Page 18 of Sweet and Salty
I sniff one experimentally. It smells like heaven met almonds and they had a floral, citrusy baby. It tastes better.
“Holy shit, these are delicious.”
She turns to me, her eyes wide and her mouth in a huge grin. “I can’t believe you ate our bait!”
“I had to try it. If it’s terrible, Edward will never come home.”
Laughing, she hits my shoulder playfully, and the contact sends a jarring zing through my whole body. Her body shakes slightly and she catches my gaze. Her eyes are a kaleidoscope of green hues, each playing against the other. Laura Marshall is definitely lovely.
The moment stretches between us, and I unconsciously take a step toward her.
Then a rustling sound in the undergrowth of the trees separates us. Laura reacts first, grabbing another muffin from the basket I’m holding. “Edward,” she croons, scattering crumbs in an arc around herself. “Is that you? Come on out, sweetheart.”
A black-and-white piebald pig waddles out of the tree line, snuffling for the muffin bits.
“See?” I whisper, not wanting to startle the pig and send him running again. “Your muffins are magic. They’re total pig bait.”
She snorts and shoves a hand over her mouth to hold in the laugh, but I can’t help myself. I like Laura’s laugh. It’s the only thing that has made me smile in a very, very, very long time.
“I mean,” I say, leaning in close enough to catch her intoxicating smell of almonds and roses. “You could put that on your sign in the bakery: Get Your Pig Bait Here.”
That is far too much for her. She collapses into giggles beside me, her shoulders shaking, and, glory of glories, she hits me again. Pleasure blooms through me. Chasing pigs isn’t usually an enjoyable business, but I’m definitely enjoying this.
Then my heart stops. Being a man with a medical background, I hadn’t thought it possible, but there it is.
Laura Marshall is model-gorgeous when she laughs. Her hair slips from her bun, cascading in rich brown waves over her shoulders. Her cheeks are pink and she laughs with her entire body, her shoulders, tits, and stomach undulating with glee.
It’s a beautiful thing to see.
Then a cold pig snout pushes into my hand, breaking my concentration. “Hi, Edward.”
That damned pig sure knows how to make a nuisance of himself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Laura
That darned pig.I ought to have named him Bacon, the little nuisance. Okay, he weighs about two hundred pounds so there’s no world in which he could be called little. Still. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be covered in mud and have made a fool of myself in front of Hot Salt-and-Pepper Jesse. Of all the days to sleep in and walk downstairs in my pajamas. Why can’t I be one of those heroines who wakes up already in full makeup with her hair curled?
The early morning concussion hasn’t harmed Jesse a single iota. Even with the knob blooming on his forehead, he looks even more handsome than I remember. How on earth did he get that ring light so quickly? The hardware store never gets deliveries overnight. It’s surprisingly sweet.
Jesse and I manage to wrangle Edward back into the pen with a minimum of caterwauling, which is a direct contrast to what I’ve previously experienced when one of the pigs escapes. It’s like Jesse has a special touch with the animals, one that’s even more abundantly clear when Einstein runs directly up tohim and doesn’t seem to want to leave his side. Traitor. He only does that for me when I make the homemade peanut butter biscuits he likes.
It’s certainly jealousy that coils in my heart. Nothing else.
I lock the pen and Jesse fills the feed bins.
“You’re aTwilightfan?” he asks, scratching Bella’s ears. She grunts little porcine grunts into his hand.
My ovaries twitch. “I’m not. She will never admit it, but my sister Frannie was a hugeTwilightfan. Like posters and fan fic and hearts-on-her-notebook level fandom.”
His mouth curves into a half-smile, which is possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen or I’m massively under-caffeinated. Either way, swoon territory. “She won’t admit it now?”
I push past him and clamber the fence. “You’d understand if you knew Frannie.”
“She can’t be more of a badass than you.” He follows me over the fence. “Hey, I’m sorry about the time. I’d better let you get ready for work and everything. Thanks for having me.”
I bark a laugh and hide it by opening the kitchen door. “I banged you in the head, fed you stale muffins, and made you chase a pig, all before seven in the morning. I never even finished making you coffee.”