Page 68 of Slow Burn
Cole shrugged. “Developers want acreage. As the big real estate guy around here, he’s approached a lot of locals. Even me.”
“You?”
He shrugged. “Fifty acres makes for a nice-sized, cookie-cutter neighborhood.”
“Fifty acres.” She shook her head, still struggling to picture it. And, damn, could she. The roughness of his palm against hers told a story of hard and loving labor, and she could see him pouring it in.
“It’s small.” He shrugged.
She snorted.
“The house,” he clarified, drawing a full laugh from her.
He gave her a grin as they drifted toward the dessert table.
Jocelyn eyed the selection, lingering over a classic lattice-top apple pie. “If only there was ice cream,” she murmured.
“A damn shame,” Cole agreed.
“If it needs something with it, it ain’t worth the vote.” The older man proctoring the table scooted over to them, leaning over as if sharing some secret.
Jocelyn didn’t recognize him, and he smiled at her like he hadn’t the faintest clue who she was, either. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
“That’s my cousin Ellie’s pie,” the man continued, his wrinkled brow folding. She expected him to beam with pride, but he looked concerned. “I worry she mixed up the sugar and salt when baking this thing. Don’t taste right.”
Jocelyn laughed, drawing a smile from both men.
“What’s your favorite then?” Cole asked.
“Uh-uh!” A new voice chimed in, a woman Jocelyn also had never met.
“You’re in trouble now, Clyde,” Cole said under his breath.
“You can’t sway anyone’s vote. That’s called cheatin’.”
“How’s it cheatin’, Dottie? It ain’t like I’d win if I give my opinion.”
Cole and Jocelyn exchanged an amused look as the woman marched over.
“It’s voter tampering,” Dottie retorted, planting her fists on rounded hips. Thin, wispy hair was twisted up at the back of her head, the shiny silver locks held in place by a rhinestone barrette.
“I’m just saving them a little time,” Clyde argued, turning back to Cole and Jocelyn. “The five toward that end are the only ones worth votin’ on.”
“Clyde Johnson!”
The pair continued their bickering, and Cole’s hand landed lightly on the small of Jocelyn’s back so he could nudge her down the table. She glanced back at the couple, who were now engaged with a new set of taste-testers, and Jocelyn caught the way Clyde surreptitiously gestured for them to head on down the table as well.
Cole’s hand pressed against her back again so she turned back to what was before them. But it was impossible to taste thedesserts when all she thought about was the way her skin ignited under his touch. She scrawled a vote blindly, spinning to face him just to break the contact and give her nerves a break.
He leaned close to grab his own slip, his smile soft enough to steal her breath. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. She sidestepped instead.
He looked up from writing on his paper. “You keep dodgin’ like that, folks’ll think I’m trouble.”
It took her a moment, but she found her footing, even if it was a little unsteady. “Aren’t you?” She raised a brow.
He straightened, folding his paper as a sly grin curved his lips. “Definitely.”
A breathy laugh escaped her, and she turned to search the crowd as a distraction. She recognized some faces; others were foreign. To her surprise, not many glances lingered on her the way they once had. Maybe they couldget used to her being here.
