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“Shane would love a slice of your coconut cream. He has never experienced your genius.”
“Then sweetie, you are in for a treat. This is my mother’s recipe and has been winning me awards before I opened these doors.” Miss Karen cut a slice and placed it on a white doily that sat upon a jadeite plate. “Here we go.” She handed him the plate then a fork. “Get ready to fall in love.”
He had no idea why he looked at Olivia instead of the pie, but his eyes locked with hers, and the world around him dimmed.
The world came back into focus, and he snapped his gaze away from the brown depths of Olivia’s eyes and concentrated on the solitary slice of pie. He had no idea what the hell that was, but he wasn’t about to explore it.
“And what can I get you, Olivia? Or would you like an extra fork to share?”
“Oh no,” Shane said, breaking his attention away from the brown depths of Olivia’s gaze. “There is no way I’m sharing.”
“Selfish!” Olivia said with mock shock that had him stifling a laugh.
“You’re the one who said this pie is amazing. If that’s the case one slice probably won’t cut it. Go ahead. Get whatever you want. On me.” Her eyebrow lifted, but before she could say anything, he reached into his pocket and handed over his debit card to Miss Karen. “Whatever you want,” he repeated and gave her a wink.
Olivia ordered the old-fashioned chocolate cream pie, and they sat at one of the four tables pushed against the wall.
“You ready?” Her eyes took him in, and he liked the excitement dancing in her irises. To think she was this excited over him trying a little piece of pie. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of look she’d have in her eyes if he were to peel that low clinging shirt from her body, lick a line down to her navel, and suck on the sensitive spot where skin met panties.
The thought had him shifting in his seat. He brought his attention back to the pie and picked up the fork. “I’m ready.”
“Well, go on.” Olivia waved her hand at him impatiently.
He took a forkful, and when his mouth closed over the creamy bite, he was transported back to his tenth birthday and all the years that followed. Nostalgia washed over him, basking him in happy memories before a rush of sadness sucker-punched him in the chest. All he had left of Mom were random waves of recollections that hit him at the strangest of moments—eating pie, hearing a cardinal, a TV commercial. Some recalling significant times together and others just a reminder of an insignificant conversation.
It hurt to think that he’d never be able to make any new memories with her. He shoved the sadness down, refusing to allow himself to drown in the darkness for more than a moment.
He glanced at Olivia who was practically out of her seat on his side of the table.
“So?” she asked.
All he had to do was lift up slightly to press his lips to hers, use her to completely cover up the ache in his heart while he did the same for her. He controlled his carnal urge and pointed the fork at the slice. “Amazing.”
Olivia shimmied in her chair, and his attention drifted to the two mounds bouncing beneath her top.
“I told you!” she announced pride lighting her face before she spun in her chair and gave two thumbs up to Miss Karen. “He loves it!”
“I knew he would. My mama’s recipe never disappoints.”
She turned back to him, a satisfied smile curving wide.
“You’re really proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”
“Not that I ever doubted Miss Karen’s genius, but I was afraid your palette wouldn’t be up to par.”
“I see how it is. You don’t think I know a good pie when I taste one because I’m not some rich city boy?”
“That’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is some people think boxed stuff is better than homemade. I didn’t know what side of the spectrum you swung on.” She forked a piece of her own pie, and her pink lips closed around the chocolate piece. A moan sounded in her throat just before her tongue slipped out and swiped across her mouth.Damn. He didn’t realize how sexy eating could be. “Sorry. I always have to savor that first bite.”
“Only the first bite?” If he had a taste of her, he would be sure to savor every last drop.
“The first bite is always the best.”
He took another bite, enjoying it just as much as the first. “Why is that?”
“It’s all the anticipation winding up into that one moment, and if it exceeds your expectations, then every bite after will, too.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
