Diamonds and Dirt Roads

by Erin Nicholas

  Even if no one knew about it?

  From the street, they wouldn’t know that she wasn’t Ava, but seriously? Did the fact that no one knew that she and Evan were messing around make it better? And did it help that he wasn’t actually cheating on Ava? And did it make it okay that this was definitely not a usual relationship for Cori? She’d met Evan Stone two weeks ago. She’d never wanted a guy like this, flirted with a guy like this, kissed a guy like this, and not already slept with him. Hell, some of her relationships would be over by now. In the overall cosmic view of right and wrong and good and bad intentions and all of that, did any of these things really make it all right?

  “You knew it was me? Even before I kissed you?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Though I don’t mind you confirming it that way.”

  Cori looked up at him, hating that she loved that he’d known her. He wasn’t hers. Couldn’t be. At least for a few more months. And maybe not even then, really. Because going from one sister to the next would probably be scandalous too.

  On impulse, Cori gathered her hair in one hand, lifting it away from her neck. “Here,” she said, tipping her head and pointing behind her right ear.

  He leaned in to look, his warm breath caressing her neck and shoulder.

  She felt her body react, tingles skittering down her arm and her nipples tightening. She cleared her throat. “We each have our first initial tattooed behind our right ear. “

  He lifted a finger and traced the small C. Her tingles got tingles.

  “That’s really cute,” he said, his voice husky again.

  God, he smelled good. She resisted the urge to put her face against his chest and inhale deeply. And she gave herself more points for again resisting a very strong impulse.

  She let her hair drop. “Now you’ll always have a way of knowing. For sure. Just…in case.”

  He didn’t ask in case of what. For which she was grateful. Because she couldn’t say exactly. She just had this feeling that she really wanted to always know he knew her.

  “Our mom used to use a marker to put our initials there. It helped babysitters and our grandparents and teachers. We did the tattoos on our eighteenth birthday as a kind of tribute to her getting us to adulthood mostly on her own. We don’t tell many people.”

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Sure.”

  They stood looking at each other for a long moment. They were no longer touching but he was very definitely in her personal space. And she’d never wanted to have her body against someone else as much as she wanted to be up against Evan Stone in that moment.

  “And you knew who I was when you kissed me,” he said.

  “Of course. But they didn’t know who I was.”

  “They?”

  “The neighbors,” she said, waving her hand in the direction of Jason’s house.

  “Ah. And it wouldn’t be okay for them to think that you were Cori greeting me at the door?”

  She cleared her throat. “Just thought it was a good opportunity to further cement this thing between you and Ava.”

  “Ah. Well…thanks.”

  Finally she sighed. “Actually, that wasn’t it. I just…had to.”

  His smile faded and he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah?”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” So he was feeling the longing too.

  He nodded again. “And it makes it even more awkward to now ask if your sister is home.”

  That made Cori straighten. Right. The neighbors could think she was Ava. From a distance. But there would be a point where Evan had to actually be with the real Ava. “Yes. Right. Of course. She’s on a conference call. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Well, no.” He shifted his weight, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “We, um, need to go out. Me and Ava. We have to be seen together. In public.”

  “Oh. You’re here to ask my sister on a date.” Ugh.

  “Yeah.” He took a small step back.

  Double ugh.

  “Well, that is awkward.” Especially considering I want to strip down and introduce you to my pastry bags and decorating tips. Cori coughed. “I don’t know when she’ll be done with her call but—” Suddenly Cori wanted more time with him. It was like there was a timer ticking now that would signal the end of…whatever this was. “Do you want to have dessert and coffee with me while you wait?”

  Slowly he nodded. “I do. I really do.”

  “Are you okay?” He seemed pained.

  “Just kind of wishing dessert and coffee was a euphemism,” he said. “For which my answer would still be I really do, incidentally.”

  Cori felt heat curl through her belly and then dive into her panties.

