8. Jace #2
“She isn’t wrong. It would ruin my summer if I missed out on those tarts,” Harper tosses out as I jog to catch up.
“Ms. Gregory only makes them for this festival. She claims it makes them more special. I say rubbish. In my opinion, it’s just her trying to make herself feel like a limited edition or something.
But I will play her game because they really are that good. ”
The line to the tart stand is already pretty long. Harper bounces on her feet, eyeing the crowd. “We should be good; she makes enough for the whole town.”
I nod my response, because I know if I open my mouth, I will start to laugh. Searching the crowd, I spot Blake, feeling only a little bad for ditching him. He sees us and begins making his way over with an easy smile on his face. “Ditching me for food, I see,” he calls.
“Yup! Harper, this is Blake, my foreman. Blake, this is Harper.” They shake hands before Blake starts looking around again.
“Is your friend around?” He continues to glance around. Harper grins, rolling her eyes at me.
“No, she’s actually manning our booth. You should go say hi. We’ll be closing up shop in an hour. Once the sun goes down, all the rides start, and less people will be milling around the booths.”
“Great, I’ll see if she needs help closing up.”
Harper leans in close as Blake makes his way through the crowd. “He will have to fight through the throngs of adoring Wren fans, but he’s cute, so he might just stand a chance at squiring her about tonight.”
Seeing an opening, I decide to show my hand and hope I don’t look like an idiot. “What about you? Any adoring fans or significant others going to be coming at me for treating you to a tart?”
She rolls her eyes at me, turning so we’re facing one another.
“First, a tart? That implies I’m only eating one.
I plan to stuff my face until my stomach hurts.
Two, no significant others, and bravo for smoothly sliding that into the conversation.
” The fact that she called me out like that takes me off guard in the best way. I’m a sucker for a girl with sass.
“So, how many tarts are we talking here?” We are next in line, and I intend to make sure I get to treat her.
“Hmmm, four to start, and two to take home.” Her eyes light up just as a gust of wind sweeps through the line, sending tendrils of hair across her face.
This time, I do reach down and brush them back, taking my time tucking it behind her ear.
The sharp intake of air from her goes straight to my core, knowing she’s just as affected as I am at this moment.
We’re frozen, staring at each other when a sharp clearing of someone's throat draws our attention.
The large woman behind the counter is staring down her nose at us.
“If you don’t mind, you’re holding up the line, Harper.” Her haughty tone has me instantly on edge. I step forward, ready to defend Harper, but am stopped by her hand on my arm, which the lady notices, and she narrows her eyes.
“My apologies, Jane.” Harper pats my arm maternally, flashing a winning smile at the woman. “You know I’m your number one fan, and looking at the selection, I’m betting these are your best tarts yet. I talked so much about them during the chair massage that he was begging to come and try one.”
Jane pauses, looking at Harper for a second as if gauging if she’s being serious.
Satisfied with whatever she sees, Jane's features soften and her lips turn up into a pleased smile. “Oh, well, I don’t know about all that, but I do love that you enjoy them, dear. My Thomas is learning to make them himself. You know, to carry on the family tradition and share with his future family.” The last two words have a little bite and are aimed straight at me.
I fight the grin I feel tugging at my mouth.
“I’ll take four for here, and two to go. Jace, how many do you want?”
“I’ll have the same.” Though, I’m eyeing the size of the tarts and wondering how the hell Harper consumes four in one setting.
As Jane packs our order, I step close, leaning into Harper and whisper, “Smooth,” so quietly only she can hear. She tosses me a quick wink then turns her attention back to the woman packing our bag.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harper rub her hands together, shimmying her hips. Damn, she really does like these tarts. Maybe I’ll save one for Blake in case he strikes out with her assistant. Our tarts are handed to us, and I step up, handing my card to the lady behind the counter.
“Jace, no. I’m paying for my own glutinous habits.” Ignoring Harper, I smile brightly at the woman with my card still out. She takes it, but the smile she had before has been replaced with a scowl.
“Want to find a place to sit, or do you plan to chow down while standing?”
Arching her brow, Harper points to a small table situated under a large oak tree. “Excuse me, sir.” Well, fuck, that’s hot rolling off her lips. “I will scarf my tarts sitting at a table like a lady, thank you very much.” Her little perfunctory nod makes my lips twitch.
We get settled and I hand her four tarts, leaving the packaged ones in the extra seat at our table. She doesn’t wait for me, just takes a massive bite. “Yum.” Her breathy moan captures my full attention. I have to force my mind away from what else might draw that sound out of her. “Soooo good!”
My tart is paused halfway to my mouth with my gaze trained on her face.
Eyes closed, totally blissed out, with the sexiest fucking moan on her lips.
Lips that have little specks of pastry on them.
Running my tongue over my lip, I imagine licking hers clean, then claiming that mouth with mine.
She takes another big bite, dancing in her seat, before she catches me staring.
“Jace, I swear, you better start eating instead of watching me or I’m leaving.” I make a show of taking a massive bite. The flavors of summer burst onto my tongue.
“Now I get all the moaning,” I groan out, loving the flush that creeps over her cheeks and down her neck before disappearing under that black skintight top. We’re both on our third tart when I catch Mrs. Strawberry Tart staring at us.
“So, what’s her deal?” I nod in the stand’s direction. She follows my gaze, then lets out a very loud laugh, spraying me with crust bits.
“Fuck me in the ass! I am so sorry!” she groans. I’m too gobsmacked by her remark to react. Before I can blink, she’s taking a napkin and cleaning me up.
“Harper, don’t worry, Blake does it to me weekly.
” I shoo her back to her seat while I discreetly adjust my hard cock, praying we stay seated long enough for it to go down before I need to stand.
Seriously, I have no clue what my deal is.
I’m like a teen in his first month of puberty with this girl.
“Gods above, surely I have hit my cap of embarrassing mishaps by this point.” Reaching for her hands that are now wringing themselves senseless, she freezes at my touch but doesn’t pull away.
But the fuck me in the ass comment was too much for my very overactive imagination today, and I can no longer resist touching her, even if it’s just her hands.
“Stop, it’s fine, really. And just so you know, I think all of it is pretty damn cute.” She drops her face and that sexy blush returns.