Page 55 of Until It Was Real

She giggles. “Do you want anything to eat with your coffee?”

“How do you know I’m going to order coffee?” She cocks an eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll have a coffee and a…” I scan her offerings. “What’s in a pumpkin moon pie?”

Blossom elbows me. “Who cares? It’s pumpkin.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re one of those annoying people who go crazy when pumpkin spice arrives in the grocery store, aren’t you?”

She winks. “I’ll never tell.”

Parker hands us each a pumpkin moon pie. “It’s a pumpkin spice cookie filled with marshmallow cream and decorated to resemble the full moon over the tide.”

I take a bite and moan as the flavors of pumpkin and marshmallow hit my tongue. “I don’t understand how you’re not working at some fancy patisserie in a big city somewhere, but Smuggler’s Hideaway is lucky to have you.”

Pain flashes in her eyes but then she blinks and it’s gone. Before I have a chance to ask her what’s wrong, a man leans over me.

“My treat,” Rhett says as he hands her cash.

“We can pay for ourselves.”

“Speak for yourself,” Blossom whisper-shouts. “I personally never say no when a gentleman wants to buy me a slice of heaven.”

If she only knew. This pumpkin treat is not a slice of heaven. Heaven is spending the night twisted up in the sheets with Rhett. Heaven is him touching and tasting every inch of your body. Heaven is him bringing you wave of pleasure after wave of pleasure.

I wrangle my hormones under control. Rhett may want a relationship but I’m not convinced. My past says men are liars. Even if there are a few good men, I wouldn’t be the one to stumble upon one, considering my track record with the opposite sex.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He grins. “Where else would I be but with you, Havoc?”

“Sorry, but I’m spending the day with my friend, Blossom.”

Blossom raises her hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m happy to have the help of a local forThe Smuggler’s Gauntlet.”

“Excellent.” Rhett rubs his hands together. “I’ve played a Prohibition officer for years. We’ll have an advantage.”

Prohibition officer? “Hold on. What isThe Smuggler’s Gauntlet?”

“It’s a contest where you sneak ‘contraband’ past Prohibition officers. You evade capture in a maze of hidden tunnels, foggy alleyways, and secret doors,” he explains.

I frown. “I don’t think you want me on your team. I’m not very fast.”

“Being fast isn’t a requirement. Being sneaky is.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Another gust of wind rolls in off of the ocean and I shiver.

He frowns. “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

He studies me and my chattering teeth. “You are cold.” He snags my hand and leads me through the market until we reach a clothing stand.

“I don’t need another sweatshirt.”

“Too bad because I’m buying you one.”

I yank my hand away from his. “You’re being controlling again.”

He sighs before raking a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be controlling. I don’t want you to be cold. Let me do this for you, please.”

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