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“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and I almost believe him I want to believe him, but the pain is too raw

“I’lance back at the house and see lued to the panes in the front like this is better than football Myher turkey baster, and I sigh I feel about as defeated as the last bit of peanut butter stuck in the jar You want it, you can’t have it, and the only alternative is to get rid of the jar, longing for that last taste

“Come with me”

My eyes narrow “Where?”

“The tree lighting tonight”

Every year at eight o’clock on Thanksgiving night, our town does a holiday festival, lighting a Christoes and participates in the tradition along with spending titon as a whole is good for everyone in town knowing everyone’s business The last thing I want is to be the talk of the town

“I’,” I lie

Tank cocks his eyebrow this tioes It’s not like I have a real choice anyway Have youscarves

Tank sighs “All right, Beatrice How about you meet me for breakfast We can talk”

“No” I’m also quite stubborn

“No?”

“We’re notuntil I’ve had my first cup of coffee” I pretend to check my manicure

“I’ll buy you coffee with breakfast” He chuffs but it sounds like a frustrated growl and I hope it bugs hiant for sure

“You made me wait thirteen weeks for an explanation You can wait a few more hours and after I’ve hadTank the business, but not so grown up when he leans down and his minty, kissable breath brushes past my cheek He’s so close I could inch forward and feel his lips on my skin, but I don’t I stay as still as the statue in the town square

“All right, Honeybee, we’ll do this your way for now I’ll pick you up for breakfast, after your coffee, at oh-eight-hundred hours” He turns swiftly, leaving ne scent and crisp body wash I can’t place striding down the sidewalk like he frickin’ owns it