Page 7 of Big Dill

Painfully, agonizingly…deliciously torturous.

“Are we still stopping at Verna’s?” I ask, turning my gaze toward Jaxon, but of course I find her instead. Big blue eyes, tired but vulnerable. Just like that, something inside me tightens. At least now I understand a little bit of that desperate need from the night we hooked up.

Jaxon had told me everything—her situation, her ex, why she needed this job. We weren’t exactly hiring, financially speaking, but after hearing her story there was no way I was going to say no. My only regret was not tracking that bastard down back in Halifax and delivering a personal ‘hello’ with my fist.

“Verna’s?” Jami asks, her arm brushing mine as she shifts. Instant jolt. Painful. Electrifying. Christ, why do I still want her so badly?

“Verna is my aunt. She owns the restaurant on Main. Good food. Nothing fancy like the city, but homey and delicious.”

Her brow furrows, echoing her brother’s expression. “I don’t need fancy,” she mumbles.

Shit. Did I say something wrong? Did I insult her somehow?

Jaxon rubs his stomach. “Best jiggs dinner you’ve ever tasted.”

Jami stifles a yawn behind her hand. “Jiggs dinner?”

“Traditional Newfoundland meal,” I explain. “Corned beef and cabbage.”

“Oh, right. I remember you saying something about that, Jaxon,” she says as he leans over and turns the heat up.

“I think you’re really going to enjoy the local cuisine,” I say.

Her gaze snaps to mine, and I swear my body decides it’s on fire. I try not to shift—or breathe too loudly—because one look at those hungry eyes and suddenly the temperature in the truck spikes by about fifty degrees.

I don’t know her that well, but I can’t help but think her reaction, everything about her gaze, screams that she’d like to sample more than Newfoundland cuisine tonight (read: me).

But that could just be wishful thinking.

The truth is, we both need to get ourselves together, because if Jaxon picks up on even a fraction of this tension, my life is about to become very complicated.

“Verna’s sounds great. That’s your aunt’s name?” she asks, her voice low, casual, while my heart continues to do gymnastics.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m sure you’ll like her.” Her soft smile and tight nod wrap around my body and squeezes the air from my lungs, reminding me this woman could use a break and a few good friends.

Remind me again why I didn’t beat the crap out of the guy who hurt her?

“I’m sure I will.”

“She usually makes jiggs dinner on Sundays, but I asked her to make it for you tonight.”

Her eyes widen like I just told her I’d personally wrestled a moose for her meal. “You…did?”

“Yeah. A welcome-to-Churchill-Falls meal.”

Shit. I do not want to give her the wrong idea. Or the right idea. I don’t even know what ‘idea’ I’m talking about anymore. I mean, it’s exactly what I would have done for any friend—or my best friend’s sister—coming into town.

“I asked last week…before I knew…”

That brief glimmer of light in her eyes dim.

Damn, did I hurt her feelings? Make her think she’s not special?

Shit. I’m sort of damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

Jaxon leans forward. “Before you knew what?” he asks, his tone full of curiosity.

“Oh, before I knew how late you’d be getting in,” I say quickly, proud of myself for thinking so fast on my feet, and hating myself for the lie. I hate liars. “I didn’t know your flight would be so late, or that you’d be getting off a cargo plane.”