Recipe for a Homecoming

by Sabrina York

  It was tough for him to imagine anyone growing up without a pet to love, and it had been pretty clear that she wasn’t comfortable at first, but it hadn’t taken long for her to warm up to them. Even the drooling. In fact, she might, in time, become as fanatical about the pups as he was. No one could fake the delight in their laughter when all the dogs, well, dog-piled on her with kisses.

  He was distracted, his mind full of cheerful thoughts, as he turned from the drive and followed Danny and his family back into the big house, so he didn’t expect a hand to reach out and grab his arm as he passed DJ’s office. Naturally, he started, but then relaxed when he realized it was Sam.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  She frowned. “Good afternoon.” And then she added, “Get in here.”

  It was Mark’s turn to frown. “Get in here...please?”

  “Please.” A growl.

  Mark had no idea why Sam was annoyed with him, but he knew her well enough to comply, so he stepped inside the office and closed the door. He suppressed the shiver that hit him every time he was in this room. Before it had been DJ’s office, it had belonged to his grandfather, and still had the same old oppressive air. Back then, the only occasions Mark had been hauled in here were the times he’d been in trouble. He’d never felt comfortable in this room.

  “What is it, Sam?” he asked, though he had an inkling. She wanted the scoop. Sam always wanted the scoop.

  “What happened last night?”

  He gazed at her with innocent eyes. “We texted you. Remember? It took longer than we thought to get everything done.”

  “So you slept over?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He averted his gaze.

  She rolled her eyes. “I think we both know what’s going on.”

  He bit back a grin. “Do we?”

  “I see the way you look at her. I see the way she looks at you. Are you and Roni a thing?”

  “She looks at me?”

  “Don’t avoid the question.”

  “How does she look at me?”

  “Really?” Sam made a growling noise when she realized she wouldn’t get him to answer her. “All right, fine. She gets all googly-eyed.”

  He couldn’t hold back his grin. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. Now spill.”

  “There’s nothing to spill. Roni and I are just friends...”

  “Friends who have sleepovers?” He didn’t respond, so she took another tack. “I deserve to know what’s happening because I’m the one who set you two up.”

  “Well, thank you for that,” Mark set his hands on his hips. “But what happens between the two of us is private.”

  Sam blew out a breath. “Oh, right. All of a sudden Mark Stirling doesn’t kiss and tell?”

  “When have I ever told?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Is there a point?”

  His sister blew something else out. It might have been a bad word. “Yes. You don’t know about everything Roni’s been through. You can’t just treat her like all your other women.”

  “I don’t have any other women.”

  He probably shouldn’t have said anything because Sam jumped on that like a duck on a june bug. “Aha! So you admit it.”

  “Admit what?”

  “You said you don’t have any other women. Which infers you have Roni.”

  Irritation prickled on his nape. “Sam. This is none of your business.” And, when his sister opened her mouth to rebut, he held up the hand. “Not. Your. Business.”

  “I’m your sister. I worry about you.”

  “Me?”

  Her expression turned solemn, which rarely happened. “You know you’re getting more involved with Roni...”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She looked hesitant, for a change. “But there are things about her you don’t know.”

  He doubted that, but forced a smile. “Whatever that may be, don’t you think I should hear it from her?”

  “But, Mark. What if she...hurts you?”

  A harsh laugh bubbled up. “If you were so all fired worried about me, why did you set us up in the first place?” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “You can’t feel responsible for whatever happens between us from now until eternity because at one point, you invited both of us to lunch at the same time.” He was trying to illustrate how ridiculous such a prospect was, but she didn’t get it.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Sam. Relax. Roni’s the only one who knows the details of what she’s been through. I can’t blame her for setting limits if she needs them.”

  “What do you mean...limits?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What kind of limits did she set?” And then, when he didn’t answer, she said, “Mark. Someone is going to get hurt here. I just don’t see how this isn’t going to end in disaster.”

  “Like what?”

  “She’ll want more?”

  He barked a laugh. Good.

  “You’ll want more?”

  He swallowed the laugh and it caught in his throat. Maybe he already did want more. Picket fence. Babies. The whole deal. Everything.

  She stared at him, taking in his telling expression. “Oh, no.”

  Oh, yes. “Sam, I want that woman in my life, however I can have her.”

  She lurched back as though his words had burned her. “You sound like you’re in love with her.”

  Love? Where on earth had Sam come up with that idea? He wasn’t yet sure how he felt about Roni, but love was a little extreme considering how long they’d been an item—if you could even call it that. Wasn’t it?

  Sam gaped at him. “Oh, hell. You are, aren’t you?”

  He raked his hair, sighed heavily. “Sam, just quit, okay? We’re...happy. With whatever this is, now. Can’t you just be happy for us, too?”

  “What if she never changes her mind? What if she never wants to get married? Like ever?”

  Mark shrugged. “Then we’ll be old friends together.”

  “But don’t you want kids? You’ve always loved kids.”

  His shoulders slumped. “I suppose we’ll deal with that as it comes.”

  Sam shook her head. “Mark, I love Roni. I do. But I think you’re setting yourself up for a broken heart.”

