by Liz Isaacson
“Just fine, ma’am.” To his surprise, he found himself smiling. He supposed Pasty couldn’t control her daughter any more than Jeremiah could.
“Looks like you’re planning a big meal.”
“Yeah,” Jeremiah said. “Skyler’s coming home from college on Wednesday. Everyone’s coming for dinner.”
“I hear you’re a good cook,” she said.
“I’m decent,” he said, though he knew he was a good cook. Movement caught his eye near the customer service desk. A dark-haired woman came out the door there, and it took Jeremiah less than a blink to realize it was Whitney.
He sucked in a breath. Molly said something, but he had no idea what. White noise sounded in his ears, and all he could do was stare.
As if in slow motion, Whitney glanced in his direction. She didn’t look long enough to truly see him, and she turned away a moment later, clearly not recognizing him. She set a basket on the ground and reached for a poster on the bulletin board near the exit.
Somehow, without even knowing it, Jeremiah had walked away from Molly and toward Whitney. He breathed, and he got a nose full of Whitney’s perfume. “Hey,” he said.
Whitney turned, barely looking at him. She jerked back to him, her eyes widening. “Jeremiah.”
Even with the shock in her tone, he wanted to hear her say his name over and over again. “What are you doing?”
She just stared at him, almost like he was the one who’d gone silent four months ago.
“Jeremiah?” Molly said, and he turned back to her mother. She’d finished with his groceries, and he wanted to pull out his wallet and toss it at her. Instead, he looked back at Whitney.
“Don’t disappear, okay?” He backed up a couple of steps, just making sure she didn’t bolt for the door the moment he’d finished talking. She didn’t, and he returned to the check out counter to pay for his cart full of groceries. “Thank you, Molly,” he said as she flipped off the light on her check out station.
Jeremiah pushed his cart toward Whitney and watched as she stapled a new poster to the board. This one was the usual newborn picture. A darling, sleeping baby, probably only five or six days old, this one nestled among bright flowers—tulips, crocus, and bluebonnets—and tons of greenery. Vegetable greenery—kale, cabbage, and butter lettuce.
“Do you know Lake Winters?” he asked, indicating the poster.
“Not well,” she said evasively.
“Why would anyone want a picture like that?”
Whitney stood back and looked at the poster. She stepped down the bulletin board a few feet and took down a flyer for a cooking class that had happened last weekend. If Jeremiah had known she’d be there, cleaning up the bulletin board, he wouldn’t have come. Or maybe he would’ve made sure to come tonight.
He honestly didn’t know.
“I think they’re sweet,” she said. “The baby photos.”
“I guess,” Jeremiah said. “I think they’re weird.” He wished he could bite back the words. He didn’t want to argue with her. Or even disagree. He had so many questions for her, but he couldn’t ask any of them, with her mother only a few feet away, and the store about to close.
He pushed his cart behind her and leaned closer to her. “If I called, would you answer?”
Before she could answer, the main lights in the store went out, leaving only the glowing light of emergency lights. “You should go,” she said, which wasn’t the answer he wanted.
He had so much more to say, but he simply did what she wanted. He left the store, holding his head high as he marched away from her.
Every step tore at him a little more, but he clenched the pain tightly inside him. Cinched it close to his heart as a reminder that he couldn’t trust women and that he would be just fine with only ranching and cooking in his life.
He would.
Sneak Peek! Jeremiah’s Bogus Bride Chapter Two
Whitney Wilde’s heart pounded in her chest for several long minutes after Jeremiah had walked out the door. Not only did she not like being in the store by herself, but that man was her biggest regret.
Would you answer if I called?
Whitney had wanted to blurt yes. Yes, I’d answer.
But then she’d have to tell him why she’d stopped answering. Humiliation burned through her. She just wanted to forget about Blake Thurston, the man that was like a recurring nightmare in her life.
He’d come into her life years ago and swept her right off her feet. That relationship had only lasted eight months. Then he’d broken up with her to go to farrier training. But he’d dropped out of that and worked as a loper for a horse farm in Oklahoma instead of returning to Three Rivers—and Whitney.
When he’d come back to Three Rivers, Whitney had fallen for his charms again. This time for only five months. Then Blake was off again, this time to Florida for some other job. And he’d come back just after the New Year, after a nine-month absence.
And Whitney had been sucked into his charms again. She had a horrible weakness for the man, who made her feel beautiful and sexy and like she was the only woman for him. Maybe she was—but only until he got bored of his job, bored of this town, bored with her.
Her heart wailed as it continued to pump, and she looked up at the new poster she’d just tacked up of her latest spring newborn shoot. Jeremiah’s words spiraled through her mind, and she seemed to be able to remember every single thing the man had said to her.
