“Three words. Tulip Facebook page,” she laughed. “Best damn entertainment ever. Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure,” I grumbled. “What brings you by, Agent?”
And just like that, she was all business again. “Jarrod’s been spotted in Mexico and we want your help to bring him in.” They wanted a familiar face to distract him while the federal agents moved in to grab him before things got messy. Or dangerous. “We’re waiting on the paperwork from the Mexican authorities so a judge will issue the arrest warrant. The director gave us strict orders to stay on this side of the border until we have that warrant in our hands.”
I nodded, happy to hear there was finally some movement on this case. “I’m in. Just let me know when.” Task force operations were always a hurry-up-and-wait kind of event, so I knew what was coming next.
“Pack a go bag and be ready within the hour. You’ll be hearing from me,” she said and then left the office, all business. As usual.
After digesting the news that I would soon be in Mexico bringing Jarrod back home, I made a mental list of what I needed to pack before making sure the boss was in the loop. I knocked at the open doorway. “Got a minute?”
Tyson nodded. “This about Jarrod? Agent Witherspoon already filled me in.” He motioned me into his office and leaned back in a relaxed position. “Your work on this joint task force means more federal dollars for new equipment.”
“And bringing a dangerous criminal to justice?”
Tyson shrugged. “Yeah, and justice, too. Of course.” He rolled his eyes but I caught a glimpse of the smile playing around his mouth.
“I’m happy to help,” I told him honestly. Getting a guy like Jarrod off the streets and saving untold hundreds of girls from a terrifying fate was more than satisfying. It was my calling.
“Glad to hear you say that.” Tyson jumped on that way too quickly, and I knew I’d been had. “The principal needs us to do a scared straight event for a few wannabe troublemakers.” The mischievous grin Tyson wore matched my own and we laughed. “Figured you wanted in on it?”
“Damn straight.” This was exactly my type of community service—especially here in Tulip, where the toughest kids around wouldn’t last a day in the city. “Let me know when you’re ready. This day just keeps getting better and better.”
Waking up with Reese in my arms and on my tongue had been perfect. The food she’d sent me off with took it up another few notches, and knowing we’d have Jarrod in custody soon was like a hat trick.
Yeah, this day was already perfect.
And greedy bastard that I was, I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Reese
“I guess this means that the bacon barbecue jam is here to stay?” Maven rushed into the kitchen with an exhausted smile on her face, an empty tray in one hand and the other resting on her hip.
I nodded, my own smile so wide it threatened to crack my mouth at the corners. “Seems like that’s what the consensus is.” Ginger had decided to do a review of her latest culinary obsession, which my sales receipts could vouch for, and it had turned my restaurant into a madhouse. A wonderfully loud and chaotic madhouse. “Are we running low?”
“Yeah. Actually, I came to tell you to scrap the plastic containers because the keepsake jars are selling better and they’re easier. Right?”
I stopped as she said it and looked at her. “Absolutely right. Thanks. Now, get back out there.” Her serious expression disappeared and was replaced by another smile.
“Stay chilly, boss lady.”
“I’ll do my best.” The truth was, the kitchen was only half the reason for my overheated skin and permanent blush. The other half was an intoxicating detective with hazel eyes and an insatiable appetite for me and my food. I loved that trait in a man, and that was the exact problem. I loved it, but not in just any man. In one particular man. One who shied away from commitment and was the king of mixed signals.
It was a recipe for heartache—and I should know, I’d become an expert in it over the years. Which was exactly why I should have been running in the opposite direction when I realized my feelings for Jackson went beyond my bedroom. And my libido.
“Dammit.”
“Crap, did you hear them?”
I turned with a startled gasp at the sound of Maven’s voice. “Do you take ninja classes on the weekends?”
Her dark brows dipped low before a smile spread across her face. “Is there some place I can take ninja classes? Because I would totally be into that.”
“How would I know when I never leave this place? Sorry,” I replied. Maven didn’t deserve my sarcasm or my snark. “Did I hear who?”
As soon as she leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, I knew. “The matchmakers. They want to talk to you. About the jam,” she added quickly. Too quickly.
“Can you tell them I’m not here?”
“Nope. Eddy saw you already and there’s no way I’m putting myself in their path, not even for you.” I couldn’t say I blamed her. The women had been sneaky yet relentless this past year. It was kind of scary.
“Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” The only thing the matchmakers understood was a firm hand, so I sucked in several deep breaths until my hands no longer shook. Then, I squared my shoulders and stood as tall as I could before pushing out into the restaurant. “Ladies, you wanted to see me?”
“We had to,” Helen insisted. “That jam is literally to die for and we want a few extra jars reserved.”
“Just for us,” Eddy added. “We’ll pay, of course. But you’re a little too busy for our tastes this week.” A fact that made me a little sad but made my books very, very happy.
“How many jars?” I pulled out an order pad, one of a dozen I kept in all the extra aprons and coats hanging in the kitchen.
“Ten to start,” Betty Kemp suggested with a soft smile.
