I laugh as I respond.
Me:You don’t miss me, Tag?
Tagger:I guess I don’t mind seeing that ugly mug around the ranch and kicking your ass in basketball.
Me:You kicking my ass in basketball isn’t a thing. Reverse that, and you’ve got facts.
Another message shows up before I can swallow a gulp of beer.Prove it.
The fucker is always so fucking competitive. I guess that’s why we’re such good friends. I text:Happy to. I’ll be back for the festival.
One last message from him pops up.See you on the court.
This is what I miss. I just didn’t realize it until I spent time there this past weekend.
I turn up the game, grinning like an idiot, and finish my noodles.
CHAPTER 12
Lauralee
“The Peach Festivalis just around the corner,” my mom says, coming into the shop like we’re continuing a conversation started on her drive over. I laugh to myself as I load fresh scones onto a tray in the display cabinet. She asks, “Do you mind calling Tagger to help get the decorations down from the attic at the house?”
“I can’t be calling him all the time. We can’t give him a honey-do list like he’s my husband.” Standing upright, I slide the door to the case closed, then lean on the counter to watch her fiddle with a display of peach-themed tea towels with our logo.
Her eyes meet mine over the top of the metal rack. “Chrissy won’t mind.”
“I do, though.” I keep my voice steady despite how I feel. “I can get the decorations down myself, Mom.”
“You’re never home anymore.”
Calling the apartment my home is tempting, but I’m notlooking to hurt her feelings. What should I call a place that feels more me lately than anywhere else, though?
Why the hell does Baylor come to mind?
I thought I’d shaken him out of my system, yet he manages to invade my thoughts every chance he gets. Figures. I roll my eyes for allowing it to happen, like at night when I’m alone and wanting to replicate the orgasm he gave me. It’s been fruitless, literally, but I refuse to be a quitter. Tonight is a new opportunity after all.
Though, admittedly, I couldn’t even look Chris in the eyes when she stopped in two days ago. If she knew what I imagined her brother doing to me, she’d disown me.
Lordy, I need professional help. I need to look up some tips and techniques on how to free my mind of intrusive thoughts of one of the most handsome men ever to walk the planet. He arrogantly owns my headspace like he owned my body that night. Goodness, he’s made a mess of my mind.
I can’t even make strawberry shortcakes anymore without his absence hitting me upside the head. All because of that nickname he seems to have adopted for me. And, secretly, I love it. It makes me feel special. That’s how desperate I’ve become for attention. I don’t know whether it’s sad or good that someone can make me feel so alive when we’re together. Bad. That’s what this is. I shouldn’t be feeling anything toward Baylor Greene other than casual acquaintance or friendship second removed at most.
He's in New York.
I’m here.
No use dwelling on the fact that it’s been two weeks since he was in Peachtree Pass, but I still feel the ghost of him haunting me in my day-to-day. It’s not fair to me or him, considering I’m the one who agreed he should go. That was for the best, so why am I mentally dragging him back intomy present like he should have stayed all along?Figuratively, of course.
“I’ll do it tonight after dinner.”
My mom comes behind the counter to inspect. She’s never critical of the changes I’ve made to the shop over the years. Just curious and more than happy to give advice. “The paper napkins with peaches on them would be a great upsell near the register for the festival. Have you started cleaning the ice cream cart that will be stationed on the festival grounds?”
The festival is the Super Bowl event for our small town. It’s the best time of the year around here. We’re busy and making money. But it’s also just a good time all around.
Dusting my hands off on my apron, I reply, “Already have the napkins stocked and ready to display. The cart is getting cleaned on Sunday. It’s the only time I have this week to do it, but I did hire two girls to run the cart for the festival's duration. They’re even making their own schedule. I will be approving the final hours.”
“Oh, that’s great.”
