to you.” I wink and gesture at my wiggling toes.

“It is not, stop!” She blushes and her lip quirks. “Don’t make sex jokes about cute little hobbits this early in the morning. Maybe later when you’re fully clothed,” she remarks, slicing the top off of her muffin and slathering it with butter.

“Who said anything about innuendo? Not me. Clearly you have a hobbit fetish or you wouldn’t be eating first breakfast.”

Her chest rumbles, and she covers her full mouth with her napkin. “Are you a reader?” she asks once she’s swallowed.

“Movies. Too many of them lately. Are you? Nope, wait! Let me guess, you’re into Christmas romance novels with short guys. Elves. Ooh, Legolas!”

This makes Cassidy crack up. “Legolas isn’t a short elf. Not Christmas elf short, anyway.”

“So, you’re into tall guys.” This feeds my ego. I’m over six feet.

What are you doing? You’ve hardly left your house since your wife died.My subconscious reminds me.

“I didn’t say that.” Cassidy looks up at me from under her lashes.

I have to shift in my seat to ease the bind of my jeans from the bulge in my pants.

“You know who you are, right?” she says, quiet as a mouse. “Are we allowed to have this discussion? Would it get either of us into trouble?”

I want to ask“with who?”Kylie won’t give a damn. Except, I understand where Cassidy is coming from. Celebrities get accused of taking advantage of their status all the time.

My flirting game is off. I should call it quits for both our sakes. I’m leaving tonight and Cassidy doesn’t deserve to be led on.

“I know who I am,” I say solemnly. I’m a guy who hasn’t been interested in getting to know a pretty girl for quite a while. “We’re discussing why you eat a muffin before breakfast. These aremmm...by the way.”

I pop another bite into my mouth to shut myself up. Good lord, if this is what yesterday’s banana nut muffin tastes like, I want a baker’s dozen fresh from the oven.

---