Page 30 of Wildest Dreams

“Hold on. Who bought this?” I ask her, well aware that the early morning dipper is currently nowhere to be seen.

Fallon makes a wishy-washy kind of sound that has me narrowing my eyes on her.

“Fallon.”

“Yeah?”

“Who bought everyone’s dinner?” I ask again, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I already know that I’m about to take the very low, petty, hungry road.

She mumbles something that sounds suspiciously likewell maybe it was Tannerand I release a tiny howl.

No way am I eating it if that annoyingly hot big shot bought it. I refuse to be in his debt.

So I sniff and say, “Goodbye burger and fries,” before turning around so that I can face the guys again.

Except that when I turn around I fully whack my face into the world’s hardest set of chest muscles.

“Ow! What the hell!” I squeal, rubbing quickly at my forehead before glowering up at Tanner’s handsome face. “Jesus Christ, were you carved from stone?”

He ignores that and jabs a big blunt finger toward something over my shoulder.

“That’s for you,” he says, his expression unreadable.

I glance back to see what he’s talking about and I roll my eyes. Fallon has placed the burger and fries on a log and made a sad little shrine.

“No thanks,” I say, brushing past him so that I can head back to the lake house.

“Aisling, for Christ’s sakes. It’s just a goddamn burger.”

I spin around, shocked to see that he’s actually following me. I try to pick up my pace but he just grips me by my elbow and starts herding me over to his irritatingly sexy G-wagon.

“You are one stubborn woman,” he adds on in a quiet growl as he snatches the burger, rounds me to the back of his car, and pushes the food into the palms of my hands.

It really does smell good.

I scowl up at him anyway. “My belly, my prerogative.”

He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, momentarily checking me out over my overalls.

When he lifts his gaze back to mine he jerks his chin at me and says, “What, you don’t like fries or something?”

Before I can answer he pulls me away from the door of his car, tugging it open and jerking his thumb at the backseat.

“I bought a bunch of stuff, take your pick,” he says, his voice gravelly and quiet. His cheeks stain pink when he mumbles, “There’s a blackberry cobbler back there that’s pretty good, too. Sugar cookie crumble on top. It’s… it’s my favourite.”

I tamper down that little squeeze in my heart.He’s offering me his favourite food.

I hesitate for a second too long and Tanner gently tugs the burger and fries from my tightly clenched fist, replacing it with a small disposable tinfoil tray containing a freshly-baked blackberry cobbler.

He eases a fork into my hand, giving me the world’s cutest peace offering.

Tanner clears his throat, his big warm body close to mine. “Try it,” he rumbles. “My mom always gets it when my dad’s in town. It’s our favourite.”

I risk a glance up into his eyes and he’s looking down at me with red cheeks, his expression hopeful.

Damn it, Tanner,I think to myself.Why did you have to be a player?

I drop my gaze and take the smallest forkful of cobbler that I can, nibbling in silence as he watches me from a foot above. It’s warm and sweet. I find it kind of adorable that this is Tanner’s favourite food.

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