Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I hop-step away from him just as my mom reaches the top platform. Her eyes go from him to me and then back to him, and she smiles. Holding out a large box, she says, “Here are your shortcakes. Do you want me to put them on a tab, or would you like to pay now?”
“You didn’t have to bring those all the way up here, Mrs—” She scolds him with a glare. I know that look very well. “Peaches,” he corrects. “I was just about to come back down.”
“Figured you kids were having a nice visit, but didn’t want you to forget your order.” She glances at me with a proud grin. “I know my Lauralee can be distracting.”
“She sure can be.”
I shoot him my own glare, but that wry grin sitting satisfactorily on his face tells me he has no regrets whatsoever. He’s going to give this away if he’s not careful.
Feeling more awkward than ever, I put out my hand to rest on the peninsula but miss the counter and slant sideways. Quick to catch myself, I ask, “Shortcake, you say?”
Catching the amusement on Baylor’s face elicits my embarrassment that he caught my major miss as well as my mom. She says, “Everything okay?”
Inwardly rolling my eyes at myself, I try to shake it off and try again. This time looking anything but nonchalant as I use the counter to hold me up. “Fine. Totally fine. Great. Incredible.”
Baylor starts shaking his head, looking down under the lightest chuckle. Even he knows I’m struggling, so he says, “Let me take those from you, Peaches.”
My mom grins like he’s her knight in shining armor. I can’t say he doesn’t make me feel the same. His mouth on mine made my heart thunder in my chest. There’s still a rumbling, though having your parent interrupt like you’re two teenagers trying to sneak around and have sex put a slight damper on our momentum. That and the renter. I check my watch. He’s late.
She says, “Baylor here was so sweet and bought all the shortcakes for his family.”
He takes possession of the box. “Don’t want to show up empty-handed when I have the best dessert in the Hill Country to bring them.” Glancing at me, he says, “Delicious shortcake.”
I could crumble to the floor like the pound cake that plays second fiddle to the fresh strawberries. His words are so devilishly delectable, I eat them right up and am ready for seconds.
I need to get a grip. Not everything has an underlying sexual innuendo, though that absolutely did. “Well,” I start to break up this mess of a conversation and walk toward the door to shuffle them out. “We should get out of here before our reservation shows up.”
Baylor says, “I’m the reservation, Shortcake.” Both of us dart our gazes to my mom to see if she caught the nickname. He holds up the box, and adds, “Shortcakes need to be delivered to the ranch.”
But I’m still stuck on the other thing he said. “What do you mean you’re the reservation? A Mickey is listed.”
“I thought you were joking earlier.”
“About?”
He comes closer, but the way he moves so fluidly across the floor makes me wonder if it’s the volition of our connection instead of this conversation. “I thought you were just giving me a hard time.” He sets the box next to me on the counter. “Mickey is my assistant. He booked it for me. My name should be listed somewhere.”
I look from him to my mom. “Did you see Baylor’s name listed anywhere?”
“No, I just looked at the bill paid section.”
Taking my phone from my purse I’d set on the floor nearby, I pull up the reservation app and read over the details. Baylor chuckles before crossing his arms over his chest. My eyes slide from the screen to him. I’m not sure why relief comes over me, but my shoulders drop the tension and slight panic that had begun to build over this potential error. “Mickey was on the credit card. Baylor Greene is listed in the notes as the guest.”
“Happy to be the first guest.” His smugness is easily detected, but that smirky smirk says it all.
“If you hadn’t been sneaking around to make a reservation, I would have given you a discount.”
“I’m happy to pay full fare.”
I shrug and set my phone down. “If you say so, money bucks.”
He looks at my mom, and says, “I’ll come down and pay for the shortcakes.”
“I have the bill downstairs when you’re . . .” She glances between us once more as if she realizes she might have interrupted something, then walks to the door, throwing her hands up. “When you’re ready. No rush on my account.”
Oh lordy. I won’t hear the end of this unless I come up with a darn good cover story. As soon as she’s gone and we hear the last of her steps down the stairs, we still wait until the door to the shop slams closed.