Page 14 of Promise Me a Forever Texas Love

“You most certainly did. You even spit in my hair.”

“I did not spit in your hair. I spit in my hand and then smoothed down your hair because I didn’t want the kids calling you Alfalfa.”

“You were the one who called me Alfalfa.”

She glanced up at the top of his head. “Because that wayward piece of hair has a mind of its own.”

His breath hitched in his chest when she reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. It was like she’d walked across carpet in her socks before touching him. A current of electricity ran through him and every cell in his body arched.

Time stopped.

Or maybe reversed.

He was five again and standing on the playground looking into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Then he was eighteen, woozy from the pain in her eyes and teenage hormones . . . feeling things he had no business feeling but couldn’t seem to stop.

Those same feelings welled up now. If it had just been desire, he could have ignored it. But mixed with the raw lust that clawed at his gut like a raptor was something much stronger. And much more dangerous.

There was no way to ignore it.

There never had been.

His hands lifted without any prompting from his brain and settled on her hips, his palms and fingers gauging the differences of this woman from the girl he’d left behind.

He hesitated a second, waiting for Cadee to stop this craziness. But when her gaze met his, her eyes held no sign of resistance. And the fingers in his hair tightened as if he might try to escape.

But there was no escaping Cadee.

He’d learned that the hard way.

“Cadee.” Her name came off his lips like both a curse and a prayer as he lowered his head. But before he could get more than a sweet sip of her soft lips, every clock in the bookstore started chiming, donging, and chirping. Still, he refused to let her go . . . until she fisted his hair and tugged hard.

“Oww!” He drew back and grabbed his head. They stood there staring at each other and breathing like they’d just finished an all-out sprint before her eyes widened.

“Shit. Cam’s soccer game!” She shoved past him and disappeared around the bookcase. “Cam! Come on! We’re late!”

Once he heard them going down the stairs, Camden grumbling about how he didn’t want to go to soccer practice, Huck’s knees gave out and he wilted down into an overstuffed chair.

He’d learned two things today.

One, he sucked with kids.

And two, no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t over Cadee Stockton.

CHAPTER FIVE

“You’re overmixing that pumpkin bread batter, Cadee Lynn.”

Her mama’s words snapped Cadee out of her thoughts, and she realized she was whipping the hell out of the batter in the bowl in front of her. She stopped stirring and tapped the spoon on the side before setting it down.

“Sorry. I was woolgathering.” She picked up the bowl and started pouring the batter into the prepared loaf pans.

“And just how did this wooly sheep tick you off?” Birdie asked.

Birdie was Tully Hennessy’s grandmother. She owned a cotton farm and still worked a piece of it herself. She was feisty and blunt and rarely seen wearing anything but her signature overalls and flannel shirt. She had come over to help bake the pumpkin bread for the Harvest Festival the church held on Halloween. It was Cadee’s great-grandmother’s secret recipe that had been passed down for generations and they sold like hotcakes at the festival. Which was why they started baking the loaves in early September and freezing them.

“I’m not ticked off,” Cadee said.

Birdie snorted. “That was pissed off whipping if ever I saw it.”