Page 42 of Big Dill

She turns to glare at me. “You’re so annoying, Brody. It was bad enough growing up with Jaxon and all his stupid big-brother stints. Now I have to put up with you too.”

Jesus, I like her.

“Two brothers to annoy you,” Jaxon jokes. “How lucky are you?”

She pinches his side. “I can’t wait to get my own place.”

Jaxon jumps back. “Come on, you know you love it here with us.”

“Nasty face hairs in the sink, smelly shoes by the door, and long showers that drain the hot water tank? I think not, big brother.” She glances at me, and my heart skips.

Honestly, this last week—especially after the kiss that was supposed to douse this flame—has been hard. Thankfully we’ve both been busy: eating at our desks, grabbing dinners at different times, avoiding each other… mostly.

Except…

In the mornings, when she walks into the kitchen, low-rise pajama pants revealing a creamy slice of skin.

Torturous.

At the social, watching pickleball and making smoothies.

Agonizing.

At night, passing each other outside the bathroom.

Excruciating.

Oh, and in my dreams. Always in my dreams.

Hard.

“You sure they don’t mind me coming?” she asks, pulling me back.

“If you didn’t show…” I slice my hand across my neck. “Toast.”

She looks down for a moment, troubled. “That’s nice of them to invite me.”

That look reminds me she needs a friend, not a guy to complicate her life. And honestly, I don’t need the complications either.

No, dude, you just need her touch.

“You say that now,” I mock-shiver. “Just wait until the interrogation begins.”

“There’s not going to be an interrogation,” she snorts, unfazed. She throws up a dismissive hand. “Everyone in this town already knows everything about me. Just this morning, I was leaving the Cozy Cup, and Mr. Cheeseman asked me about my new toothbrush.”

I laugh. “He did not.” Yeah, he probably did.

“He did,” she insists. “He told me I should get one with softer bristles. Wouldn’t be so weird if he was my dentist, but he’s not. He’s the mayor who also drives a plow truck, Brody.” She throws her hands up, and Jaxon and I laugh. “The mayor who drives a plow truck.”

“It’s a small town. We multitask. And as the mayor, he just cares about his citizens.” I assure her. “That’s what mayors are like in small towns.”

“I’m glad he didn’t see what else I bought,” she murmurs as she turns.

Unable to leave it, I ask, “What else did you buy?”

She spins, pointing a finger at me. I catch a hint of pink in her cheeks. “Not your business.” I open my mouth and she continues with, “Your mom really doesn’t want me to bring a dish?” she asks, smoothly changing the subject—though now I really want to know what else she bought.

“Nope. Ma’s love language is feeding people. That’s something that runs in my family.”