Page 81 of Love’s Silver Bullet

He paused to study her from behind, amazed at how much she had changed in just six month. Her flaxen hair—usually trailing her shoulders—was now swept up on her head in a riot of curls, exposing a creamy neck that called to his lips, begging for a single touch of that silken skin. A cornflower-blue calico dress the color of her eyes hugged a tiny waist before flowing into gentle curves that proved she was no longer that little girl he so longed to protect.

Shaking the attraction off, he cleared his throat, the need to “protect” still foremost in his mind. “I came to help.”

She whirled around with the knife in hand, and he grinned outright as he took a step back with both palms in the air. “Or I can leave.”

She giggled, and the sound warmed his heart just like it did the first time he ever saw her at the age of four, peeking out from behind Finn’s trousers when Blaze first brought him home. “No, stay—please.” Stepping aside, she waved a hand at the remaining four lemons on the cutting board with a sparkle in those blue, blue eyes. “I could definitely use a little brawn right about now, Mr. Sullivan, so wash your hands, and squeeze away.”

Already am, he thought as he cranked the pump hard, annoyed at the way his heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of ever hurting this girl that he loved.

No. He swallowed hard. This woman he loved, he was finally willing to admit, scrubbing his hands with lye soap like he wished he could scrub his past, making him worthy to be more than a friend.

“This has been a fun summer so far, hasn’t it?” she asked as she plopped a serving tray on the counter before tugging glasses from the cabinet.

“The best,” he readily agreed, unable to remember a summer when he’d been this happy, spending time with Sheridan, her family, and her friend without having to worry about more. Picking up a half lemon, he ground it to a pulp on the glass citrus squeezer as if it were the annoying attraction he felt for her, squeezing it out of his system once and for all. But tonight would be the start, he hoped, when he completely dispelled the idea of anything more—in both of their minds.

His smile quirked. “Except for your killer instinct in cornhole and horseshoes that is, Half-Pint, which nicks my male pride more often than I like.”

Her chuckle filled both the kitchen and his heart as she retrieved the sugar crock from the pantry, hurrying back to his side to clunk it on the counter. “Well, goodness, Jake Sullivan, I have to do something to keep you on your toes, don’t I?” she said with an imp of a smile, but her unspoken message was loud and clear as it braised the back of his neck.

If I can’t kiss you.

Bleeding every single drop of juice from each lemon, he stepped aside to let her mix in the sugar, arms crossed as he cocked a hip to the counter. “Well, you definitely do that, Half-Pint, but then you always have, darlin’.”

She peeked up at him with so much love in her eyes, he froze on the spot, along with his tongue. He’d called her sweetheart and darlin’ all of her life, but suddenly now, it felt way too intimate. “So, how’s the tutoring going?” he quickly asked, moving to the pump under the guise of washing lemon juice off of his hands.

Chuckling, she measured out a cup of sugar. “Good, if you don’t count the pregnant bull frog Pee-wee Portell brought to show Grace.” She shook her head as she poured sugar into the pitcher. “The poor thing screamed like a little baby, shaking so hard, she about jumped out of her skin.” She slid him a sideways grin. “And Grace too.”

His laughter bounced off the walls as he dried his hands, more than familiar with the scream of a frightened frog, which did, indeed, sound like a startled infant.

Giggling, she promptly explained that the bullfrog was only one of a string of “gifts” Pee-wee had brought to Grace over the last few weeks. From a possum to a snake, that sweet boy had presented each with a proud puff of his chest, obviously smitten with his new teacher. And sweet Grace—as kind as she was—would simply ooh and ahh with great admiration, hand quivering against her chest while all the blood drained from her face.

They laughed so hard, Sheridan spilled part of the lemon juice all over the counter, so he grabbed a few more from the fruit basket to squeeze while she entertained him with the rest of the details. “God bless that woman,” he said with a shake of his head as Sheridan cleaned up the spilled juice.

“Oh, He has,” Sheridan said with a giggle, “because she told me she’s having the time of her life.” Mischief gleamed bright in her eyes while he poured the fresh lemon juice into her pitcher, and sliding him a grin, she placed it under the pump. “But somebody needs to tell that boy that wildflowers go a whole lot further with girls than wild frogs!”

Their laughter merged in the cozy kitchen as he worked the pump for her, reminding him just how much he enjoyed their easy friendship. “I’ll be sure to have a talk with the boy when I take Midnight to the orphanage next week for a little R-R.” He winked as he stepped back to let her stir. “Sister Fred’s brilliant ‘Riding Reward” program, you know, where the kiddos earn rides ‘through the dark, scary fairy-tale forest’ behind the orphanage while I tell them spook stories, which has done wonders to shape those boys up.” He grinned. “Although most of the girls prefer prince and princess love stories like you always used to.”

Her smile melted into the same hero worship he’d always seen from little on, but this time it was the gentle respect of a woman. “If I’ve never told you before, I really admire what you and Blaze do for Sister Fred and the orphanage, Jake, reaching out to those boys like you do, not to mention all the building and repairs you help Mr. Murphy with.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, not comfortable with her praise because he sure didn’t deserve it. “We can’t touch what you, Grace, Kathy Jean, and Sophia do for those kids, Sher, and on your summer break too.”

She shrugged as she stirred. “We love doing it, no question, and Grace and I want to be teachers, so it’s good training as well.” Laying the spoon aside, she paused to peer up at him with a tenderness she seemed to reserve just for him. “But I can tell, Jake Sullivan, that you’re going to be a wonderful father someday.”

Heat scorched the back of his neck as he took a step back, avoiding her eyes while he stared at the floor. “Sher …” Sucking in air like sustenance, he looked up to face her head-on, insides as shaky as an aspen leaf in the wind because her friendship was the most precious thing in his life. He cleared his throat.

Now to keep it that way.

“Yes, Jake?” Her body stilled like his, and he was pretty darn sure that neither of them were breathing as he cradled a gentle hand to her face, hoping and praying she would understand. “I need to tell you something, darlin’.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Sheridan froze.

Oh my goodness—this is it!

The moment she’d been waiting for.

Praying for.