  “It’s not going to end that way,” he said in a tone intended to close the discussion. And it did. But it couldn’t keep him from wondering whether he really knew what he was talking about after all.

  * * *

  Roni thought she was prepared for opening day, but she wasn’t. When she came downstairs early, just because she was so excited, there was already a line outside. Granted, Gwen, Tiffy and Charlie were just there to make sure she had some customers—which was so sweet—but they still walked away with a bag of breakfast pastries. Gwen offered to stay and help when she saw more people lining up, but Roni politely demurred because, frankly, she was too busy to also keep an eye on a pair of almost-three-year-olds. “Come back this evening,” she suggested. “We can chat.” She turned to the twins. “And I’ll introduce you all to Snoopy.”

  The twins hooted with joy, and quickly got hustled out by their mother. But Roni had little time to reflect on the matter, because the next customer—a middle-aged cowboy with a full mustache and a hungry look in his eye—stepped up. Gram, who’d come downstairs and taken a seat at one of the little tables, greeted him with a chipper “Howdy, Merle.” Roni didn’t know why she was surprised; she should have suspected that Gram would know just about everyone in town. Thank heaven she was there, because a steady stream of future regulars continued like that for several hours. In addition to the newbies, DJ and Sam came by with Dorthea, then Crystal, then Lizzie and Danny. It was practically a party when they all crowded around Gram and ate their treats.

  At one point wh
ile they were there, a woman walked through the door and, for a second, all conversation stopped. Just...stopped. She was a beautiful woman, whoever she was—no doubt she stopped conversations often, just walking through a door—but she clearly did not belong in a humble bakery in this humble town. Roni wasn’t the fancy type, but she knew a Gucci purse and couture dress when she saw them. And the skin of this misdirected socialite was so flawless, Roni was certain she must have it vacuumed every morning.

  She stepped up to the front of the line—the gentlemen waiting let her—and took in Roni. From head to apron. A tiny line lifted on her forehead, then she turned her attention to the display case. Her nose twitched several times and then, in a soft, well-modulated tone, she ordered a small black coffee, took it and paid without so much as a thank-you, and then swept from the premises. As she walked down the street toward a red Corvette, she dropped the cup and its contents into a trash can. Roni only noticed because she was watching. Then the woman turned around and glanced back. When her smile unfolded, it sent a shiver down Roni’s back.

  “Who the heck was that?” she asked Sam when she came to the counter to refill Gram’s teacup.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Sam said, waving a hand. “That’s just Sophia.”

  She looked like a Sophia. “How do you think she gets her hair into a swirl like that?”

  Sam shrugged. “Lacquer?”

  “She threw her coffee away. She didn’t even drink it.”

  “That’s because she only stopped by to look at you.”

  “Me?” A squeak. “Why?”

  “Can’t you guess? She used to date Mark.”

  Roni’s eyebrows shot up. Her body heated. Her fingers curled. “That woman? That woman dated Mark?” It was hard to hold back a sharp laugh. Those two were about as opposite as two people could get.

  “They didn’t date for long. It was never going to work, anyway, because Sophia wanted to remake him in her image. I think she imagined they’d be the reigning king and queen of Butterscotch Ridge or something.” Sam sighed. “She never really got over him.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Yeah. I’m real broken up about it.” Sam was deadpan, but Roni knew better. “She could have been my sister in-law.” She shuddered.

  “Yeah, but just think. You could have been a princess...or something.”

  Sam snorted. “Or something. Yeah.”

  Shortly after that, there was another surge and the Stirlings left to make room for new customers, promising to come back again soon. Thank the good Lord Roni had baked extra items and frozen them, because the goodies she had on display were gone before noon. At one point, she had the brilliant idea of taking orders for tomorrow—everything from fresh bread to cakes to ginger cookies. She tried not to panic as she saw the box of orders filling up.

  Had she really worried there might not be a need for a bakery in this town?

  Ye gods.

  Her heart leaped when Mark walked through the door. He gave her a quick kiss and asked what he could do to help. Because Gram was chatting and laughing with a circle of friends on the bookstore side, Roni immediately set him to work clearing the tables and tidying up, and when that was done, he refilled the display case for her while she manned the front counter. It was great having another set of hands, but, honestly, Mark was much more than that. He would walk past and murmur little encouragements as she worked. He even flirted with Gram’s friends until they dissolved into octogenarian titters. But, hey, a hot guy was a hot guy no matter how old you were.

  And, yes, Roni made sure to tease him about his new entourage.

  The crowd petered out at around 4:00 p.m., which, she decided, was closing time. “Thanks for being here,” she said to both Gram and Mark as she turned the sign and closed the door. “You were both great help.”

  Gram snagged the last molasses cookie, one Roni had been saving for her. “That was fun,” she said. “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun. But now I need a nap.”

  “It was the opening, Gram. It probably won’t be this busy every day.”

  Gram sent her a grin. “We’ll see. Mark, you should stay for supper, since you were so much help.”

  “Why, thank you, Milly.”

