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“Can I help you?” Jasmine asks as she comes from the back area. “Oh, hey, Harper! How are you?”
“I’m so good right now, Jasmine. Can I get one of those donuts?” I ask, drool probably hanging from my chin as she giggles and retrieves a wax paper square for my breakfast. Or lunch, I guess, since it’s closer to noon than breakfast time.
That’s also when I notice the free samples on the counter. Fudge. Samples. I barely even chew as I reach for the first piece and slide it into my mouth, the rich sweetness hitting my tongue and setting my senses ablaze. “Holy shit,” I mumble with my mouth full.
“My little muffin-bottom loves chocolate, doesn’t she?” Latham coos in a sugary sweet voice, drawing my attention, as well as Jasmine’s.
“Excuse me?” I ask, whipping around to face him and giving him my trademark death stare. Oh, my mouth’s still full, by the way.
“Hi, Jasmine, I’m not sure if you remember me. Latham Douglas,” he says, extending his hand over the counter.
“Oh, Latham, of course! How have you been? Are you back in town?”
“I am, thanks. I just couldn’t stay away from my little pookie any longer,” he says, grabbing my hand.
I swallow hard over the fudge and give him a look. What the fuck is he talking about?
“Wait, are you…are you guys together?” Jasmine asks, her face alive with excitement.
Before I can say “Fuck no!” Latham opens his big-ass mouth. “We are!”
“Fuck,” I grumble, trying to pry my hand from his grip.
“And…we’re getting married!” he announces to God and the only woman within hearing distance.
“Shut up!” she screams, clapping her hands with excitement.
“Yeah, shut up,” I mutter, my mouth hanging open.
“So, I thought we’d stop in and try some of those cake samples you posted about in the display,” Latham says, bringing my hand to his mouth and placing tender kisses along my knuckles.
I can’t breathe.
“Absolutely! Do you have a date set yet?” she asks, glancing between my new fiancé and me.
“Not yet, Jasmine. It’s a fairly new development.”
“Really new,” I whisper, watching as his lips continue to dance on my skin.
“I’m so excited! Let me go grab some samples. Meet me over at that table in the corner,” she hollers as she turns and retreats to the back room.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I growl, ripping my hand from his and hitting him across the shoulder. The very hard, unforgiving shoulder. My hand throbs, but I’m not about to give him the satisfaction that his stupid muscles injured my hand.
“What? I thought you’d be happy. Now you get chocolate cake,” he reasons, leading me to the table.
I plop down hard in the chair and rub my throbbing temples. “You could have just bought me some chocolate, Latham. You didn’t have to tell her we were getting married, you big, dumb idiot!”
He sits down across from me. “Oh, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“At what time did a fake engagement seem like a good idea, Latham?”
He just smirks. “It’s okay to admit you’re a little excited at the thought of being my betrothed.”
“I’d rather streak naked through the town square on Sunday morning, right after church.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that, actually,” Latham says, leaning back in the chair, his big long legs extended out casually before him so that the front two legs lift off the floor.
“You’ll never see it. Ever,” I growl, kicking my foot out and pushing against the chair. Latham teeters for a second before realization sets in. He falls backward, going down hard, his back and the chair hitting the floor with a loud, wood-splitting crunch.
