“The farmer’s market here is amazing,” Nathan said, ignoring her compliment and disappearing inside as he called over his shoulder. “You should come with me tomorrow.”
Jessica sat down, using a fork to nudge aside the berries and steal a few blueberries from the bottom. She hadn’t eaten them in years, and the sweet tartness made her taste buds explode, flooding her mouth and making her crave more.
She watched Nathan make his way from the door to the table again, holding another bowl. There was no denying how handsome he was—hair tousled and slightly messy, skin tanned no doubt from the hours he’d been spending outside. It was a weird feeling, but there was something nice about knowing that the hours he’d spent on horseback had been with her granddad. That he’d been the person her grandfather had seen everyday.
“This,” he said, “is coconut yogurt. Believe me when I tell you it’s the best thing you’ll ever eat.”
Jessica couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Coconut yogurt? Next you’re going to tell me that you meditate all day.”
“Well,” he began, a serious look on his face. Then he grinned straight back at her with a playful expression that masked any hint of sadness. “I’m just trying to stay healthy, that’s all. Eating clean food, cooking and exercising, doing the things I neglected for too long.” He chuckled. “But I haven’t taken up meditation and pilates just yet.”
Nathan nudged the yogurt in her direction and she dipped her spoon in, taking his word for how delicious it was going to be. She licked her spoon and then ate the lot, eyes opening wide at the flavor.
“Oh my god, it is incredible.”
“Told you so,” he said, a smug look on his face. “That’s the passion fruit one, my favorite. Although it has nothing on the chocolate coconut ice cream.”
She took a mouthful of everything together, nodding, as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you’re on to something with this health kick.”
Nathan made a noise in his throat that she couldn’t decipher before answering. “A heart attack will do that to a guy.”
She almost dropped her spoon. Did he mean him? Surely not. “You mean your father or someone else close to you?”
He shook his head, looking at her from across the table. “Nope. Me.”
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