Page 149 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I cringe, and Perry shoots me a knowing look.
“Fine, fine, you’ve made your point. But are you saying that if I try these apples and still feel like they all taste the same, you’ll stop hanging out with me? Will I lose my job?”
He lifts his shoulders in a playful shrug as if weighing the pros and cons. “I’dprobablylet you keep your job. But virtual only. Definitely nopicnics in the orchard.”
“Well now you’ve told me too much. I love a good picnic. You’ve given me a reason to lie.”
He stops the Gator. “Nah. I watched your expression when you tasted the last apple. I know genuine bliss when I see it.”
Ha!Joke’s on him. He could have been feeding me snail poop and I’d have had the same look on my face. The applesaredelicious, but the bliss I’m feeling has a lot more to do with him.
Perry jumps out again, grabbing two more apples like he did before. I could watch him do this all day.Apple. Knife. Slice. Repeat.You know. As long as he’s alsofeedingme the apples.
This time, he hands the apple slice to me, and a tiny pulse of disappointment fills my chest. But then he holds up a scolding finger. “Don’t eat that yet.”
I grin, not caring the tiniest bit that he’s bossing me around. This is Perry’s territory, and I’m happy to let him take the lead.
As he slices the second apple, I notice a scar on the back of his hand, running from the knuckle of his pointer finger past his thumb, nearly to his wrist. Without thinking, I reach out and trace my finger along the scar. “When did that happen?”
“The fourth grade,” he says easily—so easily I wonder if the touch impacted him the same way it did me. “Dad was teaching me how to use a pocketknife, and I got cocky.” He closes his knife and lifts his hand, flexing his fingers. “Thirteen stitches.” He takes the first apple slice back from me so he’s holding them both and lifts the first one to my lips. “Okay. Same drill. Eyes closed,” he says, in the sexy, commanding tone I’m beginning toreallylove. “It’s the first impression that matters the most.”
I take a bite, my lips brushing against his thumb.Focus on the fruit. Focus on the fruit. Focus on the fruit.
“Okay, this one is the mildest of the three I’ve tasted.” I open my eyes to see him studying me. “Almost no tartness. But it isn’t overly sweet either. It tastes like honey.”
“You’re good at this.” He pops the last half of the apple slice in his mouth. Like the two of us sharing food is no big deal. Like he has no idea how much he’s affecting me. How close I am to unraveling.
I grin. “Give me the last one.”
Perry lifts the last slice to my mouth. I keep my eyes open this time—a smart decision because watching him might be the most intoxicating part of this little game we’re playing. I immediately groan. “Oh. This one is my favorite.” I lift my hand to cover my lips as I chew.
Perry smiles. “I thought it might be.”
“What kind is it?” I reach over and grab the other half from his fingers, popping it into my mouth before he can eat it. Perry laughs before cutting another slice and handing it over.
“Mutsu,” he says. “It’s my favorite too.”
“Mutsu. I’ve never even heard of that one. What were the others?”
He uses the tip of his knife to point to the other three apples sitting on the dash of the Gator. “Cameo, Jonagold, Crimson Crisp.”
“Okay, so here’s a question for you, Mr. Apple Know-it-all,” I say. “Ifyouwere to close youreyes, and I made you taste these one by one, could you name them? Identify which is which?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”
“You sure you don’t mean apple-solutely?” I say through a smirk.
He shakes his head and folds his arms across his chest in a way that draws my eyes to his biceps. “Low-hanging fruit, Lila.”
I gasp. “THATwas low-hanging fruit!”
He only grins before shifting the Gator into drive and easing us forward. I slice up the rest of the Mutsu apple as we drive, handing a few slices to Perry, wishing it wouldn’t be awkwardfor me to feed him the same way he fed me. But I like this too. Eating in easy, comfortable silence.
Seeing Perry out here in the orchard, in control of his space, knowledgeable and passionate about his livelihood, it’s the last nudge I need to start falling.
Whether I think it’s a good idea or not.
Chapter Fourteen
