Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“You’ve got this,” he whispers. “No one bakes like you, Taylor.”
“You sure you’re not biased?”
“I’m a proud husband, that’s for sure. But my taste buds don’t lie.” He bends to press a soft kiss against my lips and wraps his strong arms around me, enveloping me in a big bubble of security and peace. Since our heart-to-heart, he’s let go of the barriers, and everything feels different.
As I draw away, Jesse’s back with empty hands. “Are either of you planning on helping me?” he grumbles.
Maverick lowers Molly and Clint and lets his arm fall from my shoulder. “YES, SIR!” they both yell, putting their hands to their foreheads in a military-style salute. Jesse mutters an expletive under his breath, and Molly wags a finger at him.
“Jesse said a bad word. You’ve got to put a dollar in the jar.”
“Bad Jesse,” Maverick grins.
“Come on, boys. It’s time to get this show on the road.”
“Don’t forget your business cards and order forms.” Clint points to the pile near the window.
I slap the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I swear I need to write a list. My brain is cooked.”
“Baked,” Maverick corrects.
“Exactly!”
I watch as Molly helps Maverick balance two boxes of cakes in his arms, her expression so happy, I could cry just looking at it. I worried so much that she’d hate the situation, I brought her into and that she’d think less of me for loving three men and sharing their beds, but she loves them as much as I do. She sees their gentleness behind their rugged exteriors and has settled into this life with as much speed as I did.
When we arrive, the farmers market is quiet. Early stallholders are already setting up, but it won’t open for customers for another hour or so. Molly traveled with me in the T-M-B delivery truck, and Maverick followed us with Jesse and Clint.
Tables are provided, and I meet with the organizer to find out where my stall will be.
He ticks me off on his clipboard and shows me a two-table pitch. The first thing I do is cover the tables with my pink tablecloths and hang my sign across the front. When I’ve been doing this for longer and I have some money in the bank, I’ll order an overhead banner kit for additional impact.
My gorgeous, supportive cowboys and sweet, helpful sister begin to shuttle all the cakes, pastries, and pies, and I organize the display, marking everything with pink labels and price tags. There are four flavors of muffins, four flavors of brownies, six different types of cakes, cookies, sweet, fruity pastries, and savory pies. I find the boxes and bags and set out a little wrapping station at the end. There’s so much to think of, and I’m flushed and hot before a single customer arrives.
When everything is ready, Jesse stands facing the stall with his arms folded across his chest. He’s like a proud father, exactly the kind of father I wish I’d had. He’s given me all the encouragement and support I should have received from my parents to achieve my dreams. I couldn’t be more grateful.
“I need a photo of this,” he says, searching for his phone.
“Molly,” I call, waving her over.
She shakes her head. “Just you, Taylor. This is yours.”
My heart swells with love and gratitude as I tip my face, hold out my arms, and beam my biggest smile. When Jesse snaps enough pictures to be certain he’s got a good one, my first customer arrives, and my dreams become reality all over again.
22
MAVERICK
DARKNESS TO DAWN
“So you’re here to sing?” Audrey beams across the bar, leaning seductively on her forearms. Her top is cut low, allowing her cleavage to practically spill out, but I keep my eyes high.
“Yeah. Don said it’d be okay.”
“You any good?”
I shrug. This was Taylor’s idea. Since she heard me play my guitar and sing, she’s begged me to look into playing for a proper audience. “You’re going to find out soon enough.”
She smirks. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Whiskey.” It’ll slide down nice and hot and take the edge off my nerves. Plus, there’s something about it that makes my voice huskier, which will fit with the kind of songs I’m playing.
I take my whiskey back to where Beth and Taylor are sitting. They got here early so they could get a table near the front. Dressed in a pale green blouse and fitted jeans, Taylor is glowing. She laughs at something Beth said and drags her hair over one shoulder, exposing the elegant length of her neck and the pretty sweep of exposed tan skin. No longer so easily reddened in the harsh sunlight, she’s been helping us plant a garden of fruits and vegetables to use in the kitchen, and the sun has given her a golden glow that makes me want to lick her all over. In fact, I did plenty of that last night.