Page 37 of Pure Seduction (Chamberlin Brothers 1)

“That’s okay, I don’t mind, and good morning to you.”

I placed the tray on the table, and when she hurried off into the kitchen, I followed, ready to lend a helping hand. I pushed through the door and stepped inside, and the sight that greeted me was impressive, to say the least.

There must’ve been over a hundred muffins around the large kitchen. There were some in Tupperware containers, some in baskets, some on cooling racks, and some still in trays.

Willa grabbed one of the baskets on the end of the counter and whirled back around, barely missing running right into me. “Oops.” She laughed and then waved a hand behind her. “Ignore all of this. I make muffins on Sundays for the town, and, well, you’re the only guest here right now, and time got away from me.”

I took the basket she was holding. “You make muffins for the entire town?”

Willa glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “Give or take a few. We have our local Sunday baseball match.”

“That’s right. I remember those. They still have them, huh?”

“They sure do. Rain, hail, or shine. I often think that missing Sunday baseball in Chamberlin is a far greater sin than missing church.”

I laughed, remembering the extreme competitiveness of the locals. “I think you might be right.”

Willa grinned and cocked her head to the side. “Do you play?”

I did. I’d actually played on my high school team for years, but she didn’t need to know that. “I might.”

“Then you should come.”

No way. The idea of being surrounded by the whole town so soon after last weekend didn’t sound appealing at all. “I was going to head out to the winery this morning. Get a jump-start on the day.”

“Oh, come on. The winery doesn’t open until noon on Sunday, and you don’t have to be there—you have staff for that. Even Ryan takes a couple of hours for baseball.”

“He does? Ryan always hated baseball.”

“Really?” Willa scrunched her nose up. “Huh, he always helps me bring over the muffins and then stays for the game. He’s really good. You should come and see.”

As I mulled over it a little more, Willa added, “Laurel will be there.”

My lips twitched as I looked at my current landlord. “And why do you think that would matter?”

Willa crossed her arms and rested against the end of the kitchen counter. “Because you have a thing for her.”

“A thing?”

“You know what I mean. You like her. Admit it.”

“I don’t remember ever saying that I didn’t. Of course I like Laurel. She’s a great girl.”

“Uh huh.” Willa shoved away from the counter and walked over to the oven where a timer had just gone off.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What does uh huh mean?”

She pulled two more trays of muffins from the oven and turned back to face me. “It means she’s not a girl anymore, and you know it. You were all over her last night, and this Mr. Cool act? I don’t buy it for a second. You like her. Admit it.”

I knew the way small towns worked: you told one person something, and ten minutes later a hundred different variations on what you’d originally said was being whispered in eager ears. But something about Willa told me that whatever I said right now would stay between me, her, and the hundred and one muffins surrounding us.

“Okay, I admit it. I like her—a lot. But every time I’m near her, all I want to do is kiss her, which is kind of problematic in a town that likes to talk.”

“It wasn’t problematic last night…”

“No one was here last night.”

“I was.”

I wondered just how much Laurel had told her. Then a mischievous grin split Willa’s lips.

“This is exactly why you have to come to the game today. Then you can decide if whatever sparked last night between you two is still, you know, there.”

“All right. You win. What time does it start?”

“Twelve thirty. Why don’t you meet me and Ryan down here and we can all go together?”

“Sounds good.” I gestured to the basket of muffins I held. “Mind if I take one of these to tide me over until the game?”

“Go ahead.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll grab a juice and then bring the tray back in here for you. I only need the one glass.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

I looked at the chaos surrounding us. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’ll see you down here at…twelve fifteen?”

“Perfect.”

Willa went back to her muffins as I headed out into the dining room, and I couldn’t help but think about getting Laurel alone somewhere at this game and working out a way to convince her to go to dinner with me.

Baseball had been our thing. I’d play; she’d cheer. It seemed like the perfect trip down memory lane to warm her to me—right?

---