Page 15 of Just for the Plot

“Moon Pies?” He looks toward the living room. “Where?”

Yup, such a sweet tooth.

“Over here.” I pull him toward the living room, but he stops me.

“Hold on, let me put the cold stuff in the fridge really quick.”

From his bags, he pulls milk and yogurt and places them in the fridge along with some cheese and chicken.

When he shuts the fridge, he turns back toward me, so I take his hand again and drag him to the small circular dining room table where I set up the box of Moon Pies along with some napkins.

“Ta-da! I know how much you like sweet things, and as a thank-you for letting me stay the night, I bought you—but also me—some treats.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says as he sits down, opens the box, and snags one right away before taking a bite.

Chuckling, I grab one as well. “I can see you really mean that.”

He smiles while chewing. “Seriously, I do. This was really nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome and thanks for letting me stay here for a few nights—that’s if a few nights is okay with you.”

“Stay as long as you want,” he says, his eyes looking directly into mine, causing a weird chill to shoot up my spine. It’s the ice blue of his irises, they’re, well…chilling.

“Thank you.” I set my Moon Pie down and wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Uh…good job on the home run.”

His brow lifts, his expression almost comical, because we never talk baseball. Ever. At least not recently. Whenever we text, it’s always beenabout Gabby or stupid things like did you know cronuts existed? But never baseball, because I know nothing about it really and he, well, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it at all.

So it’s very smart of me to mention it now.

“You watched the game?”

I casually shrug. “Couldn’t find anything else on.”

That makes him smirk. “Uh-huh, why don’t I believe that?”

“Because it’s not true.” I break off a piece of my Moon Pie and plop it in my mouth. “I felt obligated to watch you play because I was talking to Gabby and she was watching you play as well.”

“You talked to Gabby?” he asks while polishing off his dessert. He gets up from the table and asks, “Drink?”

“Please,” I answer and then go back to his previous question. “Yeah, I broke the news to her. She was not happy, tried to convince me to move to Almond Bay instead and leave my job.”

“Sounds about right,” he says. “Did you tell her you were staying here?”

“Yeah.”

“Was she okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” I ask as he brings us both a glass of water.

He shrugs. “She can be territorial over you. When she found out that we text, she kept asking if you like me better than you like her.”

I laugh. “Right, well, I think I’ve tamped down that paranoia. But she seemed cool with it, no questions about where my loyalty stands.”

“With me, right?” he asks, adding a little wink under the brim of his hat.

“Keep dreaming.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll always fall in line with Gabby. Sorry.”

“A guy can try.” He stretches his legs out under the table and leans back in his chair. “So, what did you think about the game?”