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Caden clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward toward Maggie’s ear. She tucked a stray red strand behind her lobe. “Trust me, the next time you scream. Except under more pleasant circumstances.”
* * *
Forget dinner—Maggie was ready for dessert. She sighed heavily and stepped out of the line. As she bumped Caden’s shoulder, she mumbled a few parting words. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”
“To make things clear,” Caden began. He caught up to Maggie in three long strides. “You’re conceding to our wager?”
Maggie ignored the way her heart sped up when their hands bumped together as their footsteps synchronized on the way to her Jeep. Something about their walk was comforting. In the six months since she’d become a resident again of Southwood, Maggie strutted with a different kind of confidence from her former materialistic lifestyle.
“You know what sounds good?”
Maggie turned around expecting to find one of the Reyes men. Instead, Dario Crowne strolled up to the kissing booth with a rolled-up wad of money. Dario the lothario had broken many hearts in Southwood—that was, until Kimber came home from college and allegedly stole his heart.
“Evening, Maggie, ladies,” Dario said to everyone. He sidled up to Caden and extended his hand. “You seem new in town. Dario Crowne.”
“Caden Archibald.”
“Nice meeting you, Caden. Sorry I can’t chat, but I’m about to pay for all of these ladies to go on their break while Miss Kimber and I settle up on the kissing booth.”
“Not,” Kimber quickly countered.
Trying not to laugh, Maggie grabbed Caden’s hand. “Best of luck to you. We’re going to get something to eat.”
“Good luck,” Kimber called out. “You know you need a reservation for everything tonight.”
Once again they walked at the same pace and their hands bumped together. Maggie waved to the folks she knew, stopped a few times and introduced Caden to everyone. The kickoff to the annual fair shut the town down. Like Kimber said, there’d be barely anything open, and if it was, reservations would definitely be required.
“You know—” Caden began.
“I was thinking—” Maggie said at the same time. The gentle brush of his shoulder against hers, accompanied by a head nod, let her continue. “Sorry, I was just thinking we don’t have to go out to dinner.”
Caden’s feet stopped at the yellow protective cover over the electrical wires for portable concession stands. “So what I hear you saying is you’d rather go back to my hotel for dessert.”
“Not your hotel room.” Maggie burst out laughing.
“Why, Miss Magnolia.” Caden used his deep Southern drawl to accentuate her name. “Aren’t you being a bit forward asking me to your place? You just introduced me to your parents.”
A hand on her hip and the other wagging in Caden’s face, Maggie shook her head. “I did not make introductions, we just happened to run into them.”
“Either way, I met your parents,” he went on, “on our first date.”
“This is not a date,” Maggie said, still laughing. “As a matter of fact, I am thinking about postponing living up to my end of the bargain.”
“Not a chance.”
“Caden, every place open needs a reservation. Celebrations after the fair are a big deal around here.”
Caden shrugged his broad shoulders without care. “Let’s see what happens.”
“Fine, if that’s what you want to do, but we’re also not dressed properly.” She’d changed out of her baking shorts and T-shirt earlier today into a fresher pair this morning. Either way, her attire was not appropriate for fine dining.
“You’re so popular around here,” Caden remarked, “I figured a smile from you would get us in.”
“You’re cute,” Maggie moaned.
Instead of standing there debating her popularity or not, Caden reached down and finally took hold of her hand. In an instant proverbial sparks flew through her fingertips. She kept walking, deciding motion was the best distraction.
Thanks to Southwood being such a small town, there was no need to drive anywhere, so they
