Page 60 of Swept for Forever
I smirked. “Thanks.”
Something unspoken stretched between us. But before I could dissect it, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Hey, look. I still remember I owe you Mrs. Sutton’s glazed meatballs.”
I tilted my head. Meatballs? Really? A small part of me, mildly delusional, had wondered if he might show up with flowers. Maybe even a sorry.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I said coolly. “I barely remember.”
Dom squinted. “Uh-huh. That’s your ‘definitely remember, definitely hungry’ face.”
“I don’t have a face for that.”
“You do. You’re wearing it right now.” He paused. “Come on. Have lunch with me.”
I hesitated, and not for effect, though that was tempting. I was still trying to figure out how to exist around him and not remember how I’d leaned in last night, and how he hadn’t.
Not exactly the highlight reel.
I crossed my arms. “What, like a pity lunch?”
“A what?” He laughed. “You thinkI’mpityingyou? Autumn, I wouldn’t dare.”
“Could’ve brought me flowers.” I couldn’t help it.
He shrugged. “I thought about it. But I figured you’d toss the bouquet straight at my head.”
My mouth twitched. Rookie move, trying to out-banter an ex-lawyer who never walked into a room without a strategy.
I tried to recover, buying myself a second. “Fine. But only because of Mrs. Sutton’s meatballs. And because eating alone makes me sad and mysterious.”
“I’ll take it,” he said with a smug little smile. “But just so you know, I wasn’t planning to share.”
The momentwe stepped inside Mrs. Sutton’s harvest shop, I was hit with the scent of baked goods, warm honey, and fresh-cut herbs. Wooden crates overflowed with apples and plums, and a basket near the door held jars of buffaloberry preserves. A chalkboard menu listed the day’s specials, but my attention snagged on the glass display case lined with hand pies and golden pastries.
Behind the counter stood a woman with a crown of silver hair tucked into a clip. She smiled easily, wrapping up orders and chatting with customers.
She looked up and beamed. “Well, if it isn’t Dominic Powell. Four days in a row? That might be a record.”
Then her gaze slid to me, and her smile softened with recognition. “Ah, so this must be the young lady who needed the TLC.”
I shot Dom a look. He offered an innocent shrug, all too pleased with himself.
“The soup was lovely, Mrs. Sutton,” I said. “I’m Autumn. A friend of Dom’s.”
I glanced at Dom. Yep, he clocked thefriendlabel.
“Well, aren’t you just a picture,” she said, eyeing my crutch. “Feeling better, sweetheart?”
“Getting there. I’m mobile, and that’s a start,” I replied.
“Good to hear. You’ve got that strong look about you.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Now then, what can I get for you two?”
“Two orders of the glazed meatballs,” Dom said.
“Ah.” She nodded. “Starting with the good stuff. Would you like rice and pickled veg with those?”
“Wouldn’t say no,” he replied.
