Jolie Vines

“Frowning, she warmed up the scone she’d saved for Callum. “I could get a pop-up camper to pull behind my truck. When I get a truck, of course. That way, I could move my house every few days and experience different views.”

“You’re not living in a camper.” He bit into the scone and chewed angrily.

“Excuse me.” The female half of the eavesdropping couple took a step closer to the counter. “Are there any more of those scones?”

Lou pasted a regretful smile on her face. “Sorry, no. This was the last one.”

“I didn’t see it in the display.” The woman scowled. “I specifically asked if you had any scones, and you said you were out.”

“I had to hold this one back. It was defective.”

“Defective?” Her eyes darted between Lou’s expression of fake sympathy and the small bite of scone Callum hadn’t eaten yet. “It looked fine.”

“I licked it.” Lou heard Callum choke on the last piece of scone, but she couldn’t look at him or she would start laughing. If his airway was blocked, he was going to have to give himself the Heimlich.

The woman’s suspicious expression didn’t ease. “Why did you let him eat it then?”

“Oh, his tongue is in my mouth all the time,” Lou said sweetly, and Callum’s coughing increased. “I didn’t think he’d mind my germs.”

With a sound of frustration, the woman stormed out of the shop, followed closely by the male half of the couple. The bells rang merrily as the door closed behind them, as if celebrating their absence.

“Sparks,” Callum rasped once his coughing died down. “You’re going to kill me.”

“But what a way to go.”

“True.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her closer and leaned across the counter. “Now give me some of those germs.”
― Katie Ruggle, Hold Your Breath