  “And then I was feeling bad that I wished that,” he went on, cooling her down a little. “And then I was remembering that this thing with Ava isn’t really real. And then I realized that this—going for the feel-good stuff instead of the responsible stuff I promised—is exactly what I always do.”

  Wow, that was all…pretty much exactly how she felt. No matter how warm and tempted he made her feel, couldn’t she, just once, not give into her urges? Could she resist saying what the hell just one time? Apparently not, because Cori heard herself say, “But you just have to be sure Ava has some fun and doesn’t work all the time.” You don’t have to sleep with her. Or fall in love with her. Or even feel guilty about wanting to kiss someone else.

  “That’s true,” Evan said, his gaze on her mouth now as if he’d read her thoughts about the kissing.

  “And I’m not saying my s’mores pie won’t make you feel good, but giving me your honest opinion about a potential addition to the pie shop menu would be helpful. And helping someone out is responsible, right?”

  “I guess you’ve got a point.”

  “So we’re fine.” If Brynn painting with Noah wasn’t dating, then… Yep, there were loopholes everywhere. And she was honing in on every one of them. Typical.

  “I mean dessert with a guy who’s here to ask my sister out doesn’t count as a date for me, right?” Having a conversation with a guy in her kitchen over pie and coffee was definitely not a classic date scenario in Cori’s life. There would be a distinct lack of hard liquor, for one thing. And a lack of sexy panties—she had on plain white cotton tonight. And a lack of dirty dancing, NASCAR racing, and Tae Kwan Do instruction…which were the ways she’d met her last three boyfriends. Oh, and there would be a hell of a lot more talking. Even if her pastry bags and decorating tips were right there in the drawer by the oven.

  Evan shook his head. “Probably not.”

  “Probably not?”

  He paused, then his voice went a little lower. “Still kind of feels like a date.”

  Yeah it did. A pretty plain, sweet, she-still-wanted-it date. Cori shook her head and decided to lighten things up. Because light was definitely more her style. “Oh, that’s just because of the kissing. Kissing always makes things seem more serious than they are,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  But Evan didn’t take the lighten-up hint. Or smile. He just said, “Funny. Kissing is usually my go-to for keeping it casual.”

  She swallowed. Crap. Her too. Kissing was way easier than talking. “Well, I guess we could kiss in the kitchen instead of making conversation. If you insist.” She gave him a smile that she was sure looked as wobbly as it felt.

  “Strangely, I don’t think that will make this more causal.”

  Oh, boy. “Okay. What will?”

  “I’m not sure anything will.”

  How about dating my sister? Will that make things seem more casual between us? Talk about being out of her element. Cori never got too serious. If anything, she didn’t get serious enough in her relationships. Now this one…she couldn’t seem to pull back on the reins.

  She took a deep breath. “Pie is the only answer. It will make you feel like you’re giving in to all kinds of temptation, but you won’t have to make a phone
call in the morning.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re not a phone-call-in-the-morning girl?” Evan asked. Still not letting her lighten the moment up.

  “Oh, hell no, I’m not.” She laughed. She really wasn’t. She always wanted some space the morning, and day, and sometimes week, after.

  “And why do I also feel like you’re a girl I’d really want to call?” Evan asked.

  She swallowed. “Because you’re a contrary personality. Like me.”

  He took a few seconds, but finally he nodded. “Probably. Okay, let’s try the pie.

  7

  The girl had to start wearing a bra. That was the only solution.

  Evan watched as Cori stretched to reach into the cupboard for a plate, her short T-shirt pulling away from the black cotton pants that hugged her hips and ass, and found himself leaning slightly to the side on the stool. No way was that shirt going up above her breasts—the shape of which he now had permanently imprinted on his palm—no matter how high she reached, but damn, the idea of it almost put him on his ass on the floor beside the breakfast bar. That would have been hard to explain.

  “It smells amazing in here,” he said, trying to distract himself from the hard, little points that were poking against the bright pink words That’s a horrible idea. What time? on the front of her shirt.

