Page 32 of Stranded in the Wylde

"—me?"

"Yes!" I pull him up, kissing the exasperated look off his face. "But you should know, if you think I'm going to stop interrupting you just because we're married..."

He laughs against my lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The ring fits perfectly. A delicate vintage piece that somehow manages to be both elegant and unique. Just like the man who chose it.

"I love you," I say. "Even if you did use wood stain as an excuse."

"It worked, didn't it?"

A commotion outside draws us to the workshop window. A food truck is attempting to parallel park in front of thebookstore, and not having much luck. Even from here, I can see the driver's frustrated gestures.

"Should we help?" I ask.

Before Dean can answer, Jake’s truckpulls up. He hops out, heading toward the struggling food truck with his usual easy confidence.

The driver's door opens, and a woman steps out – curvy and gorgeous, with wild dark curls barely contained by a bandana. She plants her hands on her hips, looking ready to tell Jake exactly where he can put his help.

But then their eyes meet, and something electric passes between them.

"Oh," I murmur, leaning back against Dean's chest. "This should be good."

We watch as Jake helps guide the truck into place, the woman's initial defensiveness melting into something softer. When she opens the service window and pulls out what looks like a container of food, Jake's whole face lights up.

"Ten bucks says he finds an excuse to come back tomorrow," I say.

"No bet." Dean wraps his arms around me, both of us watching as Jake leans against the food truck, completely captivated while the woman gestures animatedly about something.

Through the window, we watch as Jake takes a bite of whatever she's given him, his eyes widening in obvious delight. The woman – Madison, according to the "Peak Bites by Madison" logo on her truck – beams with pride.

"Well," I say, playing with my new ring, "looks like Wylde Mountain is about to get a lot more interesting."

Dean presses a kiss to my temple. "Good thing we've got front row seats."

I smile, watching Jake hand Madison his card. Her cheeks flush as she takes it, tucking it into her apron pocket.

Sometimes the tastiest stories are the ones you never saw coming. And something tells me Jake and Madison’s is going to be delicious.