10. Cora
10
CORA
“ I sn’t that…” Aspen whispers as she looks out at the line and back at me.
Sighing, I nod as we move around each other inside the truck, filling orders, taking money, and otherwise selling out of almost everything watermelon on the menu. I’d gloat about that later over a glass of wine in my kitchen.
Right now, I have to ignore the way my body seems to come alive with Talon in such close proximity. It is so much easier to hate him sans pig or, in this case, when he isn’t holding the adorable curly-haired little girl I’ve seen with Talon’s sister since I moved back.
They whisper and giggle, and it is impossible not to be affected by the stupidly good-looking man I am trying so hard to hate.
“You don’t have to hate him, you know,” Aspen murmurs as she moves past me to hand a to-go bag to a tourist. The man drops a few dollars in the tip jar and waves as he takes off down the path.
“ I hate him therefore we hate him,” I growl, but it holds a lot less oomph than I’d like it to.
“I will not be hating him when he’s holding that little girl. Do you see her? I mean, I don’t know if I even want kids, but she’s impossible not to love on sight.”
I nod but don’t say anything because I hate the way my heart pounds faster, the closer they get to the window.
“Would it be obvious if I took a coffee break?”
“Don’t even think about it.” Aspen glares at me, and I steel myself for the inevitable as Talon and Navy step up.
“Hi!” Navy shouts as she thrusts a pink peony toward me, the bottom wrapped in tinfoil like they’d cut it from their yard to bring.
“Can I help you?” Aspen says, and I realize belatedly that she’s talking to whoever is behind my nemesis and his niece.
“Is this for me?” I ask, taking the flower from her little outstretched hand and trying to ignore the way warmth floods through my chest.
“Yes! We wanna be friends!” She beams as she wiggles in Talon’s arms.
“I would love to be your friend,” I say, keeping my focus on Navy.
“And Uncle’s too?” she asks hopefully, and I try my best not to glare at the bastard as his lips twitch. His dreamy blue eyes widen the slightest bit, as if to remind me of the unanswered question.
If he thinks this is going to get him back into my good graces, it’s not.
Seriously.
Aspen snickers, mumbling, you definitely want to be his friend as she grabs the fresh salsa from the cooler.
“Can I think about it?” I ask Navy, who stares at me seriously then nods as Talon’s lips press into a thin line and Aspen cackles beside me. “Do you know what you’d like?”
Navy rattles off her horribly mispronounced quesadilla order, and I can’t help the way my eyes linger on Talon, his lips curving up at the corners as he watches her.
“Can I get a cookie?” she asks, pressing her forehead to his, and I have to wonder if he ever says no to her. I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to. Talon’s sister had been a few years ahead of me in school, and even though I’d been gone a while, I hadn’t missed the news of her husband’s tragic passing.
I wasn’t close enough to ask about it, but I still felt compelled to do something for her. Sometimes that meant sliding her a discount, and sometimes that meant throwing an extra cookie in the bag for the little angel baby in front of me.
“Mama wants us to bring home watermelon sorbet too, right?” Talon says, tickling her side and making her giggle.
“Good thing I picked up extra watermelons so I can make the sorbet, isn’t it,” I snark even though I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Talon’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he turns toward me.
“It’s real good, Cora. Delicious, in fact.” He says the words, the innuendo plain in his tone even though his eyes never stray from mine. I suppress the shiver that races down my spine and grab a cookie in the case behind me and place it into a little bag that I hand to Navy.
“Lunch first,” I tell her, and she nods enthusiastically as she clutches the treat to her chest. “And for you?”
Talon looks at the menu behind me, finally deciding on the pulled pork and spicy slaw sandwich with homemade pickles, a water for Navy, and a sweet tea.
“Can I put something in for my sister to go when we’re done?” he asks as he pulls his wallet from his pocket and hands it to Navy.
“Sure.”
I add it to the order—sans cookie—and watch with fascination as the little girl pulls a card from his wallet and taps it on the screen to pay. He signs quickly as she holds up a five-dollar bill. He shakes his head and she puts it back, her tongue peeking out as she concentrates.
“This?” she asks, holding up a ten, and he nods. She beams, and he slides over so she can drop it in the tip jar.
The entire exchange is fascinating.
And begrudgingly, I’m a little turned on.
Talon Banks is the definition of dirty, sexy mechanic with his big muscles and undoubtedly rough hands. But he’s also sweet and tender, the adoration for his niece on full display, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that while this little show was for me, it also wasn’t.
He loves her and he’s stepped up to be there for her and Bristol.
It’s admirable.
Sexy as hell.
But it also doesn’t change the way my stomach dips every time I see him, and not in a good way, the past impossible to erase no matter how much I think I should get over it.
“It will be up in just a minute,” I say, choosing to push down the emotions and focus on the job at hand.
“Thank you.” Talon’s gaze holds mine for a beat longer, the sincerity in those two words making it seem like we’re talking about more than just a lunch order.
Navy wiggles in his arms, and like a spell being broken, he turns and sets her down, his hand swallowing hers as they walk toward a shaded bench to wait.
“Well, it looks like y’all are gonna be a hell of a lot more than friends if that keeps up,” Aspen says with a hip against the counter.
“There’s nothing going on,” I hiss but don’t dare look at her because from the moment we met, she seemed to know me better than I know myself.
“All right,” she says a little too easily, and just when I think she’s gonna drop it, she adds, “but I can’t wait to say I told you so.”
Heart beating a little faster, I finish the order and then watch them for a minute, Aspen’s words echoing in my head. It’s a bad idea, but part of me hopes she’s right.