Page 31 of The Heart Shot
So worth it, Smitten Elsie concurred.
The carving had taken the better part of an hour, and with the sun almost below the horizon, I figured that meant our date was over. Smitten Elsie was a little too happy that Jameson seemed to be prolonging the night.
“Watching you work was exhausting,” he teased in return. He smirked bringing the butterflies in my stomach back to life.
“Cider sounds great,” I said, unable to keep a small smile from my face.
Jameson’s shoulders loosened a fraction, and he nodded toward the little shop. We walked in a strangely comfortable silence; it was somehow not awkward the way first date silence should have been. The red door loomed in front of us, and I fully expected him to drop the door on me—like Ben always had—but he paused, holding it open with a smile. I ignored the stutter of my heart, determined not to swoon over something so simple. I murmured a thank you and walked inside, instantly overwhelmed by the mingling scents of apple pie and cinnamon sugar.
It was a quaint store with three aisles stocked full of baked goods ranging from pumpkin and apple pies to little apple donuts and other seasonal pastries. I made a mental note to grab a carton of donuts before I left.
The shop was empty aside from a lady wearing denim overalls with her silver hair tied up in a bun. She stood at the register in the corner, a little notepad and pen in hand as she scribbled something down. There was a fridge on the right full of jugs of cider and other beverages.
Jameson’s hand skimmed across my low back, sending a shiver through me. I hoped he missed it; I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression, especially since I couldn’t stop flinching every time we touched. It was electric—his touch.
He grabbed a cup and filled it before handing me the steaming apple goodness. Once he had filled his own, I crossed the store to pay for mine. The old lady beamed at me, her nose scrunching when I tried to hand her a few dollar bills.
She shook her head, that smile still plastered on her face. “It’s on the house, my dear.”
“Oh no, I can’t take it for free.”
Jameson’s fingers touched my arm, lowering the money to my side. “Thanks Aunt Jo, we appreciate it.” His hand returned to my lower back as he herded me outside.
Aunt?
I threw a confused look over my shoulder, but the lady only smiled as if I were God’s gift to the Earth. I wanted to turn back, to leave the money on the counter, but Jameson’s chuckle stopped me.
“She’ll only be offended if you keep trying to pay her.”
I arched my brow, reluctantly putting the cash back in my pocket once we were outside. “Why? She put work into that, so why wouldn’t I pay her?”
“Because she’s my family,” he replied simply.
His dimples made a spectacular reappearance as he pointed to himself. “Jameson Beck.” Then he pointed at the sign over the entrance. “As in Beck’s Pumpkins. My grandparents built this place. Aunt Jo is my dad’s sister, and she runs the patch now.”
Oh.
Well, that explained the look she’d given me.
“Do you bring a lot of girls here, then?” The words were out of my mouth before I could filter them. I didn’t want to know the answer, didn’t want to know how many girls Jameson had brought here on dates—or how common that made me.
Jameson smirked, as if he knew the direction of my thoughts. “Nope, you’re the first.”
With his unexpected confession, my entire body flushed with heat.
Ooh! You’re the first girl he’s brought to the family patch!Smitten Elsie squealed, and I mentally shushed her.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t date much, so you can imagine my aunt’s excitement when I showed up with you.”
“But why is it so exciting that you brought me? It’s just a first date.” I laughed uncomfortably. “It’s not like we’re serious or anything.”
A strange emotion crossed his face, too quick for me to decipher. “You know how family is.”
I nodded, holding back a wince. I knew how family wassupposedto be, but I couldn’t say mine was like that. I wasn’t about to tell Jameson that, though. He didn’t want or need to know about my family issues.
We continued across the field, a weighted silence falling between us. Thanks to the loss of daylight, the pumpkin patch was deserted aside from us, leaving the hayride utterly empty. Holding out his hand, Jameson helped me climb the steps into the wagon before following and sitting next to me.
His thigh brushed against mine, and heat shot up my leg. I didn’t know why my body reacted so strongly to a simple, accidental touch, but there was no way I’d be able to keep a clear mind if it continued. Needing more distance between us, I scooted a few inches away.
