Oh, Fudge (Hot Cakes #5) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,8

and coats and gloves and when she’d told him that Appleby had about six inches of snow on the ground currently he’d admit that he’d felt a definite boyish rush of excitement. Maybe he could talk Paige into making a snowman or sledding or ice skating. He had no fucking idea how to ice skate, but he felt that was very winter wonderland-ish and that he might regret returning south without having at least tried.

And hot chocolate. He really wanted hot chocolate.

“But it involves a b—man?” Mrs. Asher asked.

“Mom, I said I have plans. I can’t help with an art project. That’s all you need to know.”

“I just care.”

“You’re just nosy.”

“I just think you could help your sister out once in a while.”

“I just think my sister could have figured out how to use her birth control before she had little people she needed help with.”

“Paige Elizabeth!” her mother gasped.

“You act like that’s the first time I’ve said that,” Paige said. Her tone was exasperated but also held a hint of amusement.

Mitch wished he could see her face.

“I’m always shocked when you say things like that,” her mother said, definitely sounding shocked. “I keep thinking that you’re going to get over this anti-marriage and family thing you have going on.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

She was anti-marriage and family? Mitch felt his eyebrows rise. A part of him liked that. All the women he knew back home were very pro-marriage and family. He was twenty-seven. The girls on the bayou had been trying to tie him down—or their mamas had, at least—for five years now.

His own family had laid off on that for the most part. Or the attention had been focused on his older cousins. Until recently. His cousins had all spent the past summer falling ass over boots in love. Even his new buddy, Chase, who spent most of his time in medical school at Georgetown, had found himself smitten, somehow. Mitch had really thought Chase would be immune. They’d had a hell of a good time partying together. But Bailey Wilcox had happened and Chase was now a goner too.

Now the attention had shifted to Mitch. No one had yet said anything like, when are you going to settle down? But if they knew he was up here visiting a woman he’d met in July and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, they’d all be very interested.

There were three things the Landrys believed in with their whole hearts. One, crawfish boils were the way to fix any rift, disappointment or broken heart. Two, everyone’s business was everyone else’s business. And three, falling in love was the ultimate goal in life… even if you had to do it a few times to get it right.

Mitch couldn’t help but wonder what his family would think of Paige. She was a yoga-doing-meditating vegetarian who clearly liked to keep her personal business personal. None of that would make sense to them.

And the Landrys would, most likely, horrify Paige.

He grinned thinking of it. His family was loud, and their idea of meditation was sitting in a boat and fishing without talking for twenty minutes straight. Other than swearing at the fish, and the fishing line, and the tree branches hidden under the surface of the water that messed with those lines.

He’d known Paige was a fling-with-no-strings girl. He’d texted her first and it had taken a couple of days for her to respond. He’d given up on hearing back from her by the time his phone had dinged with the message from her. The message that read I can’t believe you texted me.

He’d laughed and texted back—right away, incidentally, which might have been a mistake—and said, why can’t you believe it?

Because I’m not sending you naked photos.

I don’t need photos. I got a very good look at everything and I have a VERY good memory.

It had taken a few minutes after that and he’d wondered if he’d screwed up but then she’d replied, so what do you want?

And he’d had to really think about that.

Clearly, she hadn’t been thrilled to hear from him. She hadn’t been waiting with bated breath to see if he’d text or call. She hadn’t been flirtatious or encouraging in keeping the conversation going.

At first.

But as long as he was okay with twelve to twenty-four hours passing between messages from her, he did hear from her, and every damned time she made him smile.

He’d ask stupid shit like, what did you do today?

And she’d say, scooped