Page 42 of Lucky Haven

Because we’re going to have an audience when we walk past The Friendly Table.

It also has the side benefit of him giving me a reassuring squeeze when he says, “I was just wondering if maybe you were curious about your sexuality, in a not-yet-explored kind of way.”

If only a reassuring squeeze was enough to keep me from tripping over my feet in shock.

Cash catches me around the waist, preventing me from spilling ass over teakettle onto the sidewalk.

“Sorry,” he whispers as he rights me, holding me firm against his chest. “That was out of line.”

“No,” I whisper. “It’s all right. I’m sure I’m straight, but I’m surprised you asked that.”

“Just trying to figure you out, I guess.” He relaxes his grip on me, but doesn’t let me go completely. “Wouldn’t want to push you in a direction you don’t want to go.”

I shiver, despite the warmth of the summer morning. “You’d never push me somewhere I don’t want to go.”

A frown pinches between his eyes, and his gaze turns unexpectedly stormy. “I hope I keep living up to that belief.”

“Well, this is cozy,” someone says, the gossipy smirk obvious in her voice even before I turn to look at Jessika Foote, who is approaching us on the sidewalk.

“I heard you two were together.” Her gaze flicks right past me and locks on Cash. “Didn’t believe it, but...”

Now I understand his growl yesterday at Jasper, because if my nails could extend into claws, I’d be using them right now on her catty face.

Cash doesn’t reply to her. He doesn’t even look at her. His eyes stay locked on me as he says, “Morning, Jess. You heading to the diner?”

“Not this morning,” she says regretfully. “I have a meeting first thing. Are you two going there?”

There’s a whole wordless exchange that goes on between us. Cash has to get back to the garage. I wouldn’t want to go there if I’d get cornered with Jessika, the worst gossip in Dragonfly Creek, but I have time to grab a coffee.

“Yeah,” he says slowly, drawing it out. “Gonna grab coffee before work.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there tomorrow.” She hurries past us, now in a rush, either for her meeting or to get on a group chat about what she just stumbled across on the sidewalk.

Cash walks me right to the diner door, but as he grabs it, something across the street grabs his attention. He swears under his breath. I follow the direction of his gaze.

Jeb’s truck is back at the garage.

“I need to go and save Riley from that,” he says as he leans in.

I catch the front of his shirt in my hands, worry slicing through me.

He wraps his fist around my fingers. Warm, confident, strong. “I’ll behave.”

“Please do.”

He leans in, and whispers, “Everyone’s watching.”

Then he brushes his lips against my mouth, slow and claiming.

Then he takes the steps backwards, keeping his eyes locked on me as he heads in the direction of the garage. “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Working.” I have to lift my voice now because he’s getting further away.

“Text me if you want me to bring you anything.” He glances both ways, then jogs across the street. Now he’s actually yelling. “And remember, I’m cooking tonight.”

That’s loud enough that Jeb, Jessika, Riley and everyone in the diner all heard him.

Inside The Friendly Table, the counter is blessedly free, so I take a seat there and devote myself to studying the breakfast menu.