Ryker
I’ve never been to a farmers’ market before. I didn’t even know they were open after summer, but Justine was sipping a cup of coffee at the bar in my kitchen this morning wearing nothing but my T-shirt and when she said she wanted to go, there wasn’t enough willpower in the world for me to say no. Add to that it was a little cold inside, making her nipples hard, and I might have been distracted about what I was saying yes to.
Either way, now we’re here, and I’m carrying three bags of apples around the farmers’ market because Justine is dying to make applesauce, apple pie, and apple crisp. Apparently it’s a fall thing, and with everything going on this year, she hasn’t had time to do it.
I’m sure as hell not going to complain if the woman wants to bake for me. Actually, I’d probably beg her to bake for me, which puts me in the realm of royally fucked. Things between us have already gone past any level that I expected, and my thoughts would probably freak her the fuck out. What would she say if she knew I was falling in love with her? Would she run the other way?
Justine is impossible to read, and I’ve worked my ass off not to scare her away. Right now, I feel like every day I get with her is a bonus, but the thought of losing her twists me up inside.
I’m trying not to think about it. Trying not to dwell on how much it would suck to lose her.
I’m not going to lose her.
“I think I’ve got enough,” Justine says, looking from my full arms to the pile of apples displayed at one of the stalls.
“You sure?” I try not to laugh because she looks so damn cute when she’s agonizing over this.
She nods emphatically. “Yes. I’m good. I’ve already spent twenty bucks on apples, and we still have to hit the grocery store to get everything else I need.”
“If you’re making me apple pie and all this other stuff, then I’m throwing in for the other supplies.”
Justine narrows her eyes at me, and I can practically see the wheels in her brain spinning. “Okay, one more stall. And then we’re leaving.”
The young farm kid watching this entire exchange waits patiently while she picks out one last half bushel of apples. On the way out of the farmer’s market, I stop and grab a gallon of apple cider, a dozen apple cider doughnuts, and a bag of caramel corn.
It’s the best Saturday morning I’ve ever had, and it’s all because of the woman sitting in the passenger seat.
I want to tell her, but I don’t want to throw off the easiness of the day. I’ve got plenty of time . . . after all, I’m going to talk her into spending the entire weekend.
It’s safe to say that my condo has never smelled this frigging good. It’s also safe to say it’s never looked this fucking amazing either. I can’t take my eyes off Justine’s curvy ass as she bends over to pull a pie out of the oven.
I know I’d get backhanded by the Women’s Law Journal if I said that I loved seeing her barefoot in my kitchen. So sue me.
“Shit!”
She sets the pie plate on the top of the stove, and I’m by her side in three steps.
“Did you burn yourself? Are you okay?”
Justine’s face isn’t tinged with pain, but annoyance. “No, but the crust got too dark.”
It looks perfectly golden brown to me, but I don’t know shit about baking pies.
“It looks amazing.”
She scowls. “It was almost perfect, but I left it in a minute or so too long.”
I slide my hand around her hip and turn her to face me. “Baby, it’s perfect. And if you wanted to make sure I’m hooked on not only your brain but your baking skills, mission accomplished.”
The scowl fades away and a small smile takes its place. “You’re hooked on my brain?”
I let a cocky grin take charge. “Obviously, it was your spectacular tits and perfect ass that got me first, but the first time you got called on in Torts and you went head-to-head with Professor Payne and answered every single question, I had to wait for my dick to go down before I could stand up.”
“And you hit on me right after class.”
My grin widens at the fact that she remembers. “Fuck yes, I did. Sexy and smart. You’re the whole package. Why wouldn’t I hit on you?”
She rolls her eyes. “You realize that if you’d dropped the cheesy lines and just told me this two years ago, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hold out for so long.”
My grin fades. “Bullshit. I don’t think it would’ve mattered what I said; you would’ve shut me down every time. First year, I get. It sucks and it’s hard. Second year, you were focused on even harder classes and Law Review.”
Her gaze drops to the pie. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t have said yes. There’s no way I could balance it all. And right now, I’m terrified I won’t be able to either.” She looks up at me again. “I’m better at intense focus on one thing than I am at balance.”
“It’s going to be fine. I promise. School first, and we’ll work everything else around it.” I pull her in closer and drop a kiss on her forehead. “We got this.”
She nods, but her hesitation lingers. Even so, I know pushing the subject isn’t going to do me any favors. I’ll get her there. Eventually.
“So, what am I going to have to do to get a slice of that pie?”
The smile that tugs at her lips is my reward. “I think we can make some kind of deal . . .”