“If I’d have known you were this good, I would have asked you for some remodeling tips for the house.”
This casual conversation was helping her to relax. “You definitely didn’t need my help. You did a fantastic job. What did Beth and Jordan have to say about all of your hard work?”
“Well, Jordan hasn’t seen any of it because he didn’t get leave at Christmas.” Avery glanced down. “Beth picked out paint colors.”
“I’m sure she loved the rest of your work. The house has a whole new, more modern feel.”
He shrugged. “You know how kids are, always on their phone or running off to meet friends.”
So Beth hadn’t noticed how much time and attention to detail her brother had put into the house. Jillian felt bad for him. “Well, I think what you did is amazing. I’m sure when their lives slow down a bit, they’ll appreciate all of your hard work.”
He grunted as though he didn’t agree. “Should we get started?”
She glanced around and realized he hadn’t brought any supplies. “Can I help you carry anything in?”
He sent her a blank look. “Carry what?”
“Oops. I guess there was a miscommunication. I thought you had what you wanted to bake and just needed some help learning how to put it all together.”
He shook his head. “I need help with all of it. I have no idea what to bake.”
“I see.” Well, that certainly cast a different glow over the evening. “I’m afraid my baking supplies are a little low—”
“No problem. I planned to go shopping as soon as I figure out what I need.” He raked his fingers through his hair, sending the longer waves scattering. “I guess I didn’t make that clear when we spoke.”
“Do you know what types of baked goods you have to make?”
He yanked a folded paper from his jeans pocket. “This is everything I know about the event.”
Jillian accepted the paper and unfolded it. She scanned down over the Bake-Off guidelines. There were to be three events. All baking was to be done at the competition. No at-home-baked items permitted. Each participant was to bake cookies, a pie, and a cake.
“The cookies don’t sound so bad,” she said, still reading the comments on the paper. “You just have to pick a recipe. The cake will be a bit harder.” She paused as her gaze scanned back to the list of baked items. There weren’t many details. “Do you know if the pie crust has to be from scratch?”
He frowned. “Everything has to be done from scratch.”
“Uh-huh.”
Avery’s frown deepened. “What does uh-huh mean?”
“It just means that some of this will be harder than other items.”
“Translated to mean that I’m in big trouble here.”
“Don’t freak out. I’ll help you get through it.” She refolded the paper and handed it back to him. “I have some cookbooks over here.” She walked toward the kitchen area. It was a good thing she’d borrowed some of her mother’s cookbooks. Most of hers were in storage as this efficiency apartment didn’t allow for a lot of extras. “We can go through them and see if anything strikes your fancy.”
They sat down on the matching barstools and started flipping through page after page of recipes. It soon became obvious that it would be best to tackle each round of the competition separately. It might help Avery not feel so totally overwhelmed—kind of how he looked right now. She felt bad for him.
Jillian glanced down at her notepad. “So you’ve narrowed the cookie recipes down to chocolate chip, snickerdoodles, or cowboy cookies. Which one shall we try first?”
Avery flipped through the cookbooks to the pages with the sticky tabs. He hemmed and hawed a bit as he turned the pages back and forth. She couldn’t help but smile. She’d never known anyone to put such effort into picking out a recipe.
And then he sat back and looked at her. “I think I like the sound of cowboy cookies best of all. It’s rather fitting, don’t you think?”
“I do. But what about the other recipes? Do you want to try them?”
“Only if the cowboy cookies don’t work out.”
“Okay, then we have a plan.” She got to her feet. “Next stop the grocery store.”
He sent her a lazy smile that made her stomach flutter. “At least this part I know how to do.” He moved to the door and pulled his keys from his pocket. “Let’s go.”
“Um, aren’t you going to write down the ingredients first?”
He sighed and shook his head. “See what happens when I go and open my mouth?”
He sat back down and started writing out the ingredients.
This was going to be a very interesting evening. And a longer one than she’d anticipated, but fortunately she didn’t have anything else planned—except for working on her special contribution to the fundraiser.
*
This feels so natural.
But how is that possible?
