Page 10 of Stirring Up Love
Simone crooked a finger at him and walked out the back of the tent without checking to see if he was following. His blood pressure cracked through his skull and vented out the other side.
He caught up to her at the back edge of the tent. “Be honest, you put the Yarn Spinners in my booth.”
“Whoa, dude.” She spun around, eyes flashing. “I don’t owe you an explanation. But if I did, I’d guess Tim must’ve forgotten to mention all the booths are shared. He’s getting up in years, you know.”
Finn didn’t know, considering he’d never met the man. But telling her so would’ve played right into her hands.
“Or maybe the market organizers made a mistake,” she said, continuing to ramble on in spite of his silence. Suspicious. Or maybe she was just flustered by his accusation? “You could always give them a call. Though most of them go fishing on summer mornings. Hard to reach them out on the lake.” She flicked her hand across her legs to shoo a fly, and his attention fell to her bare thighs beneath the frayed hem of her shorts. So. Hot.
Out here—so hot out here.Jeez, Finn.
He raked a hand through his hair, less certain now but in too deep. “I know you had a hand in this.” In what, though? The vocal presence of the knitters would make selling his sauce a little more inconvenient. But even if she had been the one to tell them to take over half the booth, it wasn’t like she’d engaged in some kind of nefarious foul play. If she wanted him gone, this was the perfect way to push him out without implicating herself.
“Are you one of them?” The intrepid leader, no doubt. No visible knitted attire on her, although maybe she was hiding it ... a yarn bra?
His gaze drifted down again to the glossy hollow between her collarbones. Snapped back up. Was he seriously about to ogle her chest under the guise of checking for aknitted bra?
“One of the Yarn Spinners?” She chuckled, and he couldn’t tell from the sound whether she was laughing at his accusation or his inner turmoil. “Please. They’ve been trying to indoctrinate me into their cult for years, but no thanks. They do make quality stuff, though. They could crochet you a tote to haul all your unsold merchandise back to your car.” Her smirk was an ice pick to his soul.
“Do you realize this is my livelihood you’re messing with? I reserved that spot, fair and square.” Last minute, and through third parties, but still. Come to think of it, Simone might have been telling the truth about Tim Brewster’s forgetfulness, but somehow he doubted it.
“If you’re concerned about fairness, you should know we abide by an honor system here.” Honor system. Ironic, coming from her. “Onlyone vendor selling each category of goods. In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a small town.”
“I didn’t realize it was a town at all, because the only thing I’ve seen since I pulled off the interstate is cornfields.”
Okay, maybe bad-mouthing the town was not the best approach. Her golden eyes narrowed under the brim of her hat, but her glare made him dig in deeper. “Besides, I didn’t know about your little code, so you can hardly ban me from selling based on something I didn’t agree to.”
Her full lips pressed into a straight line, nostrils flaring. The motion pulled his attention to the freckles dusting her high cheekbones, scattered across her nose.
“You’re right, I can’t ban you. But good luck selling anything today with your new stall buddies driving away business.”
Aha! “So you did have a hand in it.”
Without a reply, she turned her back on him and crunched away over the gravel. Full of righteous indignation, he caught up to her in a jog, then angled to cut her off. She stopped short, just before their hips collided, and the hairs on his arms shot up.
Unnerved by his reaction to her nearness, he growled, “You big coward.”
“Coward?” She didn’t back down, uttering the question inches from his lips. He would not,would not, look at her mouth. Or her hips, a hairbreadth from his. How easy would it be to slip his fingers into the belt loops of her overalls and tug her closer? Breathing quick, he shoved aside the unwelcome thought.
“Yeah. Coward.” Her calm, aloof expression shot fire through his veins. “You said you’d welcome competition, yet you went and pulled some strings to drive away the first person to challenge you.”
“I told you already. There must’ve been a clerical error.” She crossed her arms. “And scared? Please. My barbecue’s the best—I could beat anyone’s sauce, any day.” Her voice squeaked on the last word, and he let one corner of his mouth lift.
“From what I heard around the market this morning, it’s yourgrandfather’ssauce, not yours.” He’d heard precisely one person say that. But he knew how to fight dirty too. Hated doing it, but for once, he had something worthwhile on the line.
Her small, pointed chin lifted in defiance. “You heard wrong, then. Honey and Hickory is mine, and mine alone. And this is my town. You’d better find a new home base to sell your sauce.” Turning her back on him again, she ducked under the tent flap, a haughty queen ending an audience with an enemy general on the battlefield.
Find a new home ...little did she know that’s what he’d been trying to do his whole life, without success. A family? He’d found people who cared about him, who had his back no matter what. But home remained elusive.
Simone had hit a nerve, but he was done being kicked out and pushed aside. Forgotten and replaced. He had a right to be here, same as her, and he intended to stick around and make her regret treating him like an outsider.
CHAPTER 5
SIMONE
Squeezing the reins, Simone brought her horse to a halt. Willow obeyed with a snort, and she rose in the stirrups, eyes shaded to peer across the field at a familiar silver truck kicking up dust on the main road. Meg, on her way home already.
Dang it. The only company she wanted right now was the four-legged kind. Horses didn’t require chitchat and had zero interest in drama and gossip, which is why she’d come straight here after throwing down with Barbecue Boy at the farmers’ market.
