Page 6 of A Cowboy Sugar Cookie Kiss
Well played, Maggie. My sweet, sexy Maggie.
Betty mumbles a smallyesand my grandfather a lowfine.
“No hitting, punching, or touching. With fists or other doohickeys,” I clarify.
“Such as canes, chairs and glasses,” my granddad adds.
Maggie tilts her head at her grandmother and whispers, “Did you hit him with a chair?”
Betty crosses her arms over the front of her blue dress and looks away. “It was a folding chair.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” Maggie pronounces each word slow, clear, and concise.
“I promise not to throw chairs at Fred. But he has to promise not to accuse me of stealing his recipe. It’s hogwash.”
“Hogwash.” My granddad rustles beside me. “She could start an argument in an empty house.”
“Granddad?” I dig my fingers into the old man’s shoulders. “Can you spend a few days not accusing Mrs. Hill of stealing your recipe?”
My granddad’s lips form a straight thin line.
“Granddad?”
“Fine, I promise.”
“Oh, bless your heart,” Betty mocks.
“No, bless your heart,” Granddad shoots back.
“Oh lord, everyone bless everyone’s hearts.” Sadie pushes off a rock she’s been leaning on. “Show us our rooms already so we can unpack, freshen up, have that tour, and then hit the bar.”
I could use a drink. A nice stiff drink.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d tell you two to get a room,” Sadie says to our grandparents.
She knows better.
We all know better.
But I don’t miss the exchange between the Quylt sisters. What are the local busybodies up too?
“The Fox family has graciously contributed two suites. This way.” Wilma guides us out of the lobby and to the elevator.
Faye loops her arm in my granddads, asking him about the ranch. Betty and Sadie follow behind. That leaves Maggie to walk beside me. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.
Her familiar scent teases my nostrils. Sweet almond blended with her womanly fragrance. A fragrance that drives me wild inside. I’d never admit it, but I feel like a giddy boy walking the school halls beside a girl I’m crushing on. And I’m crushing hard on Maggie.
“We’re going to have to keep a close eye on these two.” I try a casual, friendly approach.
Her gaze twists to my direction. “If you make one more peeping Tom joke I’ll throw a chair at you.”
I smirk, holding back my laughter.
“It’s not funny. You’re not funny.” She takes a deep breath and stares straight ahead.
“All joking aside, should we discuss the last time we were together—”
She steps into my path. I halt, almost toppling over top of her. Not that I’m against getting close and personal with this woman. In fact, I’m hoping that’s exactly the direction we are headed. And I look forward to it.
