Harvest Moon - By Robyn Carr Page 0,42

about me for at least a few weeks. I’m going to take full advantage of it! Now, come on,” he said, leading her farther into the house until they got to the great room. He sat on the couch and pulled her down on his lap. “Let’s make out until you have to go to the farmers’ market.”

She let her fingertips run through the reddish-gold hair at his temples, very sorry she’d suggested the shirt. “I shouldn’t stay another minute. I think you’re taking advantage of my vulnerability.”

“I hope to eventually take advantage of everything you have,” he said. He pulled her down until they were reclining on the couch. Then he started kissing her, which he had lately become even better at. Then he began to sneak his hand under her shirt. “I have an idea,” he said between kissing. “Let’s let these out for a little while.”

“Are we making love now?”

“Not yet,” he said. And his hand found the front clasp to her bra, popping it open. First his hands and then his mouth found her naked breasts, and she not only moaned in pleasure but arched toward him. “See? Yet another thing we have in common—I love your breasts and you love that I love them.”

“I thought we should talk about your movie and the implications…” she said, but she said it with her eyes closed.

“We can talk about that later. Right now I want to talk about your perfect nipples and how right they feel in my mouth…”

There was one fatal flaw in Kelly’s notion to inform Lief there was no reason for them to get any closer than they were, and that was that when he kissed her and touched her, everything inside her went soft and sloppy and she wanted to take her clothes off. She hadn’t gotten completely naked so far, but if he kept doing that kissing-touching thing, with the tongue and lips, it was just around the corner. After all, she hadn’t been properly loved yet. And he kept promising she wasn’t going to find it a waste of time. She ached for more of him.

Kelly felt a little flush, and her lips were tingling as she drove to the farmers’ market in Eureka. In fact, other parts of her body were still tingly, too. He certainly was getting good at that make-out thing. And while she was supposed to be thinking about what she was going to pick up at the market, instead she was thinking about how close to him it made her feel to have cried over his movie and then have recovered from it in his arms.

She was still surprised she’d had the willpower to leave his house, and he’d had the willpower to let her go.

But she needed stock. Or she couldn’t cook.

It being past mid-October, the farmers’ market wasn’t as crowded as she supposed it was in August when all the produce was in, but she was surprised by what she did find. She grabbed a wagon and started shopping. Given the moderate weather, there were late peaches, pears, plums and lots of lemons and limes. She was pretty stocked up with large boxes of the fall fruits, something that would keep her very busy with jelly and preserves, when she was sidetracked by a woman offering samples.

Kelly stopped at the booth. “Hi,” the woman said. She lifted a plate. It was covered with crackers topped with cream cheese and a green jelly. “My pepper jelly. Help yourself.”

Kelly took a small bite, her tasting technique. It immediately sparked on her taste buds. “Mmm! Wonderful!” she said before taking a second bite.

The woman smiled. She was about Kelly’s height, blonde and maybe early fifties. She had a lovely, welcoming smile and warm brown eyes. “Thanks. I’m proud of it.”

“It’s really fantastic.” Kelly lifted one of the jars. It had a nice little label, probably put together by the local print shop. Laura’s Pepper Jelly. She helped herself to another cracker. “How long have you been doing this?” Kelly asked.

“A couple of years. I just come out twice a week. And I put some jelly at the co-op.”

“Ah. Health-food co-op?”

“Right.”

“What’s in this?” Kelly asked.

“Green peppers, jalapeños, sugar, honey, apple cider vinegar—pretty simple, really. After I made my first batch, people started trying to buy it from me, so my husband made me some labels and told me I should sell it. Why not, huh?”

“Is it pretty complicated, selling processed food at the farmers’ market?”

“Well, there are permits

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