at 6:58 in the morning, Tammy would give birth to a seven-pound, two-ounce, nineteen-inch baby girl.
Word spread all over town. The fortune-teller instigated an uprising over at the Cut N Curl. Seems she’d thumbed her nose at modern medicine by predicting Tammy Wright would have a girl when the doctor said she’d be having a boy.
Cherry had said she’d take her case to the people; now Jason knew what she meant. She sure had a talent for making a big splash. And for making his life miserable.
He needed to put a stop to this now.
He found her at the Dairy Dream, an ice cream and burger joint with a blue-and-silver, moon-and-stars theme. Rikki particularly liked the glow in the dark stars on the navy ceiling.
Cherry sat tucked up in a booth in the corner. She read a book, a romance by the look of the cover. She wore blue jeans and a white, off-the-shoulder peasant shirt. Her waves of dark curls were subdued into a loose braid.
Little fool, didn’t she understand she risked the people turning on her? Courtesy of the Swindle, he’d dealt with angry crowds more than once. The thought of Cherry facing down a mob turned his blood cold. She might act tough, but he could span her waist with his hands and her long, slim neck, enticingly revealed by the wide-necked shirt, had a decidedly delicate look to it.
He slid in across from her, stretching his long legs in front of him. She glanced from the page to him. Immediately, pleasure lit up her eyes and she flashed him a smile.
Whoa Nellie. He took the impact right in the gut. God she was beautiful.
In the next instant, she returned her attention to her book, carefully marking her place and setting it on the banquette next to her. She shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit Indian fashion. When she looked up again, the intensity of her welcome had dimmed. Those lovely dark chocolate eyes were once more guarded and her smile held a rueful edge.
“Good evening, Mayor.” She pushed her fries toward him. “You look like you need something to gnaw on. Have a fry.”
“I’m not here to chew you out.” He reached for a golden fry dusted with crystals of salt. He grunted. Nobody did burgers and fries better than the Dairy Dream. “Hey, Stan,” he hollered over the noise of the patrons, “bring me a burger to go with these fries.”
Stan, the owner, waved an acknowledgement. Jason pulled his wallet out and set a five on the table. He helped himself to another fry.
“Well, you’ve been busy.”
She shrugged and the sleeve slipped lower on her shoulder exposing creamy skin. He tried not to look, not to be tempted. Not to want her.
He had his daughter, his mom and his sister to care for and keep him company, and the town to keep him busy. That’s all he needed, all he could handle.
His boring life suited him fine. In fact, he’d worked hard to achieve boring. Losing his wife had been brutal, facing each new morning alone was difficult, raising his daughter alone was hard. So yeah, he savored his peace.
Giving in to his attraction for this woman threatened the balance he’d fought so hard to achieve.
He dragged his gaze back to Cherry’s face and his mind back to the matter at hand.
“You’re causing an uproar in my town, Ms. Cooper.”
“Since we’re getting to be so cozy—” she reached for a fry, dipped it in ketchup, then bit it in half “—call me Cherry.”
“Cherry. That’s an unusual name. Especially since I know your real name is Blossom.”
She cleared her throat. “My mom named me after the city I was born in so I could always find my way back to her. She died giving birth to me here in Blossom City. I had red hair when I was born. My grandmother called me Cherry Blossom. The Cherry stuck.”
“Okay, Cherry.” The pleasure the small intimacy gave him was probably not a good thing. “You’re causing an uproar in my town.”
She smiled and pointed a fry at him. “You have the power to change that.”
“You’re playing with fire. These people have been hurt. There’s no telling how they’re going to react to your shenanigans.”
“What’s wrong, Mayor—”
“Jason.” He interrupted. “Call me Jason.”
“Jason.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid I’m going to prove myself?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.” The truth in his statement surprised him. When exactly had he moved over to her side? No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t taking sides. He was keeping the peace.
“What happens when you don’t win the baby pool? You’re going to be seen as a fool. Worse, people are going to be reminded of the Swindle and they’re going to take their anger out on you.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m going to win the baby pool.”
He thought of his wedding ring, found under the nightstand on the right of his bed just as she’d said. Maybe she could win the pool. “Winning may be worse for you than losing. Then it’ll be another fortune-teller taking their money again. You can’t win.”
A teenager with an unfortunate case of acne brought over Jason’s burger. The boy scooped up Jason’s five.
“Keep the change, Johnny.”
The boy grinned and snapped the five taut. “Thanks, Mayor.”
Cherry waited until the boy left them alone before claiming, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure? Have you ever dealt with a mob? It’s not pretty.”
Totally calm, she responded, “That won’t happen.”
“You don’t know that.” He bit into his burger.
She simply gazed at him from those fabulous, knowing eyes. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He didn’t have to be psychic to know he wasn’t getting through to her.
“Where’s your grandmother? She usually travels with you doesn’t she?”
Surprise followed by wariness flashed across her fine-boned features. “She does, yes.”
He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. “Will she be joining you soon?”
“No.”
Again, nothing followed. “You know for a woman who makes her living talking with people, you aren’t very forthcoming.”
She leaned forward, her forearms bracketing the cooling plate of fries, her eyes intent. “Do you want your fortune told, Jason?”
Did she think to intimidate him? He leaned toward her, his arms framing hers. “Is that the only way you allow someone to get close? By reading them?”
She held her position, though he saw it cost her. “I don’t get close to those I read. It gets in the way of my sight.”
“So who do you get close to?” Now why did he ask that? Hadn’t he just lectured himself on the need for objectivity around this stunning gypsy? “You don’t have to answer that.”
She shrugged one nearly bare shoulder, then casually retreated back into her seat. “My friends are the carnies we travel with.”
It couldn’t be more clear where her loyalties lay. “So it’s all an act when you’re making nice and getting buddy-buddy with the townspeople? Just a means to the end? It all comes down to the money, doesn’t it? And you wonder why I don’t want you in the fair?”
“I don’t wonder at all.” She grabbed her book and purse and scooted to the edge of the bench seat. “It’s obvious you’ve made up your mind about me. Well, I won’t apologize for my profession.