Page 62 of Make Mine Sweet
“He’ll inhale them if he gets close enough.” He’s already standing between August and me, his nose an inch away from the tabletop. He’s well behaved most of the time, but he’s not too proud to lick up the crumbs that fall onto the patio.
“Can I give him a bite?”
Can’t hurt anything. I nod, and August grabs a forkful of cake between his little fingers. He passes it to Dutch, who takes it from him with an excessive use of tongue.
August squeals with delight. “He likes it!”
“I thought he might.”
August eats another forkful, watching me as he stretches his tongue to reach all the frosting left around his mouth. “Can I see your bunny?”
I pause, my fork hovering over the remains of the cupcake. “My what?”
“Mama and Aunt Wren said you have a boy bunny. I want to see it. I like bunnies.”
Tess and I share a look over his head, but she just makes a “no idea” face.
He looks so eager, I hate to disappoint him. “Dutch is the only pet I’ve got, kiddo.”
His hopeful expression falls. “But they said you have a man bun.”
Tess throws one hand in front of her face, coughing and spluttering around her last bite of cupcake. It’s not enough to hide how her cheeks wash with pink, though.
“Oh, did they?” I lean closer to August. “What else did they say about my man bun?”
“Aunt Wren said she didn’t think Mama liked them very much, but Mama said shereallylikes yours.”
“Okay,” Tess chokes out. “Why don’t you go play in the yard a little longer. It’ll be bedtime soon.”
“But the bunny?—”
“It’s not a bunny.” Her gaze lifts but doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “We were talking about Ian’s hair. He wears it in abun.”
“Oh.” August scrutinizes me for a few seconds, taking in my hair I’ve tucked up. “I like that, too, I guess. But I’d like a bunny more.”
He hops off his chair and finds a kickball in the yard, Dutch up for whatever. Tess’s gaze is locked on them, her lips pulled tight between her teeth. She’s trying hard not to look at me, which makes the whole scene that much more adorable.
Shewantsto look at me. Because she likes my man bun.
An absolutely stupid thing to preen over, but I’ll take everything I can get with this woman.
“You’ve really got a thing for my hair.”
She makes a sound of mock exasperation. “Don’t gloat. It’s not a good look.”
I lower my voice and tip my head toward her. “That’s not what I just heard.”
She laughs but finally meets my gaze. I break out my most rakish grin—because yes, I will do whatever it takes to keep her thinking of me as a sexy pirate.
If I’m a pirate, her sharp intake of breath and soft “Oh” in response are all the treasure I need.
“That’s the Ian I remember.”
I go still even as my heart throbs at her words. For years, I’ve resented it whenever people brought up who I was in the past. It shone a light on a comparison I could never win. But this isn’t a better/worse scenario. She’s pointing out a glimpse of the man I used to be. Maybe he’s not completely lost in here, after all.
“About that. You said we’d never spoken, but you talk like you knew me well.” I’ve racked my brain these last two weeks trying to remember her, but nothing much comes to me from back then. I spent my days leading white water rafting tours about an hour north of here. Despite what Tess seems to think, I spent most of my nights crashed on Amy’s couch.
She shifts in her chair as if she might like to escape, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “You stood out.”
