The back door smacked open and even though the sound startled me, I wasn’t all that worried about an intruder. I was more worried about who it actually was. “What’s up, Ginger?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said in a sing-song voice that matched the mile-wide grin she wore. “What’s up with you?”
“Just making biscuits.” I didn’t bother looking up from kneading the dough, because I could hear the mischief in her voice and just how giddy she was to share whatever gossip was brewing since last night.
“I was at Black Thumb last night after the cook-off. Blowing off some steam and having a few drinks, you know?”
“That’s typically what bars are for,” I deadpanned and reached for the medium and the plus-sized biscuits cutters, doing my best to appear casual though something told me I might find this particular morsel of gossip a little interesting.
“Anyway, guess who else was there?” I didn’t guess, and Ginger groaned. “Fun killer. Jackson was there. With Andrea.”
That was her name. Of course, it was. She probably went by something sexy yet cutesy, like Andy, and wore backwards baseball caps with ease. “Good to know?”
“You’re really determined to suck all the fun out of me trying to get a rise out of you, aren’t you?”
I frowned. “I’m not sure I followed that.”
“Whatever. She’s a U.S. Marshal, and she came down here to get Jackson to rope the locals into taking a look a photo that is almost certainly Jarrod.” Why she bothered to whisper when it was just the two of us, I didn’t bother to ask. “Software that costs millions of dollars to recognize faces and she had to fly all the way down here to get the town’s help.” She shook her head, hair spilling over her shoulders.
I shook my head at Ginger and how similar we were at times. “Testing out quotes for the story?”
“And headlines,” she added before falling silent for a long moment. I let the moment hang, wondering if I had enough time to make garlic and herb butter and whipped honey butter for the biscuits before Maven showed up. “How did things go at the fair?”
I should have known that question was coming, but I was tired and a little emotionally raw, and Ginger was a professional. “Good. Jackson wasn’t annoying, and he actually put those muscles to use so I can’t complain. Except for Janey’s nonstop picture-taking—I can and will complain about that.” The woman was relentless, and I couldn’t even think of what kind of photos she had taken of me and Jackson under that small tent.
“Is that all?”
I debated whether or not to share the kiss with Ginger. She was my closest friend, other than Rafe, and I couldn’t share this with him without risking a lifetime of teasing. There were just some things you couldn’t tell your guy friend, no matter how close you were.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did anything else happen? A stolen glance or a charged moment?”
My eyes went wide with disbelief. “He told you!”
“Ha! I knew it!” She pointed at me, a look of triumph on her face. “I knew it. Spill it, sister. All the juicy details.”
“To a journalist? I’d rather take a bath in boiling barbecue sauce.”
“Thanks for the visual.” She held her hand up with a visible shudder. “Not to a journalist, a friend.”
“Fine. There was a kiss. A teensy little kiss that lasted maybe two or three seconds.”
“And? What happened after?”
“Nothing,” I sighed. “The hot brunette showed up and I left.” And Jackson hadn’t stopped me from leaving or tried to clarify the situation.
“Ha! What you mean is that you saw that smokin’ hot federal agent and let your insecurities get the better of you. Did you spend the night licking your wounds, too?”
Yes. “No. I said I should go, and he agreed. So, I did.” With four trays of biscuits ready to go, I put them each in the oven and set the timer before turning back to Ginger. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. It was a fluke. A stolen moment, nothing more.”
She folded her arms and leaned against one of the prep tables, since it was still early and she wasn’t in anyone’s way. “Why are you so sure about that?”
I let out a sigh and stared at this woman who was a newcomer to town but who had somehow become a friend. “Because we’ve already explored this particular attraction a long time ago. He was gone when I woke up and he hasn’t said a word about it. Ever.”
“Weird.” Ginger scratched her chin in a strange, almost TV-villain kind of way, and I got scared. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m on this.”
“No!” That was the last thing I wanted, using this town like it was homeroom and passing notes between mutual friends. No thanks. Besides all that, I didn’t want Jackson to get the mistaken impression that I cared. I didn’t. “Don’t say anything!”