Page 15 of Carly's Heart

“Pie? Mm. Any apple? Cherry? Maybe lemon meringue?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes, to all three.” Birch loved pie. She’d made all his favorites.

“Will you marry me, Carly Johnston?” He dropped to one knee and put his hands together in a prayer position.

Despite knowing he was joking, her heart sped up and her pulse raced. Heat flooded her cheeks. He was always goofing around and had no idea that she thought he was special.

“Don’t be a goofball. Get up and grab some pies.”

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, fair maiden. You wound me. I shall perish without your love.” He popped up like a jack-in-the-box and reached into the trunk. He scooped up one cookie sheet with two pies on it and passed it to her before grabbing the second pair of pies and gently closing the empty trunk. “Is that peach I smell?”

“It is. My grandmother’s recipe.”

“I’m drooling already.”

He waited for her to proceed him to the house and followed a few steps behind. For a fraction of a second, she almost swore she felt his gaze linger on her exposed legs.

Suddenly, she was way too hot, and not just from the weather. At thirty-five, she wasn’t a stranger to men looking at her. She knew she was pretty. But there was something about Birch’s mere presence that heated her up beyond all reason. But him looking at her, that way, was a crazy thought and figment of her imagination.

He joked with her like a sibling, and she knew he didn’t see her as anything beyond his annoying little sister’s best friend. It was a shame because she could really go for a guy like Birch.

♥♥♥

BIRCH FOLLOWED CARLY up the stairs. Lord, she was exquisite with her beautiful, dark-blonde waves. and long legs. He’d never get tired of looking at her. She was average height and a little on the curvy side, but dang, she had the best legs he’d seen ... ever. She was more amazing now than she was when he fell for her six years ago.

For six years he’d drooled after her, treating her like a pesky sister rather than the object of his fantasies. They had developed a sibling-like friendship. When her husband descended into drinking, she’d been devastated, but she’d stuck by Mike. He was proud of her for that. It was just a few months before Layla was born that she’d had enough and left Mike. He admired her courage for striking out on her own.

Something had shifted inside Birch when she started swelling with pregnancy. The first time he’d noticed her gently rounded tummy he felt like he’d tumbled down a cliff. He was breathless. Soon, he’d started dreaming that the baby was his.

Once Layla arrived, Carly became subdued around Birch. It was as if a wall went up between them. The joking and teasing stopped, and he’d learned to keep his distance because she seemed uncomfortable around him. Even now, two years after her divorce was final, he hadn’t figured out where their mostly comfortable friendship had gone, or why it vanished. Nor had he worked up the courage to ask her out. He was terrified she might turn him down. Better to dream than to have those dreams shattered. And Lord, did he dream.

They’d reached some sort of weird impasse and she didn’t seem to know Birch was alive, despite all the time he hung around his parents’ house when he should have been out working his horses.

She drew him like flowers drew a bee.

“These pies smell delicious,” he broke the long silence between them before it became even more uncomfortable.

“Thanks. I love baking. I hate cooking, but I love making sweets.”

“And I’m eternally grateful that you do. I can’t wait to dig in.” He reached around her and opened the screen door. “In you go.” He inhaled her fresh lemony-vanilla scent and arousal washed over him. Being near her was torture and bliss. “I’d marry you for your apple pies alone.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, something unidentifiable danced in her eyes.

His two younger brothers greeted them with excitement, probably more for the pies than anything else. Carly hugged Tanya, making Birch jealous of their closeness. She should be hugging him, not his sister.

“Carly, let me introduce you around.” She tugged Carly forward. “This is Mr. and Mrs.Romero, George’s parents.”

Birch stifled a frown at their superior smiles. They stared at Carly like she was beneath them and lacking somehow. They were snobs through and through and their son was no better. Frankly, he couldn’t see why his sister was attracted to her fiancé. He was stuffy and condescending. Perhaps she was blinded by his good looks. Birch adored his sister, and based on his first impressions, she deserved better than these pompous people.

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