“So, what’s gong on with you and that handsome detective?” That question came from Elizabeth.
“We’re friends,” I told them and kept my gaze on the order pad.
“I’ll take a dozen of those biscuits, while you’re at it. Make it a standing order for Book Club,” Eddy said with an eyebrow wiggle.
“Friends who have been spending an awful lot of time together,” Helen pointed out, eyebrows raised as if to dare me to deny it.
“He’s been my assistant for the cook-off as part of the whole Hometown Heroes thing. Why am I telling you ladies this, when you probably set it all up?” They all averted their gazes, looking anywhere but at me. “That menu is suddenly awfully interesting, isn’t it?”
Eddy laughed. “I liked you better when you were scared of your own shadow. You’re a lot more fun now, but harder to cajole.”
“Thanks,” I told her, genuine surprise in my voice.
“If you and Jackson are just friends, when do you spend time with your lovers?” Elizabeth Vargas, I swear, used the word lovers just to aggravate me.
“I’m too busy for a lover,” I told her, but the words were covered by loud, obnoxious laughter. “It’s the truth.”
“I knew they were sleepin’ together,” Eddy said, proud of her skills.
“No one said that!” I stared at each of them, my eyes wide with warning and maybe a bit of a threat. “Stop. Nothing is going on between us. Nothing at all. Okay?”
Betty nodded. “She’s obviously not ready to talk about it yet. These young people never are.” She turned keen eyes on to me and laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “If you need to talk, we’re here.”
“Or if he needs a kick in the pants to get his head out of his ass, we’re here,” Eddy added delightedly. “My boys were as hardheaded as they come, and even they asked for help.” She glared when Elizabeth and Helen laughed. “Oh, shut up.”
That only made them all laugh harder and louder.
“You don’t have to tell us anything. Yet. Later, we’ll expect full details.” Eddy winked and took a step back, grinning at my shocked look.
“Whatever you say. We’ll be at our usual table, waiting for the jam.”
“You want it all now?”
“Since our table is free now…” Betty began her explanation but let it trail off with a shrug.
“Fine.” The ladies were a handful individually, but as a group they could test the patience of a saint. But they were loyal and loud, something a small business owner like myself appreciated, so I comped a couple jars and some samples of new items.
“Afternoon, Reese. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
I looked up with a smile for Walker. “That’s because you’ve been busy conquering the world—at least Tulip County, from what I hear.”
He snorted a laugh that was so unlike him, or had been before he’d gone and fallen in love. “My wife exaggerates.”
“Brags,” I corrected. “What can I get you?”
“A rib dinner and a chicken dinner, with extra biscuits and some of that bacon jam the whole world is going crazy over.” He shook his head as if he didn’t understand his own desire for it, which made me smile. “I also want to offer up some unsolicited advice.”
I froze and looked up again, waiting for some warning about Jackson or a reminder of my past. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Just that I’ve noticed you’re doing well selling the sauces, and you should think about doing this the right way. With paperwork. Give me a call when you have time and we’ll figure it out.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure. It seems more difficult than it is, but so does bacon jam. I’m not complaining, just consulting the expert. You.”
I smiled. “Point taken, counselor. I’ll set up a meeting soon. I promise,” I told him and disappeared into the kitchen. They were all well-meaning, but both customers had managed to give me even more to think about.
Did I even want to become a saucier? A professional sauce person? I didn’t even know. I liked it now, because I could experiment and fail without much risk, but when there were contracts and expectations, would the creativity flow? Would I enjoy it?
“How should I know?” It wasn’t something I’d thought about until recently, and now it was something I had to think about.
Just like Jackson.
My thoughts bounced from this new business venture to my newfound feelings for the rest of the day, and by the time Maven locked the doors, I had no answers. No clarity.
With Aunt Bette’s memory on a permanent vacation, I had no reason not to take on more professionally. And as long as I didn’t know where I stood with Jackson, I had no good reason to back out of becoming the sauce queen of southern Texas.
Even if it meant more work, which meant longer hours, which meant absolutely no shot in hell of settling down, getting married, or having kids. None of which I was close to now, without the sauce queen title. Or paychecks.
My thoughts were too jumbled to come up with anything resembling a reasonable solution or a firm decision, and I was too exhausted to make a list or a plan. Somehow, I managed to make my way home without hitting anyone or anything, which I was thankful for especially on a day where it seemed like everything was determined to overwhelm me.
I was in a tired funk, and nothing but a hot shower and junk food would help. The thought put a little more energy in my step as I climbed the stairs that led to my own little slice of peace. As I came closer to the door, a movement on the porch startled me and I stopped. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” Jackson’s familiar voice sounded in the darkness and his shape was hard to see, but semi-visible. “Your security light is broken. I’ll fix it for you.”
“Uh, thanks. Is that why you’re here?”
“No. I heard about the bacon jam craze at the restaurant and figured we could celebrate your success,” he said, holding up a tub of butter pecan ice cream. “And drink away your exhaustion?”
