Queen of Men (King Maker 2)

My gaze landed on the picnic basket he carried. Getting to my feet, I wrung out the last of the dresses and strolled over to the indoor clothesline. Pinning the garment, I let my shoulders sag as my arms felt as if they couldn’t carry one more thing.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you,” he said simply.

It wasn’t that easy. I’d seen him earlier with Margaret.

“Let’s take a walk,” he said softly.

I could feel eyes on us, so I hustled out the side door of the center and into the chill of the mid-winter morning.

Golden fields of dormant crops were dusted lightly with remnants of yesterday’s snowfall. Beyond it was my family home, which was on the outskirts of town closer to the entrance. Our family’s primary means of contribution to the community was farming. It was our primary business and brought much-needed revenue to the community to pay government taxes and buy supplies and goods we couldn’t harvest, grow, or obtain lawfully from our own lands. However, my parents weren’t there.

They were most likely in the building where we kept harvested goods left over from the market times and prepared to keep for the winter.

Dead on my feet, I let Turner drag me across the land toward the creek. On the spot we’d spent the day before, we sat on a spread quilt, and he pulled out meat and bread after starting a fire.

“Do you think that was wise?” I finally asked as his fingers offered me a nibble of meat.

“What?” he said with a smirk that meant he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“For everyone to see us together?”

Before I said more, I accepted the tender meat that burst with flavor inside my mouth.

“I’m not married, and neither are you.”

He spoke so easily as if we didn’t live in a compound with rules that dated back to the eighteenth century.

I thought about my father’s warnings far too late. “Aren’t you courting Margaret?”

“I’m not in love with Margaret.”

He hadn’t exactly answered, and I wasn’t completely sure how I felt about it.

“Is she in love with you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never lied to her. I would have married her a few years ago if I wanted that and she knows it.”

His hand came up with another offering, and with the absence of a response I took it. The bread was slightly sweet but rich and buttery too. My tongue accidently snaked across his fingers as he glided them out of my mouth. His eyes met mine and I could feel his burning gaze. As much as I hated it, Kalen continued to hover in the back of my mind.

To break the tension, I asked, “Who cooked this?”

With a wolfish grin, Turner said, “I did.”

That surprised me. “Since when did you become such a great cook?” The Turner I knew was treated like a king as were all the males in his family. Thus, cooking had never been his chore.

“Since becoming a bachelor.”

Because I was one of the reasons he still remained unmarried, it made the moment awkward.

“It’s okay, Bails.”

I didn’t want to rehash one of my not-so finer moments. Yet, I found myself repeating what I told him the day before, “I was afraid you’d ask me to stay.”

With patient eyes, he watched me for a second. “Would you do it again?”

It was a good question. Had spending over three years of my life in a wasted relationship with Scott been worth it? I hadn’t really loved him. I stayed with him out of some sense of duty and honor to my family for my perceived sins. Then again, had I not been with Scott, I may have never met Kalen that fateful night. Would I go back and stay with Turner?

“No, not the same way,” I said honestly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

I read into his half-smile that he didn’t entirely believe me. But he reached into the basket to pull something else out. Out came a palm-sized strawberry tart, my favorite. Delight filled me. I hadn’t had one of these in ages. “Your mother?”

He nodded, and I took the proffered dessert from his hand with relish. I bit into it like a woman possessed. It tasted like heaven. And I might have moaned out loud, because Turner laughed.

“There are more,” he teased.

I slapped at his arm playfully, careful not to drop the last bit of tart. “These are the absolute best.”

It was true. The woman was gifted with baked goods. They were French bakery worthy according to my tongue despite the fact the strawberries weren’t fresh but from preserves.

Somewhere in the middle of lunch, we found that casualness between us. It was easy to be friends again, transported to a time and place when we had no cares about our future.

For the second day in a row, I sat close to a man I would always love. The question was if I was still in love with him. As much as I wanted to be, how easy it would make my life, Kalen snuck in my head like a stealer of my heart. I needed those feelings to go away, and fast. The way Turner looked at me, he would be asking the question about the idea of us far sooner than I would be ready to answer.