“Well, you couldn’t have had them before, because they’re only grown here.”
“You mean they don’t exist anywhere else in the world?”
“Nope,” David said proudly. “They’re called Pike berries. My great-grandfather developed them over a hundred years ago. Took him a while, too. But they’re the pride and joy of Miller’s Cove, and we use them in damn near everything.”
“Lord,” Jeannie said, “don’t get him started. He’ll be rattling off Pike berry recipes like Bubba fromForrest Gump.”
“Pike berry pie, Pike berry wine, Pike berry jam,” Bubba replied with missing a beat. “Pike berry syrup, Pike berry salad, Pike berry punch…”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Kitanya patted his shoulder and rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a chuckle.
“Well, I’d love to know more.” Jasmine leaned forward.
“Well, I’d love to show you.” Eleanor beamed. “Anytime you want.”
“I’m gonna take you up on that.”
“And, Derek, anytime you want come poke around my workshop, my door’s always open.”
“You’re on, Chief,” I replied, unable to suppress the tinge of excitement in my voice.
We left dinner with full bellies, big smiles, plenty of leftovers, and some good bones for Tora to snack on.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jasmine
I was still grinning from ear to ear when the whistle from the kettle on the stove pierced the air, letting me know I was one step closer to a hot cup of tea and, more importantly, one step closer to biting into one of the cookies Eleanor had sent home with us. My mouth watered at the thought.
I poured the tea into two mugs, steam curling in delicate swirls as I carried them to the living room. Derek was sprawled on the couch, looking far too comfortable for someone who’d spent the evening poking fun at me. I handed him a mug and sank into the opposite end of the couch with a long, satisfied sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me sitting on your bed with my outside clothes on?” I teased, eyeing him over the rim of my mug. He laughed, shaking his head.
“I’ll allow it,” he said with mock graciousness, reaching for one of the cookies. He took a bite, his eyes widening slightly as he savored it.
“Right?” I grinned at him, feeling vindicated. He nodded in agreement before popping the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
I slipped off my heels and leaned back into the couch, wiggling my toes to restore circulation.
“Dogs are barking, huh?” Derek raised one eyebrow in amusement.
“A little, but I’m used to it,” I replied with a shrug. “These are actually my comfortable heels.”
“So those red indents are comfortable?”
“Shut up.” I laughed, giving him a playful shove. He straightened up, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and patted his thighs.
“Gimme those dawgs,” he said in a silly voice that made me giggle.
“What? No,” I protested, still laughing.
“You know you want a foot massage.” He raised an eyebrow. “That big toe looks like it has a heartbeat.”
I squealed with laughter, covering my face with one hand. “No!” I said when I finally caught my breath. “I don’t want things to get weird between us.”
“Weirder than us pretending to be married so we can compete for the same job?”
“Okay, facts,” I conceded, twisting on the couch to prop my feet in his lap. “But don’t think this changes anything between us,” I added, raising an eyebrow for emphasis.
