“His daughter is sixteen. She’s not a kid who doesn’t know her father probably wants to date and do all the other things that go with dating.” Remy wouldn’t have pointed her in Armie’s direction if Armie had a girlfriend. Honestly, she didn’t think Armie was the type who would cheat on a girlfriend. He seemed . . . honorable. He certainly didn’t seem like the type who would be platonic around a woman he wanted. He would be frustrating. Demanding. But the way he’d touched her the night before had told her the man would likely be very enthusiastic in bed. “I know this is the country, but it’s not Victorian England. Adults can sleep together without a bunch of societal consequences.”

“Except gossip,” Mabel pointed out. “And babies, if they don’t protect themselves. Ask Seraphina Guidry about that one.”

“Except gossip and babies and potential STIs.” She’d come here to live a nice, quiet life, but apparently she was going to have to make a little noise. And she was serious about a community discussion of STIs. They were completely avoidable, and she would be the one who would have to deal with all the nasty things that came with curing them. “If you have a problem with Armie, I suggest you take it up with him. If you think to punish me in some way for being attracted to a man you have no real claim on, then we should talk about that. Well, we shouldn’t because I’m not licensed to practice psychology. But I can refer you to a couple of great therapists.”

“I came here to be nice,” Miranda said.

Mabel shook her head and wagged a finger Miranda’s way. “You did not. You think I don’t know your tricks? Those are your chocolate chip cookies. They are your second-best cookies. Everyone in town knows when you want to impress someone or be nice to them you bake lemon meltaways. Everyone knows you consider chocolate chip to be for children and people with no taste buds.”

“I like chocolate chip.” The cookies hadn’t offended her. And she was hungry. Since she’d gotten to Papillon, she’d been hungrier than usual, the likely result of having nothing else to do. Usually she was so busy she forgot to eat. Now those cookies looked pretty good. Cookies couldn’t be full of malice. Poison, maybe, but she was willing to take the chance.

Miranda grabbed her tray with a shake of her head. “Well, I can see you are not going to be reasonable.”

She was. She was being entirely reasonable. She would entirely reasonably ask Armie about it later. If this woman thought she could make her run away and hide or something, Miranda would soon learn that there wasn’t a lot of drama she couldn’t handle. “Guess not. But remember about the gossip thing. Didn’t sleep with him. Yet.”