  Her smile widened. “Wonderful. I can’t wait to see what you make.” And before he could respond, she went upstairs. Apparently, she didn’t close the upper door, because Snoopy immediately came tearing down the stairs in a manic series of clickity-clacks. Oh, not to see Roni or Mark, or anything that would show his devotion to them. He came to smell what he missed. Apparently, the scents were fascinating.

  Mark laughed and pulled Roni into his arms. “I am so proud of you,” he said. “You did great. I knew you would.”

  Roni gazed up into his eyes and sniffed a little. “I’m proud, too.” She set her palm on his cheek. “Mark, I’m so happy. Thank you for...everything.”

  “I didn’t do much.”

  “You did more than you know.” She glanced at the box of orders and sighed. “Although I think I’m going to need more help.”

  Mark chuckled. “I agree, but don’t look at me. DJ’s a little sore that I ducked out this afternoon. They’re moving one of the herds over to the lake because the stream dried up.”

  Roni’s heart clenched. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Probably.” He pulled her close again and kissed her forehead. “But it happens every summer about now.”

  “I would hate to think I’m keeping you from your work.”

  “It’s just for today. Besides,” he said with a grin, “I wanted to be here for you.”

  “Aww. That’s sweet.” She thanked him with a kiss. “Tell DJ that you were a lot of help today. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

  He leaned against the counter and nibbled at a lemon poppy-seed muffin. “You would have managed. You always do.”

  “Sure,” she said. “But it is so much better not to have to manage all alone.” And, yeah. It hit her. She really needed to hire some help. Today had been successful only because Mark and Gram had been here to back her up. “Do you think Lizzie would be interested in a job?”

  He shrugged. “She does the books for the ranch, but maybe. I’ll ask her when I get home, but remember, if you hire Lizzie, you probably get Emma for free.”

  Roni had to smile. “I’d love that.” Though it would be only afternoons for Emma now that school was starting. She would be a charming hostess.

  “So what do you want to do, now that your work for the day is done?” Mark asked in a sexy voice. Roni was pretty sure of what he had in mind, and to be honest, she wanted that, too. He was too tempting by far. It took almost everything in her to gently push him away.

  “Mark, I’m a baker. I’ve only just begun to work for the day.”

  He glanced at the door and the Closed sign. “Umm...”

  She chuckled and handed him the box by the register. “Here are the orders for tomorrow. Could you write them all out on one list so I know how many of each to make tonight?”

  “Tonight?” A squeak.

  “Mmm-hmm. Oh, and be sure to note who each order is for. I don’t want to get them mixed up. While you’re doing that, I’ll start laminating the pastry dough.”

  “Laminating the pastry dough?” His expression was priceless. She had to laugh.

  “If you’re a good boy, I’ll teach you all my secrets.”

  “Laminating the pastry dough?”

  She laughed again. He was adorable. He’d be even more adorable once she got him into an apron. “It’s fun. Trust me.”

  He blew out a breath. “All right, Veronica James. I humbly place myself in your hands.”

  Chapter Eight

  For Mark’s entire life, roles on Stirling Ranch had always been very clearly defined, according to his grandfather’s
preferences. Men worked the ranch, and women took care of the house. Sam was the only one who’d been able to cross the lines, and that was because she was so damn good at what she did, the old man didn’t complain. But Mark had never really been able to break out of the limitations that had been set for him, because he’d never been allowed to explore what was outside those parameters. So he hadn’t even really realized what he’d been missing...until now.

  Now, thanks to Roni, he saw how wrong his grandfather had been.

  There was so much joy in mixing batters and doughs, and watching them poof up in the oven. And, all right, he liked tasting the finished product, still warm from the baking sheet, as well. It wasn’t only fun, but damn cathartic, too.

  Hell—he freaking loved baking.

  He had so much fun baking with Roni that Gram came down to see what the heck the racket was...and to remind him about dinner.

  He hated that they had to take a break, but he knew he needed something other than sugar in his system, and he was pretty adequate with grilled-cheese sandwiches. While he made the sandwiches, Roni whipped up a salad.

  After supper, Gram went to watch the news while Mark and Roni went back to the bakery. Roni let him make cupcakes. She showed him how to cream the wet ingredients first and then add in the dry for the first batch, but when she moved on to cookies and let him handle the second batch of cupcakes himself, he forgot to change the beater on the mixer and ran it too high, so a cloud of flour erupted. It went everywhere.

  It even scared Snoopy, who hightailed it to the divan, where it was safe.

  But Roni just laughed. “This happens sometimes,” she said, and then went on to show him where he’d gone wrong.

  The thing he loved the most about baking, however, was the end result. After the cupcakes came out of the oven and had cooled, it was time to frost them using a pastry bag. Mark was nervous about this part, and the first time he tried, he did a pretty sloppy job. It hardly looked like anything that could go into the pastry case for sale.

  Roni set aside his monstrosity and said, “This one is for us,” then positioned herself behind him, took hold of his hand and showed him the motion he needed. “That’s good,” she said, clearly lying, after his second try. He shot her a sardonic look. “All we need to work on now is the pressure.” She stayed with him until he got it.