Page 95 of A Dash of You

When I arrive, the square is full of people gathering, kids running and playing. From the mere sight of it, I gain an ache in my chest. I don’t want to leave this place. It felt like home and it’s something I longed for. For a long time.

“This looks amazing!” Shelby gushes as she glances at my strawberry pie.

“Thank you. I’m quite proud of it myself.” I am. The fancy piping and strawberries strategically placed with chocolate drizzle on top. If I were a judge, I’d choose it for at least second place.

“Here, let me take it to the table. Someone’s been looking for you.” She smugly grins, but my heart leaps into my throat.

When I follow her line of sight and see who it is, I relax immensely. Logan stands at the vegetable and fruit booth, hands in pockets, scanning around.

I smile. “I’ll see you later, honey,” Shelby says to me.

We’re friends. That part is true, so why am I always so nervous to first see him?

“I’d like to be confident enough in asking if you’re looking for me, but I don’t want it to sound conceited,” I joke as I stop in front of him while he’s pretending to shop for Granny Smiths.

The sunlight reflects off Logan’s eyes, making them appear bluer, and when we stand in front of each other like this, the outside world doesn’t exist.

“I’ll boost your ego and tell you I am, in fact, looking for you.”

My cheeks warm from the intense way Logan glances at me. It’s the same as he always does. Like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world and I’ll admit, if he ever stopped, I’d miss it. This man does something to me and it’s becoming a torturous hunger.

“You look…” He glances down, examining my entire figure.

“Silly. Goofy. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have matched the theme of the festival.” I have a slight regret about the outfit choice.

Logan takes a step toward me, brushing the bare skin of my shoulder as he pulls the loose strap over, fixing it. My heart quickens at the slightest touch. “Actually, I was going to say agonizingly cute.”

Cute.

But the sizzle of his stare says otherwise.

“Thank you,” I tell him as I pretend to scratch an itch that doesn’t exist on my arm.

“Strawberry picking?” One of the beauty salon workers from town holds up a small wicker basket with a toothy smile.

Logan shoots me a look that says, I will if you are, so I kindly take the basket from her.

“We don’t have to pick strawberries if you don’t want to. We can walk around, get food—”

Logan reaches around my back to where I hold the basket and forces my body to his. He holds onto it while keeping his arms locked around me. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

Ah, okay.

The fast thumping of my heart is going to give me away as it vibrates off his chest.

Damn traitor.

He snatches my hand, and the quick gesture takes me by surprise. My heart is going to leap right out of my damn chest, I swear to God.

When we make it into the strawberry fields, I shoot Lana a text in case she goes looking for me and then I start plucking the ripe berries from their vines.

There’re a few giggles from a couple who walk by with their basket overflowing.

“These are damn good.” Logan finishes biting into his strawberry, tossing the stem to the ground.

“I bet they’ll be delicious inside a dessert.” My head turns with recipes.

Logan plucks one off its vine, holding it up for me. “Here. Try one.”

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