  But if a girl wore something that bright, she had to expect people to look, right?

  She glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Thanks.”

  “You cooked?”

  “Chicken piccata,” she said as she turned to scoop a piece of chocolate pie onto the plate. “And s’mores pie.”

  She set it in front of him, but before he could reach for it, she picked up a blowtorch. It was a kitchen-sized blowtorch, but a torch all the same. She lit the end and touched it to the marshmallows on top, toasting them quickly. Then she set a fork on the edge and pushed the plate toward him.

  Evan couldn’t help it. He laughed and shook his head. “Even dessert has a little something extra with you,” he said.

  Cori shrugged. “I love toppings.”

  He picked up his fork, trying to ignore the way his body stirred. After their mini-make-out session on the porch, he wasn’t sure there was anything she could do that wouldn’t stir his body. And maybe even his emotions.

  “Toppings?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said.

  Then she tried, again, to kill him by leaning onto her elbows just across the bar from where he was sitting. The neckline of her shirt gaped, and the smooth, tanned skin drew his eyes. The breast and nipple he’d only gotten the briefest feel of were right there. And he noticed the shimmer. Holy shit, she was wearing shimmery body powder. That had to be it. Her skin glowed and yes, actually, sparkled in the warm light of the kitchen.

  “Toppings can make or break a dish,” she said. “I mean, without those marshmallows, that’s pretty much just chocolate pie. I could have drizzled caramel over it instead and it would have totally changed it. And toppings and sauce can change a chicken breast from piccata to teriyaki like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I’m all about the embellishments.”

  For some reason, that seemed like one of the most honest things he’d ever heard. Cori Carmichael was an embellishment. She seemed to make everything bigger and better. And yes, changed things. He couldn’t put a finger directly on what it was, but since the triplets had come to town, Bliss had seemed more fun. Nothing major had changed. The outside of the pie shop looked exactly the same, and they hadn’t opened to business again, so the interior changes weren’t obvious. The girls weren’t really out and about in town—much to the chagrin of all of the busybodies and gossips. Of course, the old men who stopped in for coffee every morning at the pie shop delighted in being some of the few people to actually have any amount of time with the Carmichael girls. And yet, there was something in the air, Evan could swear it. Something had changed slightly…and had gotten better when they’d come to town.

  “Try it,” Cori urged, gesturing at his plate.

  Right. Pie. He was sitting here eating pie with Cori while he waited for Ava. So he could ask her out on a date. That wasn’t weird at all. He took a bite of the pie.

  And holy shit. If he hadn’t been a little crazy about her already, that would have done it. He swallowed and looked up at her. “Damn, Cori, this is amazing.”

  Her face lit up, and for a second, Evan stopped chewing and just looked at her. The shimmery body powder had nothing on that sparkle in her eyes.

  “You think so?”

  He swallowed the bite. “Of course. How would anyone not think so?”

  She shrugged and straightened, wiping at something on the counter with her finger and not meeting his eyes. “Brynn and Ava didn’t seem impressed.”

  “Well, they’re probably used to you coming up with amazing things.” He took another big bite.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  That sounded completely sarcastic and he watched her as he chewed and swallowed again. “This is going on the menu?” he asked.

  She looked up. “I want it to.” Again, she lit up a little. “I have a bunch of ideas for new items.”

  It was one thing to be wound up after the kiss at the front door. And having the feel of her breast in his hand. The smell of chocolate and sugar that filled the air around him, the braless breasts with the look-at-me tips teasing him, the fact that even her T-shirt was sassy all made his I-want-that reaction make some kind of sense. But that excited, eager look on her face? Why did that turn him on? But he heard himself asking, “Like what?”

  She leaned in again, the skin on her throat and chest again shimmering in the light and drawing his eyes. Yeah, it was the sparkles. It had nothing to do with the cleavage. Or the memory of how she felt in his arms. Or the way her mouth touching his made everything in his body tight and hard.