So he didn’t like the baby photography. He wasn’t the only one. But somehow, his opinion carried more weight than anyone else’s, and she could never tell him she was Lake Winters now.
Carrying the pseudonym was getting tiresome, and Whitney just wanted to put her own name on the cards and stop maintaining two websites, two phone numbers, two of everything. She wasn’t sure why she’d wanted to keep the baby photography separate from her regular stuff in the first place.
Oh, wait, yes, she was. Blake had suggested it, and Whitney seemed to think everything the man said was made of pure magic. Whitney had done what he said. She wore what he liked. She laughed at everything he said. When he called, she answered.
She hated the person she was when she was with Blake, and she was glad his time in Three Rivers had only lasted eleven weeks.
Embarrassment and humiliation had kept her from texting Jeremiah, though she had a wedding that would be perfect if it were out at Seven Sons. But she didn’t want him to think she was using him, because well, if a man did to her what she’d done to Jeremiah and then called about using the ranch…she’d think they were using her.
And Jeremiah was a smart man. A very smart, very handsome, very sexy man. Scratch that. Better than a man. A cowboy.
Whitney’s breath whooshed out of her lungs, and she started piling everything into her basket. Her mother had left when she’d turned off the lights, and Whitney didn’t normally like being in the huge supermarket alone. She went up the stairs with her supplies and into the office on the second floor.
With another sigh, she collapsed into the office chair there and looked out the one-way window that showed her the store below. Eerie shadows draped across the ends of aisles and mounds of oranges and other produce.
She simply sat, trying to figure out what she wanted her life to be. In Jeremiah’s absence, she’d turned thirty-six, and her mother had spent the entirety of Whitney’s birthday dinner talking about boyfriends and marriage and babies.
Things Whitney wanted, sure. Of course. She simply didn’t have anyone knocking down her door.
“But you do,” she muttered to herself. “Kind of.”
If Jeremiah called, Whitney would answer. The problem was, he wasn’t going to call. Whitney could feel it way down deep in her soul. You have his number, she thought, her gaze sweeping across the meat department.
Her stomach grumbled, but she made no move to get up and feed it. She didn’t want to order another meal to be eaten alone. And she certainly wasn’t going to cook tonight. She’d most likely drive
through somewhere in town and eat it in her car, tossing the bag into the outside trashcan on her way into the house.
She’d sit in front of her computer and edit the senior pictures she’d done yesterday. Exhaustion moved through her body, because she’d booked six more seniors for that week alone. Tonight was the only night she didn’t have anyone to shoot, and she had one in the morning on Saturday and one in the evening too.
She loved March, April, and most of May because she was so busy, but she hated them at the same time. Senior pictures and weddings paid her bills, though, and she didn’t want to be ungrateful for the business the Good Lord sent her.
After all, if her photography couldn’t pay the bills, she’d have to work at Wilde & Organic full-time. While she loved her family, she sure didn’t want to be here with her parents, her older sister, and one of her older brothers.
No, thank you, Whitney thought. She liked getting together for Sunday lunches and holidays. She went and saw her sister a couple times a week, but that was more for Dalton than Patsy.
Whitney opened the desk drawer in front of her, because Michael kept his favorite chocolate candy bars there for when he had a full day of paperwork ahead of him. He’d never miss one among the dozens he kept there, and Whitney wondered how he managed to eat them and stay trim and fit.
All she had to do was look at a bowl of macaroni and cheese or a plate of ribs and she’d gain ten pounds. Since Blake had left, Whitney had been eating potato chips or chocolate and counting them as meals, so she did carry a few extra pounds.
Her mind didn’t seem to be able to settle onto any one thought, and she finally got to her feet. She moved her basket to the top of a filing cabinet, so Michael wouldn’t get irritated when he arrived in the morning.
Whitney herself needed to be here in less than twelve hours, so she checked her pockets for her keys and headed downstairs. She hadn’t parked out front, and she had to walk through the shadows to the back exit.
Her skin caught a chill as she hurried through the frozen section, and by the time she made it to the black, plastic door that led into the warehouse behind the storefront, she was almost running.
The exit lay directly in front of her, and Whitney exploded through it, though the darkness beyond wasn’t much more comforting.
She’d parked right beneath the bright outside light on the building, and relief spread through her as the heavy, metal door slammed behind her. Whatever phantoms that had been chasing her through the store had been sealed inside. She turned back to make sure that door was locked, because if she didn’t, and a robbery happened, she’d never be trusted in the store again. Her siblings already gave her sideways looks for how little she was involved in the family business, but Whitney had never minded.
