Chapter 31
Easton
The Holy Pig was one of those classic hometown favorites that you couldn’t help but miss when you moved away.
It was a strange little spot on a crowded corner between Wildwood Meadows and Alder Valley that had started as a food truck and evolved into a few extra pop-up tents, complete with some fire pits for good measure.
Typically, there was a nice line going and a crowd.
Now they’d built a few patios and put in some heaters, but it was still a little rustic. Their food was always killer.
“Crowded tonight,” she murmured, her voice a notch higher than usual. Her fingers fidgeted in the pockets of her raincoat. She froze, and her eyes darted over the crowd. She looked like she was one wrong noise away from bolting.
It was starting to be instinct now, watching her, reading the small tells she didn’t want anyone to notice. Lila had had a rough go the last few days. Hell, the last few weeks. Who would blame her if she didn’t want to face any gossip just yet?
“Then let’s not sit,” I offered, pulling her closer to me and feeling gratified when she relaxed a little. I should have thought ahead, but I was new to this whole dating scene.
Her eyes cut to mine, startled. “You mean leave? After you dragged me here for pulled pork?” She snorted a laugh. “It’s fine. I’m just jumpy.”
“Let’s just take it to go.” I shrugged my shoulders towards the counter in a half-suggestion.
The look she gave me could’ve scorched the neon pig sign above the bar. Then, as if the tension cracked just enough, her lips curved. “What, you scared I’d embarrass you?”
I leaned closer, voice low so only she could hear. “Sugar, you wouldn’t embarrass me if you wore that dinosaur suit again and danced on the counter. Although I’m partial to private shows only.” I gave her earlobe a tiny lick.
The sound that broke out of her was half laugh, half gasp. It was real, unguarded, and it lit the place brighter than any of the string lights overhead. She shook her head, muttering, “You did not just say that.”
I lifted a brow. “Look at my face and tell me I’m wrong.” Joking was the right path to take, because her eyes gleamed with interest. That spark I’d been missing most of the day was back.
“Interesting. I had no idea how much you liked the blow-up suit.”
“I like a costume.” I winked at her, enjoying the way a pink flush hit her cheeks.
The costume comment was a joke, but I could run with it.
Hell, if it was something she wanted to explore, I could go for a naughty nurse, or if she wanted me to dress up, I’d put on anything she wanted me to.
Stalker mask? Knight costume? Green light all the way.
I was willing to play. Giving her a squeeze, we stepped up to order.
We packed up brisket, pulled pork, cornbread, and beans, then stepped back into the cool night.
Rain misted against her hair, and she tucked herself closer to me.
Not as close as I’d like, but enough to feel she was protected.
I’d texted Wade earlier for a picture of Derek, but that was probably a long shot for who we were looking for.
Instead of pulling onto the road toward the farmhouse, I turned down the gravel lane toward the barn.
“This doesn’t look like Maggie’s kitchen.”
“It’ll be a little more private out here.” I cut the engine, grabbed the paper bags, and swung out of the truck. “Come on. Let me feed you.”
Lila smirked at me. “You aren’t my stalker, are you?” When I frowned at her, she laughed. “Too soon?”
“Come on, sugar.” I pulled her with me inside the barn, where it was warm with the lingering scent of hay and cedar. The night had chilled, but in here, it felt quiet, close.
I spread a plaid blanket over a stack of hay bales, set the bags down, and began unpacking the food, as if it were something I did all the time, instead of being my first date in fifteen years. This counted as a date, right?
She stood in the doorway, arms folded, watching me like she wasn’t sure if I’d lost my mind or if she should be impressed.
“Really?” she said finally. “A barn picnic?” My heart sank a little for a second before she added, “You’re surprising me, Easton Holt, in all the very best ways.
” She moved a little closer and took a seat on one of the bales, opening one of the Styrofoam containers and releasing the delicious smell of barbecue.
She moaned and closed her eyes, and it was all I could do to stay still across from her as the sound shot straight to my dick.
“Well, it’s private and warm. You needed to eat,” I ground out.
The barn was cozy. I’d always liked the feeling I got when I came in here.