  “Along with the Classics menu that would be the cherry, apple, and peach, we could do a whole kids themed menu too. Peanut butter and jelly pie, mac and cheese pie, corndog pie,” she said. “And we could do a soda fountain theme. Root beer float pie and orange creamsicle pie and I think I could even figure out a way to do a cherry cola pie.”

  Evan knew he was staring. But… “Root beer float pie?” Evan asked. “Peanut butter and jelly? Seriously?”

  For a second he saw a flicker of uncertainty cross her face and that made something else in him go tight. His chest. Or his heart.

  “Well, it’s just an idea,” she said, carefully. “I just like the idea of some unique promotions. Like the sweetie pie idea.” She looked down at the counter again. “But it’s a little much, probably.”

  He cleared his throat. It was a little much. But it was also creative and unique and clearly something she was excited about and totally and completely Cori. Which meant, he loved it. Fuck. “Can Ava pull all of that off?” he asked.

  Her gaze came up. And she looked disappointed. “Um…maybe. None of them are super hard. But—”

  “But?”

  “She doesn’t want to tackle anything new right now.”

  “Ah.” He could tell she was waiting for him to tell her that she could go ahead with those things. But Rudy had been very specific about why he’d chosen the job for each girl. And Evan was dedicated to making sure everything went the way Rudy had wanted them to. No matter how tempted he was to say fuck it. Actually, he should be more dedicated because he was tempted to say fuck it.

  “I guess the new stuff will have to wait.” Dammit, he hated that he had to pull Cori back here. But Ava had a lot to learn about products and customers, up close and personal. And Evan was beginning to suspect that Rudy had known how much Ava would struggle. And that it would be good for her. But what about Cori? What about staying out of the baking was good for her? Clearly, she had a passion, and talent, in the kitchen. This might all be good for Ava, but suddenly Evan was having a hard time caring about the woman who was supposed to be his girlfriend.

  And wa
sn’t that just typical? Something bright and shiny and fun came along and he forgot what he should be doing.

  “Yeah. But I’m hoping she’ll at least be open to adding blueberry to the classics,” Cori said, her enthusiasm definitely muted.

  Evan gritted his teeth against the urge to say you’re amazing, do whatever you want, fuck anyone who tries to hold you back.

  “Maybe that’s what your dad was going for,” he said. “To see if you could stick with it even if it’s not fun and new and exciting. Accounting definitely isn’t. But maybe that was his point—for you to care enough to do this thing anyway. Even the boring parts.”

  And if he thought a lot of that applied to him as well, he wasn’t going to go there.

  Cori took a breath, then nodded. “Maybe. I guess that makes sense.”

  He focused on the pie. The thing they were supposed to be talking about. Blueberry pie. Now there was the way to a man’s heart.

  “Tell me you’re adding pecan pie to the menu too and I’ll probably do anything you want me to do,” he said, shoveling in the last bite of s’mores pie.

  She didn’t say anything to that and he looked up. She was watching him. Well, she was watching his mouth. He pressed his lips together and swallowed.

  “You like pecan?” she asked.

  “Love it.”

  “Have you ever had chocolate toffee pecan?”

  He stared at her. “No. Is that real?”

  “It can be.”

  “Marry me.”

  There was a beat of silence after his teasing comment. Yeah, teasing. That’s what that was.

  Then she smiled. “That might be complicated since you’re dating my sister.”

  He nodded and forced a smile too. “True. Then I guess I need to hang on to that relationship ’til Thanksgiving so I’m invited over for family dinner.”

  It was supposed to be light and joking, but it didn’t sound like it. And there was a quick flash of something across Cori’s face. Something like jealousy?

  “I can make that pie in September too,” she said.

  September. When the six-month pretend relationship with Ava would be up. Cori knew it exactly without thinking. Had she added up when that would be over prior to this?