With the door locked, Whitney turned back to her truck.
A man stood there.
Whitney sucked in a breath and screamed as loud as she could, spilling backward toward the door she’d just checked.
Her eyes didn’t leave the man standing next to her driver’s door, his cowboy hat bathing his face in darkness. He lifted both hands and said, “Whoa, it’s fine. It’s just me.”
Even through her distress and the echoes of the screams, Whitney’s brain connected the dots and “Jeremiah?” came out of her mouth.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry.” A nervous chuckle came out of his mouth. “You have no idea how long I sat in my truck, trying to decide if I should go on home or wait to talk to you.”
She pressed her palm against her chest and sagged against the door behind her. “Jeremiah,” she said again as if she needed to convince herself that it was him and not someone else.
He hadn’t taken a single step away from her truck, and a healthy distance remained between them. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I….” He closed his mouth and ducked his head in that adorable way he had, and Whitney straightened as a smile touched her mouth. Maybe her first smile in a long time, actually.
“I’ll let you get on home,” he said. “I know you’re busy right now.”
“How do you know I’m busy right now?” She took a step closer to him, then another one. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but she fought against a shiver.
“Uh, maybe I spend too much time on social media.” He raised his head and looked right at her.
A thrill shot through her bloodstream with the sight of those beautiful, intense, dark eyes holding onto hers. “You’re right. I’m shooting a lot right now.”
“So if I maybe called during the day, it would be better?”
“Did you circle the store and pull behind my truck to wait for me to ask me when you could call?” Whitney teased, glad when the ghost of a smile touched his lips. She’d never had the privilege of kissing that mouth, but oh, she wanted to.
Thank goodness it was dark and the overhead light there threw shadows around, because her face heated to a dangerous level.
“You still stockin’ shelves here in the morning?”
“I do the produce section,” she said, stopping just out of reach from Jeremiah. Their whole relationship had been like that. He was always just out of her reach.
But closer than he’s been in a while, she thought.
“I’ve told you that so many times,” she said, shaking her head.
“That’s what I meant,” he said. “What time do you finish filling up the produce section?”
“Before we open,” she said. “Daddy wanted everything pristine for the very first customer. Michael has adopted that stance.” With only a couple of other grocery stores in town, Wilde & Organic didn’t have a lot of competition, but her family wanted to provide the best experience. “I usually have to work in the back a little bit before I’m really done.”
“So ten-thirty?”
“Closer to eleven before I leave here.”
Jeremiah leaned against her truck like he wasn’t going anywhere. “Do you always come tearing out the back door like the devil himself is chasing you?”
Whitney heard all the flirtation in his voice, and if she could see those eyes more clearly, they’d be sparkling like pure diamonds. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Mm hm,” Jeremiah said. “Well, maybe I’ll call tomorrow then.” He straightened and held her gaze for one more moment before circling toward the hood of her truck.
“Maybe?” she asked when he’d reached the far corner. She could barely see the light glinting off the chrome on his big, black truck. It seemed to melt right into the night, and Whitney promised herself in that moment that she’d never come to the store after dark and stay alone again.
Jeremiah looked over his shoulder at her. “You have my number, too, you know.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll use it tomorrow then.”
He grinned, tipped his hat, and continued to his truck. It purred as he started it, and he backed away from her vehicle. He didn’t leave though, and Whitney hurried to get behind her own steering wheel and get the engine turned over.
She preceded him out of the parking lot, warmth moving through her like her momma had just pulled her favorite blanket out of the dryer and draped it over her shoulders.
“Please let him call tomorrow,” she whispered to the sleepy town before her. She tilted her head back and added, “Please, Dear God. Give him the courage to me call tomorrow.”
And if the Good Lord could do that, then Whitney would somehow find the strength to answer the phone when Jeremiah called.
JEREMIAH’S BOGUS BRIDE is coming soon! Preorder it now!
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About Liz
Liz Isaacson is a USA Today bestselling author and a Kindle All-Star Author. She is the author of the #1 bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, the #1 bestselling Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series, the Brush Creek Brides series, the USA Today bestselling Steeple Ridge Romance series (Buttars Brothers novels), the Grape Seed Falls Romance series, the Christmas in Coral Canyon Romance series (Whittaker Brothers and Everett Sisters novels), the Quinn Valley Ranch Romance series, the Last Chance Ranch Romance series, and the Seven Sons Ranch in Three Rivers Romance series (Walker Brothers novels).
She writes inspirational romance, usually set in Texas and Montana, or anywhere else horses and cowboys exist. She lives in Utah, where she teaches elementary school, taxis her daughter to dance several times a week, and eats a lot of Ferrero Rocher while writing.
