Page 17 of Flashback
He smelled pie.
Shesmelled like pie.
No. He took a deep breath. The house smelled like pie.
Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and followed his nose. He found the source of the delicious aroma in a box on the kitchen counter.
He poked around a little.
Four. He counted four pies. And the scents in the air told him there was cherry, apple, and pumpkin in there. Were they mixed, or was it one of each and an extra?
Rylan was about to lift the plastic cover on the top of the pile of pies when Mazey came up beside him and slapped his hand away.
“Hands off. They’re for the barbecue.”
He whimpered. He loved pie.
“No touching. If you want some before we go, I can cut you a piece from one in the fridge.”
Okay, now he was going to cry. “There’s more pie?”
“Cherry or apple?”
“Is that a trick question?”
Laughing, Mazey pulled a knife from the block on the counter, a plate from the cupboard next to his leg, and then a pie from the fridge. “Cherry it is then.”
Oh god, he really was going to cry. The aroma filling the air intensified as she cut into the pastry. When she’d sliced a decent wedge and placed it on the plate, he all but dove on the offering.
Flavor exploded on his tongue with the first bite, and he shoved a second chunk in his mouth and muttered, “Marry me,” around the sweetest, most delicious pie he’d ever eaten.
She laughed at him. “That’s two proposals in one day.”
The pie turned to sawdust on his tongue. He swallowed, the lump of pastry and fruit scraping down his throat. “What?” He glanced at her left hand. She wasn’t wearing a ring.
“You and Alyssa.”
He wanted to cry in relief now. Obviously, their coworker had had the same reaction as him to Mazey’s pies. “Oh? And did you accept?”
“No.” She sighed, giving the action a dramatic flair by slumping against the counter and pressing her hand over her heart. “Alas, it seems neither of my suitors is serious. How could they be without the necessary proposal accessory.”
“Huh.” He spooned another piece of pie into his mouth.
“A ring. Neither of you thought me worthy of a ring.”
“Here.” He reached beneath his shirt for the dog tags he couldn’t seem to stop wearing. “These are just as good.”
“I can’t take those,” she argued as he pulled them over his head.
“Sure you can.” He put down his plate so he had both hands free. “You’d be doing me a favor. I can’t seem to stop wearing them, and I should, so if I give them to you for safekeeping, I won’t be tempted to put them on.”
“But—”
“Then when I’ve broken the habit, I’ll get them back,” he added as he slipped the chain over her head, making sure he didn’t get it tangled in her ponytail. He grinned when the tags came to rest between her breasts. Breasts he noticed were now confined in a bra. “There. You get those. I get pie.”
Picking up his plate, he ate the rest of the delicious baked cherry treat. He could tell she wanted to argue some more, and her hands kept curling and uncurling at her sides as though she were struggling to keep them from reaching up to remove his gift.
Grinning around the last mouthful of pie, he waggled his eyebrows and declared, “We’re engaged now.”
