At least not more than I already was.
“Parrish, honey, I think you’re—”
My phone rang, the trilling sharp in the otherwise quiet house, and I frowned as I stepped to the island and saw Diesel’s name on the display.
“Hey,” I answered. “I’m leaving in two minutes so I can be there to help you get Marigold dressed. Are you almost—”
“He’s here,” Diesel hissed over the sound of Marigold crying. “I was only wearing underwear when he knocked on the door and started peeking in the sidelight, Parrish. Jesus Christ. And then Miss Thing woke up with a runny nose, and her diaper is a hazardous waste situation. And I told him he could have a seat on the sofa, but he said he’d wait outside, but I swear to God he’s down looking at the chickens, and writing things in his notebook, and where are you?”
I took a deep breath and projected a calmness I legitimately only felt when I was talking to Diesel. “Babe, it’s fine. We’ve got this. Change her diaper and get her into that pretty dress you got her. Get her a bib too, because you know how drooly she is when she’s stuffy. I’ll be there in five minutes.” I snatched my keys off the counter.
Miss Sara shoved the entire muffin basket in my direction, and I grabbed it with a grateful smile.
“And I’m bringing muffins.”
“You’re pretty far away from town out here,” Terry, a little man in too-baggy pants, said, leaning forward in his rocking chair and adjusting his glasses for the seventeenth time in five minutes.
A breeze blew across Diesel’s freshly painted front porch, spreading the mouthwatering scent of Miss Sara’s muffins and the coffee Diesel had brewed, and I noticed that Terry relaxed slightly as he inhaled a big lungful. There was a crispness in the air, like fall might actually come eventually, and the entire scene felt homey and comfortable, with the baby jumping up and down in her little exercise dish, and Terry, Diesel, and I sitting in brand-new rocking chairs I maybe happened to haul home from World Market yesterday.
By which I meant hauled to their home. Here at Diesel’s house. Which was not my home.
Obviously.
“We like to think of it as being far away from dangerous car traffic.” I gave a delicate shudder. “Right, honey?”
“Yep,” Diesel agreed. “Plus, we’ve got a huge, fenced-in yard for her to roam.”
“And the elementary school is just a quarter-mile walk through the tree farm next door, which will be so convenient in a few years! Have another muffin, Terry? And maybe some more coffee?”
“I really shouldn’t.” He glanced down at the wreckage of the pumpkin muffin currently on his plate.
“Miss Sara’s baking is famous in town. No one would blame you for indulging,” I said with a wide smile.
“Oh, go on, then.” He held out his plate for another muffin from the basket, and I obligingly refilled his coffee cup.
I made sure Diesel got a second muffin too, because the poor man needed it.
By the time I’d gotten here earlier, he’d had Marigold completely clean and tidy and drinking her bottle. He’d also managed to locate himself some pants and a shirt. But he’d looked more frazzled than I’d ever seen him. Not to mention, the way he was glaring at Terry like he wanted to challenge the man to a duel for invading his home was both hot as fuck and also not winning us any friends.
“So, Mr. Partridge, you’re new to town.” Terry took a big bite of the muffin, closed his eyes, and contorted his face into such a profoundly orgasmic expression, I couldn’t help but glance at Diesel, who was already looking at me in horror. I could tell by the look in his eye that he was fighting laughter as hard as I was.
Diesel busied himself checking on Marigold, and I turned my attention to Terry. Fortunately, we’d practiced the answer to this question.
“I suppose so, officially,” I said confidently. “But Diesel and I met last year when I came to town with my uncle Beau. We’ve been dating since November.”
“Dating?” Terry asked sharply. “I thought you were engaged.”
I blinked. “Well, yes. I-I-I mean, we’ve been together since November. We’ve been engaged since July.” I could feel my cheeks going hot.
“Sure,” Terry agreed, but his eyes narrowed. Was he suspicious? I thought he looked suspicious. “And what did y’all do for Valentine’s Day?”
Valentine’s Day? It had never even occurred to me to plan for this question. My heart started beating too fast, and I felt myself getting flustered.
I frowned and looked at Diesel, who answered easily. “I went up to Nashville to surprise him. We ate at a little restaurant… what was the name of it, baby?”
“Uh… Starbucks?” I blurted.
My eyes widened. What the hell was wrong with me?