Once upon a time, the Holt farm had run cattle, but that was decades ago, before we came along.
When we were kids, Levi and Maggie had kept animals, but only the usual things.
The most exotic things they’d had were some horses that we’d fought over like the wild things we were.
When I’d first arrived at the Holt, I’d thought all the animals were cool until I’d realized that they had to be fed at the crack ass of dawn and they pooped a ton.
“So, this is your big plan to impress me? Hay and pulled pork?” The sass was back in the tilt of her head.
I tore a piece of cornbread and set it on the napkin between us. “Careful, sugar. You keep that attitude, and I won’t share the cornbread.”
Her laughter filled the rafters, rich and full of surprise. She set her bag down and dropped onto the blanket, legs tucked under her. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ruthless,” I said again, the word that had already earned me that little eye roll I liked too much. “When I want something.”
She picked up her fork, smirking as she took a bite of pulled pork. The sauce clung to her lip, and before she wiped it away, she caught me watching. Heat flickered there, sharp and undeniable, before she laughed it off, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said softly.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking something you shouldn’t.”
I let my gaze linger, slow and steady. “Maybe I am thinking all sorts of things. I plan on doing them too.”
Her fork stilled, breath catching just enough that I knew she felt it too. But then she leaned back against the hay bale, lips curving. “Barn picnics and bossy. You’re full of surprises, Holt.”
“Stick around. You’ll get all sorts of good surprises.”
Silence stretched, comfortable and charged. Rain started to pitter-patter on the roof steadily, the food warm between us, her laughter still echoing in my chest. For the first time all day, her shoulders had eased, her eyes brighter.
“Not exactly candlelight and fine china,” I said, tugging the lid off my brisket platter. “But I hear good barbecue doesn’t need silverware.”
She smirked, and it caused something to tighten low in my gut. “When you asked me to dinner, I wasn’t expecting you to be angling for takeout and a barn. But I gotta say, I like your style.”
From anyone else, I might have thought it was a jab, but the way she was looking at me, I knew it wasn’t. This was Lila at her sexiest, and it made me fall a little deeper knowing that she didn’t mind camping out with me in this old barn.
“Tables are overrated,” I countered. “Besides, this barn is ours for tonight. No one’s going to interrupt.”
Lila’s eyes flicked up at that last line, and the tension seemed to rise a notch at the thought that we were alone.
We ate slowly, fingers brushing as she reached for cornbread, her laughter spilling when I accused her of stealing the best piece.
Every small touch lingered, stretched, as though the barn itself held its breath.
When she leaned back against the hay bale, legs crossed, the loose tendrils of her hair brushed her cheek, and I wanted nothing more than to reach out and tuck them behind her ear.
“Not terrible,” she admitted, licking sauce from her thumb. The sight nearly undid me. I loved watching her eat. It was definitely a turn-on for me. I wouldn’t mind that tongue of hers somewhere else.
“High praise,” I said, my voice rougher than intended.
She tilted her head, studying me with that sharp, unflinching look she had when she caught me off guard. “You don’t do this, do you? Picnics in barns. Watching a woman lick barbecue sauce off her fingers like it’s going to kill you.”
“No,” I said, truth rolling out bare and unvarnished. “I don’t. I wasn’t joking when I said I don’t do relationships. Dates. Ever,” I answered solemnly.
The silence stretched again, charged and humming.
We’d cleared away the food and set out the blanket so we could sit beside each other to enjoy the banana pudding cups we’d gotten.
They didn’t really go with the beer, but she leaned on her elbow while she watched me under her lashes, spooning up dessert into her mouth, and I was captivated.
“Can you tell me why?” she asked.
“Why I haven’t been in relationships?” She nodded, and my hand moved instinctively before thought caught up, brushing that stray lock of hair back.
Her skin was warm under my knuckles, soft.
It was already becoming one of my favorite things.
“My life before the Holts was pretty shit. My dad took off when I was little. I know you understand that.” I swallowed hard.
People had often asked me about my childhood. Lila wasn’t asking specifically about that. She wanted the ‘why’, which was an even bigger question. The thing about Lila, and I thought one of the things that drew me to her, was how she understood parents taking off on you. She got that.