“So,” he began, wiping his hands on a rag, “how are you and Jasmine settling in?”
“We’re loving it… actually,” I said carefully. “But small-town life is a big change.”
David nodded knowingly. “It’s not for everyone, but Miller’s Cove grows on you. And the people here? They’ll look out for you.”
“Good to know,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be around to appreciate it.
David leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Speaking of which,there’s a big firefighters’ picnic this Sunday. You and Jasmine should come.”
“Firefighters’ picnic?” I repeated.
“It’s a tradition. The only event bigger is the Founders’ Day picnic. It’s a chance for everyone to let loose, eat good food, and show appreciation for the firefighters. They’re practically royalty around here.”
“Sounds… fun.” I wasn’t entirely convinced.
“It is,” David insisted. “And it’s a great way to meet people. Plus, there’s a three-legged race. You and Jasmine would kill it.”
The thought of being tied to Jasmine in front of half the town was not as appealing as he seemed to think, but I nodded anyway. “We’ll be there.”
“Good man.” David clapped me on the back. “Now, let’s finish this batch before Eleanor comes back and yells at us for slacking.”
Just as we were wrapping up for lunch, Eleanor returned, a tray of freshly baked muffins in hand.
“I thought you two might be hungry.” She set the tray on a nearby barrel.
David grabbed one immediately, biting into it with a satisfied groan. “You’re a saint, baby.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
I took a muffin and bit into it, surprised by how good it was. “Wow. This is amazing.”
“Secret recipe.” Eleanor winked. “Passed down from John William Pike himself.”
“Wait, your great-grandfather invented muffins, too?” I asked, half joking.
David laughed. “No, but he did grow the wheat for them. Everything in Miller’s Cove comes full circle.”
As we sat there, eating muffins and listening to the sound of the waterwheel, I found myself relaxing for the first time in weeks. Maybe it was the fresh air, or the sense of history, or the fact that David and Eleanor treated me like family despite barely knowing me.
Whatever it was, I couldn’t deny it: Miller’s Cove was starting to grow on me.
And with the firefighters’ picnic looming, I had a feeling things were about to get even more interesting.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jasmine
Is that what you’re wearing to the picnic?” Derek asked me with a raised eyebrow. I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood for his nonsense this morning. I wasn’t getting any further in the research for my project, and my plan to keep my feelings for him in check were failing miserably.
Plus, he was as annoying as ever. I heaved a deep sigh and whipped around to face him. Derek was wearing a powder-blue polo shirt and pair of khaki-colored shorts that ended in the middle of his golden-brown, exquisitely toned thighs. And of course, the shorts were perfectly tailored. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
“This is a tennis dress.” I smoothed my palms over the skirt before glaring at him. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, but we are going to a firefighters’ picnic. We wouldn’t want you unintentionally starting any fires.”
“Why, husband”—I dramatically pressed one of my palms into my chest—“that isn’t jealousy I hear in your voice, is it?”
“Not at all, wife.” He averted his eyes and turned his attention to Tora, bending down to scratch behind his ear, causing his shorts to expose more of his muscular thighs. “I wouldn’t want you to accidentally flash anyone and cause a heart attack.”