A smile touched my lips. “That sounds perfect, Jackson. Thanks.” I didn’t know how he knew it was just what I needed, I just knew that I was touched that he cared enough to do something about it.
And, sure, I fell a bit more in love with him right there on my front porch.
For all the world to see.
Jackson
“How does third place feel?” It wasn’t a first or even a second-place finish today, but somehow a third-place finish in the cook-off had Reese smiling like she’d won the whole damn thing.
“Third feels like… third. But it also feels like I’ve consistently placed in the top three, which has to mean something.” She shrugged off the sting of defeat, but her smile was genuine. “And maybe Texas beef just isn’t my thing.”
“Your Texas beef tastes damn good to me.”
Reese choked on a laugh and shook her head. “I think your flirting skills need an upgrade.”
“Does that mean it’s not working?” I added a pout to the question for good measure.
“I didn’t say that, I just said you need an upgrade. What works on one woman won’t work on them all.” She smiled, totally oblivious to the frown on my face as she buried her face in an oversized mug of beer.
“I’m hoping it only works on one particular woman,” I whispered, hoping the stubborn woman wouldn’t make me spell it out in the sky for her—knowing I damn well would, if that was what she needed.
“Me?”
I nodded. “Duh.”
Reese folded her arms, a cheeky smile on her face. “I see. Now that I’m winning all these cooking competitions, you want in on the action. What’s your cost, free meals? Professional guinea pig?” Her smile stretched playfully across her face, irresistible when she was light and carefree like this.
I shrugged and leaned in too close not to have a few tongues wagging in the morning. “I’d say let’s start with me licking barbecue sauce off your body. Your entire body.”
Her eyes went wide, round in surprise and plenty of lust. “Well,” she said and cleared her throat. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“I think so, too,” I told her and nipped her ear.
“But first, we have to mingle.” Her smile was wide and full of amusement because she knew what she did to me. “An hour. These people showed up to support me, Jackson.”
“Sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but they’re here for the barbecue sauce.”
“Music to my ears,” she said in a sing-song voice. “One hour,” she repeated and then Reese was gone, shuffling off to a corner where Mikki and Ginger stood chatting. When she joined them, she was all smiles and I couldn’t look away, not from the sight of her with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. Happy.
Really, truly happy.
And I had to think that part of that, at least, had to do with me. Well, with us, because there was definitely an us. I hoped.
“Man, you have got it bad!” Rafe stopped beside me and clasped me on the shoulder, a smile on his face. “Have you figured it out yet?”
I frowned at him. “What?”
“That you’re it. You and Reese were the matchmakers’ goal and, judging by the look on your face, neither of you have any clue.”
I let Rafe’s words sink in, wondering if this was some reverse psychology attempt to warn me off, but that didn’t make sense. He’d given us space and, even now, seemed more happy and amused than put out about whatever was happening between us.
“We’ve been spending time together,” I admitted.
“A lot. At night. Overnight.”
“Jealous?”
“That you’re getting the food that used to go to me, her closest friend? Hell, yeah. But Reese seems happy, which means I’m happy. She deserves it,” he said, and I heard the warning in his voice. Appreciated it.
“But do I?”
Rafe smiled. “That has yet to be determined. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m rooting for you guys.”
“Why?”
He
shrugged and took a long pull of his beer. “She likes you, and you seem like a cool enough dude. Plus, all the teasing I’ll get in because she went and fell in love? Priceless.”
If that one statement didn’t clear up the nature of their relationship, I didn’t know what could. “Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it, man. It’s all in good fun.” His gaze slipped past my shoulder and I turned just as Janey walked in, looking like a different version of the woman I was used to seeing around town, a camera always in her hands or hanging from her neck. “Gotta get going. Tell Reese I’ll stop by the shop for a proper congrats, yeah?”
I nodded and looked over my shoulder one more time with a grin. “Maybe she’ll have her own teasing to do sooner rather than later.”
“Don’t make me regret rooting for you.” Rafe pointed as he backed away, eyes going wide when he realized he was heading further away from the door. “Later!”
I shook my head with a laugh, eager to share with Reese the little bit of gossip I was pretty sure I’d just stumbled upon, but the buzzing in my back pocket distracted me. “This is Slater.”
“It’s Andrea. We’re a go. Wheels up in sixty, Worthington Airstrip.” She ended the call and I stood right there in the middle of Black Thumb and took it all in. This was happening with Jarrod. Finally.
And I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I found Reese right away, chatting with Penny and Bo near the front bar, and went to her. All the while hoping for the best. “Hey.” I rubbed a hand along her lower back. “You got a minute?”
“Eager to have her all to yourself?” Bo’s arched brows told me that Rafe’s words held more truth than I wanted to believe.
“Just something private to discuss, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Have fun.” Bo was undisturbed by the glare I sent her way, walking away with a mischievous look and a casual shrug.
“What was that all about?”
“Gossip,” was all I said. “Want to grab some fresh air?”
Reese nodded, but there was wariness in her gaze as she motioned for me to lead the way. “Sure. What’s going on?”
To Catch A Player (Second Chance) Page 12
