Page 21 of Apple of My Eye

This sheriff’s election has this town wound tighter than a cinch strap, and I, for one, will be thrilled when it’s over and folks can get back to focusing on more important matters.

Like who’s kissing who. And who’s pretending they’re not.

Until next time, Forest Grove… Try to behave yourselves.

Or don’t.

I’ll be watching either way.

xoxo,

Gossip Gal

#CowboyNight#ForestGrove#BarnDance#RodeoVibes #ApplesApplesEverywhere#WhatWillHappenNext

Chapter Seven

Knox

“They were mush,”Colt said, tearing into an apple fritter. Flakes scattered across the table as he talked, not bothering to brush them away.

The bell over the door at the Copper Cup rang the same way every time someone came in, the hinges giving a familiar creak before it swung shut again. I had one eye on Colt and one on the door, hoping Daisy might stop in before her morning appointments.

We liked getting coffee here anytime we had to come to town. The brand they served was perfectly strong enough to wake up—and a hundred times better than the grim reaper level stuff at the ranch. I sat at our usual table with Colt, Ash, and Jake while they argued over whether Eldon’s beans from the rodeo birthday party had overcooked or were just misunderstood.

“They weretender,” Ash shot back, comfortable in his chair with the patience that suggested he’d had this argument before and expected to win it, eventually. “There’s a difference.”

Jake snorted into his cup. “The difference might be in the texture, but they all exit the same way.”

I didn’t laugh as hard as the others; my attention drifted more than I let on. My body was there with boots planted on the worn wooden floor, but my head had been stuck back at the stable, replaying the kiss with Daisy endlessly.

Finally.

After months of circling, teasing, waiting for an opening she never quite gave, I’d taken one anyway—and she hadn’t shut it down. She hadn’t thrown up one of those walls she carried around like armor in my face, but kissed me back. And it was good.

Damn good. That had to mean something.

Didn’t mean it meant the same thing to her as it did to me.

The bell over the door chimed, and my attention snapped up. Daisy stepped inside, carrying a wooden crate of apples braced against her hip. She had shoved the sleeves of her barn coat and sweatshirt to her elbows despite the chill outside, like she’d been working hard since before the sun came up.

“Morning, Daisy,” I called, a little too eagerly.

“Hey guys.” She passed us by, straight to the counter where she set the crate down with a thud. A few strands of her red hair had slipped free from her braid. Any other man might overlook her, but not me. She was still the only woman I saw.

Harper and Sage greeted her from behind the counter. Both of them lit up at the sight of the apples as if Daisy had just delivered gold.

“Brought your apples,” she announced.

“I have so many recipes planned.” Harper reached for one and turned it in her hand, inspecting it for flaws she wouldn’tfind.

“I have two more crates for you out in the rig, but that’s all I can spare.”

“Only two?” Sage asked, her brow lifting slightly as she crossed her arms.

Daisy’s mouth curved enough to count as a smile. “I called the produce manager, the one Knox told me about. We worked out a deal. They want every apple as soon as possible.”

For a second, the room stilled, as if it needed a moment to catch up to what she’d just said. Then it hit all at once.