7 Cora #4
Blueberry pie had been her mom’s specialty, and not a Fourth of July went by without Julie Prestly making her famous dish.
Of course, she also made it for special occasions or a fun summer treat, but blueberry pie was a staple at the beach house
on Fourth of July. Which meant it was the official food of the time when life was perfect.
The memories hit her right in the feels, the good ones and the painful ones and the still-tender ones. And the thing was,
Cora didn’t do feels. Messy and emotional weren’t really her things. She preferred things neat and tidy and controlled. Safe.
And that went double for when she was on a first date.
So naturally, when the ache started to grow under her rib cage and the lump formed in her throat, she pushed them away and
tried to focus on something else. Anything else. The design on the plates. The happy chatter that filled the room. The hypnotic
nature of Jax’s gorgeous smile.
Okay, definitely not that last one, because falling under his spell was the opposite of tidy and controlled. Perhaps it was best to avoid looking at it directly. Kind of like Kaa in The Jungle Book .
She drew in a deep breath and focused on plating two perfect pieces of her pie. Jax did the same until each plate held two
almost identical slices.
“The moment of truth.” Jax picked up his plate and fork.
She stared at the two pieces on her plate, trying to decide if they should start with his or hers when another annoying emotion
zipped through her.
Nervousness.
She wasn’t feeling the fluttery kind of nerves that went with excitement. She was feeling the cold kind, the kind more closely
related to anxiety or the fear of not measuring up.
It was dumb, of course, because who cared if her pie wasn’t better than Jax’s? It wasn’t like this was her recipe or she had
used her special methods. They had followed the directions of the cooking class. If anyone were to blame for the pies not
turning out well, it would be Chef Gracie.
Besides, what did it even matter? The prize was getting to go on another date with the most arrogant, ridiculous man she’d
ever met—even if he did have a good smile and great eyes. And, fine, she could also admit that he was slightly entertaining,
in an annoying, self-righteous way.
Anyway, the point was she didn’t even want to go out with him. The whole reason she wanted a second date with him was to prove
to her sister that he was a jerk who would promise the moon, then hit the road as soon as things got tough. She had absolutely
nothing to lose here, even if her pie happened to be inedible.
Although if the mouthwatering scents drifting up from her plate were any indication, both pies were far from inedible.
“Ladies first,” Jax said. His fork hovered over the slice of her pie.
“Prepare to be wowed.” She pushed the nerves deep down inside next to all the other unwanted emotions and plunged her fork
into the pie. Keeping her gaze locked with Jax’s, she took a bite.
If the scent of the pie made her nostalgic, the flavor bomb that went off when the pie hit her tongue doubled as a time machine.
The pie was sweet and bright and tasted like the goodness of summer.
She closed her eyes as she was instantly transported back to her childhood.
Suddenly she was a kid again, on the back deck on a warm summer night, laughing and lighting sparklers.
They were sweet memories of a time when life was happy and less complicated.
But this time, before she could let the happy memories of the past conjure up any other feelings, she forced her eyes open
and focused on the bet that was standing in front of her.
Jax was smiling at her. “I’m no expert,” he said through a mouthful. “But that crust sets the bar pretty high.”
“Buttery, flaky, not at all soggy.” She listed off the attributes with a smug grin.
His eyes met hers in a way that stirred up other familiar unwanted feelings. “Perfection.”
He held her gaze, and she couldn’t help but feel adored. She blamed the annoying phenomenon on all the other rogue emotions
floating through her.
She quickly looked down to retake control of her thoughts. Of course he would try to flatter her. He didn’t get the reputation
for being a heartbreaker on accident.
She moved to his slice of pie. This time, she cut off a bite that had more crust than blueberries, so she could judge his
“perfection” promise more easily.
Also, she didn’t have any childhood memories connected with the piecrust on its own. It seemed like a safer zone to stay in
while she was trying to get her feels back in check.
With the ideal bite on her fork, she held it up. “Any last words before we dive in?”
He held up his own forkful of pie. “Cheers.”
As expected, his pie tasted almost identical to hers. Chef Gracie’s recipe was divine. But this time instead of being caught
off guard by a flood of feelings, she was able to focus on his crust.
She had to admit it was good. Maybe even better than good, although she would never say that to him. He didn’t need any more compliments puffing up that pretty little head of his.
“Not bad for a first-timer,” she said.
“As promised, I do not disappoint.” He had a sort of boyish excitement to him that made him seem authentic and playful, though
she got the feeling he was talking less about his crust and more about their time together.
She was surprised to admit it, but she agreed. The date had been... fun.
“You know what this pie really needs?” Jax continued. “Ice cream.” He grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer and popped
off the lid. “For you?” He offered, holding up the ice cream scoop.
“I’ll pass, thank you.” She took another bite of her perfectly plain pie.
He scooped out one perfectly round scoop and plopped it in the center of the two slices on his plate. “Not an ice cream fan?”
“On the contrary. I love ice cream. Actually, it’s my favorite dessert. I just don’t like it on blueberry pie.”
“Well, then, that settles it.” He shoved a giant bite of pie and ice cream into his mouth.
“Settles what?”
It took him a second to swallow his bite before he could answer. “Our next date.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We’ll
have to get ice cream. Or, maybe another contest to see who makes it best?”
A slight victory grin tugged at the corner of her mouth because she’d done it. She’d gotten a second date, which meant she
had practically already won the bet with her sisters. No way was this Casanova sticking around longer than a week. She pretty
much had Chef Gracie’s guarantee on that.
“Two things. First,” she said, as she held up one finger, “no one in this town makes better ice cream than Miss Mary. It’s
a proven fact. We don’t even have to debate it.”
He bobbed his head back and forth as if weighing the merit of her statement before giving a slight shrug of agreement.
“And two.” She held up a second finger. “Don’t assume. If you want a second date with me, you’re going to have to ask.”
He took another bite of pie. Her pie. Which she knew he did to flatter her, but still, she couldn’t help but feel flattered. Dumb rogue emotions.
Then he did something that caught her off guard. He looked at her with more sincerity than she’d seen all night.
“I really enjoyed tonight. I’d like to see you again.”
“Me, too.” The authentic answer popped out of her mouth before she’d given it permission to. What was happening to her?
Sure, going on a second date was part of her plan, so technically it was a no-brainer. But she at least should’ve considered
it first. It was a date with him , after all.
She blamed it on the pie.
“How about Friday? Are you free?”
She at least managed to stop herself before an automatic agreement came flying out of her mouth.
“I’ll check my schedule.” She even finished it off with a nonchalant little shrug.
Only this time, she’d make sure they didn’t go anywhere near blueberry pie. She didn’t need any more rogue emotions as she
entered into Phase Two of her plan.