Page 65 of Clearly Charmed

‘What do you mean by particular?’ I said, trying to keep my voice level.

‘He’s interested in the pharmacy because it once belonged to your ancestors. Wanted to know if we had any old files or historical records about the place,’ Fred said.

Shit. He was still chasing details about Ambrosia and Sylvia. I was glad he’d agreed not to talk about the town today, because I still hadn’t figured out a way to explain away the journal if he pressed me on it again.

‘We didn’t tell him a thing, because, well, when we bought the place all the business records began in the mid-1950s. Apparently, the earlier documents were lost in some kind of fire,’ Nora said.

Fire. I swallowed down the bile climbing up my throat.

Bryce handed over his money and turned back in our direction. Nora gave me a hesitant smile, tugged on Fred’s arm. ‘Take care of yourself, Dani.’ Her words were more of a warning than a kindness.

Bryce made his way back with his concoction in a red-and-white-checked paper bowl. ‘This looks really good.’

‘I need to go,’ I said haltingly.

He paused with the cookie halfway to his mouth. ‘No. Please stay.’

When I didn’t reply he looked in the direction Fred and Nora had gone.

‘They’re nice people,’ he said, setting his treat back into the paper bowl.

‘Is there anyone in this town you haven’t interrogated?’

‘Dani,’ he sighed. ‘Let’s not do this.’

‘You’re right. Let’s not.’

I started to walk away, but he caught my hand. ‘Please,’ he said with a weary breath. ‘We agreed to not talk about this. Today, I only want to experience the festival. Spend time with you. Can we do that?’

He was back to rubbing that delicate circle against my palm. Spending time with him was a bad idea. He was getting too nosy. Too close to things I didn’t want him to know.

He let go of me and gingerly picked up the treat, taking a careful bite. His eyes closed, and he made a low moan that was too much like our time in the truck. ‘Holy crap. That may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’ He smiled with a wicked little spark. ‘Well, one of the best things.’

Heat flared in my cheeks and he held out the fried cookie. ‘Want to try?’

His gaze flicked to my mouth and his eyes lit with anticipation.

How did I keep walking this sensuous line with him when I was supposed to be keeping my distance?

He waited, and I finally pressed my mouth around the edge. The quick breath he sucked in made me think he was reliving our time in the truck too. Using his thumb, he swiped a loose crumb from the corner of my mouth. It was the most basic touch, but it lit up every single one of my nerve endings like I’d touched a live wire.

‘I really want to kiss you right now,’ he said in a tight whisper. His hand moved to cradle my cheek. We were standing in the middle of the street, festivalgoers streaming around us, and all I could think was how I wanted his mouth on mine again. It was dumb. Reckless, especially after what Nora had just revealed, but that yank in my chest was too hard to ignore.

I began to lean in until my phone beeped, reminding me that this was nothing but a bad idea waiting to happen.

‘If you want to see the rest of the festival, we should go. I need to head back to the children’s tent soon.’

Disappointment flashed across his face, but he said, ‘Lead the way.’

Only a few steps from Mo’s tavern sat a white tent that was as long as the local high school’s football field. When we walked inside, Bryce came to a sudden stop, his mouth hanging open.

Ten feet in front of us on an elevated pedestal sat a squash that was nearly the size of a washing machine. On the next pedestal was a red radish as big as a baseball. He tore his phone out of his pocket and took at least a dozen photos.

‘Wait.’ I pointed in the direction of the granddaddy of them all: a pumpkin that was close to the size of a golf cart.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me! When you all talked about this at the meeting a few weeks ago, I thought the vegetables would be big, but not this big. How did the festival get started?’

This was a part of the town’s history I was happy to share. ‘In the early 1950s, we had a city councilman with a brother who lived in Alaska. He went to visit him one year, and his brother took him to the state fair. Part of the exhibits were these giant vegetables. Apparently, a decade before, the owner of one of the railroads offered a twenty-five-dollar prize to the farmer who could grow the largest vegetable. The councilman loved the idea. How it brought the community together. He pitched it to town leaders when he returned home, and in 1955 Harvest Moon had their first Veggie Fest.’