Page 62 of Lightning in a Mason Jar
“Note to self. You hate red beans and rice.”
“Ugh, stop. I’m going to gag.”
A smile pushed through. Man, he liked her spunk. “Well, I’m almost at your place, so you can tell me all about what Gia said. Or is she still there?”
“You should check your messages more often. I sent that text a half hour ago.”
“I’ll talk to my cell phone carrier,” he said, even though he already knew. He didn’t want to discuss the horrific details of the case he’d been investigating. He waited for her to answer, only just realizing how much he’d missed talking to her.
He kept driving. Toward her.
She cleared her throat. “Are you almost here?”
Thanks to breaking land speed records through the forest, yes. “Am I welcome?”
“I wouldn’t mind the company.” Her voice grew hesitant with an unusual vulnerability. “It’s been a really challenging day.”
“I’m turning into the drive now.”
As he steered the truck off the road, his tires crunched on the gravel that would lead to Winnie’s cabin. He soaked in the sight of Bailey Rae standing on the porch with Skeeter sitting beside her, leaning against her knee. Her legs stretched from her jean shorts, tan and long, and he wondered what band tee she wore today.
He stepped from the truck in the hot afternoon. “Are we having red beans and rice for supper?”
“No, sir. I made my award-winning pimento cheese. Winnie’s recipe, actually. Which you’re getting none of,” she said with a teasing smile, then swept an arm wide. “See, I’m totally okay and alone. The place is clear. But thank you all the same for coming so quickly. Kinda like a knight in shining armor.”
He strutted closer and propped a boot on the bottom step, taking in her Eagles T-shirt as well as the curves inside. “I feel confident you can slay your own dragons, but I’m happy to lend aid.”
She nodded toward the mud on his boots. “Did you encounter any of those dragons at work?”
Was that a hint of worry in her eyes? “Nothing worth noting. Just regular old wading through the swamp for a few hours.”
“Oh my, that sounds miserable. Come on into the air-conditioning.” She snapped for Skeeter and opened the cabin door.
“I won’t argue with you. I’ve even got a change of clothes in the truck,” he said as he jogged back to snag the T-shirt and jeans.
Once inside, Martin closed the door behind him before following her directions to the bathroom to change. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on him, or the ease in her offer and his acceptance.
“Are you hungry?” Her voice wafted through the door as he shucked his grungy uniform.
He was starving, hollow for her and food, but he didn’t want to pressure her on either front. “I carry snacks and drinks with me in the truck.”
“Snacks aren’t nearly enough,” she admonished. “I’ve had a change of heart about sharing my award-winning pimento cheese with you. I still have a loaf of homemade bread left for sandwiches. And hummingbird cake.”
“What’s hummingbird cake?” he asked, the flowery scent of her shampoo permeating the small bathroom now that he’d ditched his swampy clothes. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face.
Laughing, she answered, “Well, it’s not made of birds. I promise. We really need to work on your grasp of fine Southern cuisine.”
He tugged on his jeans and a game warden T-shirt, leaving his boots and uniform in the shower stall for now. He swung open the bathroom door and padded on bare feet through the living room toward the kitchen. “You still haven’t introduced me to chicken bog, so I’m not a hundred percent certain if you’re pulling my leg—”
Whoa. He stopped short at the sight. Papers littered the floor. Kitchen counters were covered in opened spices and baking goods.
Concern kicked right back into overdrive. “Did someone break in?”
“No. That’s all me, and it looks better than this morning,” she said, slicing into a loaf of bread. A Mason jar of pimento cheese rested on the edge of the cutting board. “I was looking for something, and the mess got a little out of hand.”
“A little?” The place looked like a tornado had hit. “Do you need help cleaning up?”
“I’ll just sweep it all away and put it in the dumpster.” She passed him the cutting board and nodded toward the kitchen table.