Avery had never gone grocery shopping with Jillian. He’d always gone alone while she was watching the kids. And now, here he was pushing a shopping cart down the aisle of the Monroe Grocery Store while Jillian made small talk about the Bake-Off.
He nodded or gave a one-word response at the appropriate spots. He hadn’t told Jillian, but he hated grocery shopping. These days he did it rarely and grudgingly. Most of the time he opted for takeout from one of the local restaurants.
No sir. He didn’t like grocery shopping at all. It made him think of when he was struggling to finish raising his brother and sister. And in the solitude of grocery shopping, he had too much time to think.
And today his thoughts had drifted to his visit to the bank first thing that morning. He knew securing a loan to buy the Crooked S wouldn’t be easy, but he didn’t expect a quick and firm denial. Being a rodeo cowboy, he was classified as self-employed. To make a living, he had to be out on the road and thus unavailable to run the ranch. And the bank didn’t believe he’d be able to turn the ranch’s finances around quick enough, especially if he were to split his time between the ranch and the rodeo. They deemed the venture too high risk. Still, Avery refused to give up.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize Jillian had stopped in front of him. The cart he was pushing ran right into her. She let out a small ompf before turning in his direction and leveling him with a frown.
“Sorry,” he said hesitantly.
And then she surprised him by smiling. “Is grocery shopping that boring to you?”
“It’s not exactly enjoyable.”
“Really? I love it. Except when I’m hungry. Those are the times I buy far more than I intended and my credit card cringes. Not to mention half of my loot isn’t exactly on the healthy side of life.”
It was hard to remain in a foul mood when he was with Jillian. “Ah…so you’re a junk food junkie.”
She shrugged. “I call it fun food.”
He laughed, liking this less serious side of Jillian. “And does changing the name make it healthier?”
“So anyway, what’s first on our shopping list?”
He shook his head. “Oh no, you aren’t going to change the subject. I’m curious about this.”
“There’s nothing to be curious about.”
“Oh yes, there is. You’ve always been so perfect in school, at home, and with your business. So I really enjoy hearing about this rebel side of you. So what’s your favorite? Chips? Ice cream? Candy?”
A rosy hue came over her cheeks. “Avery, do you have to? It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It must be or you wouldn’t be blushing.” His smile broadened. “You know, I’m beginning to see how much fun this grocery shopping can be.”
He’d definitely been doing it wrong all of this time. He should have been shopping with Jillian. Perhaps he’d see about them shopping together in the future. The idea definitely had possibilities.
“Avery,” came a voice from behind him.
He turned to see Mrs. Monroe approaching him. Her arms were outstretched
and before he knew it, he was enveloped in a warm hug. It’d been a long time since anyone had hugged him. He remembered vividly at his parents’ funeral how everyone in town had shown up. With most of them knowing him since he was in diapers, a handshake just wouldn’t do. There was hug after hug. At the time, he’d been so numb that he was able to get through it.
After the funeral, he hadn’t been able to take the coddling any longer. He had been angry at the world for stealing away two healthy people who had a loving family counting on them. Avery had distanced himself from people except for his brother and sister, but they had never been a touchy-feely family.
Marietta was such a small town. Everyone knew everyone else, and they all wanted to comfort him, but in reality, no one could. The devastating loss of his parents was something he and his siblings had to get through on their own—in their own time.
The love and caring of the town had been smothering. He knew how that sounded—awful. But it’s how he’d felt for the longest time. And with a brother and sister to finish raising, he had to concentrate on their needs. They were the reason he kept putting one foot in front of the other.
He was surprised to find that Mrs. Monroe’s hug didn’t bother him. Maybe it was because she’d just gone through a similar horrific experience with the loss of her son. Or maybe he’d finally healed and was ready to move on with the rest of his life.
Mrs. Monroe pulled back and there were tears in her eyes. “When I heard what you volunteered to do, I was so touched.” She swiped the moisture from her eyes. “Harry would have really liked it too. I just know that he’ll be smiling down over the Bake-Off.”
“I…I’m happy to do what I can. But I have to admit it wasn’t my idea.”
“It’s okay. I know my daughter and your sister lassoed you into this, but you didn’t have to agree. So I’m thankful.”
Avery shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t feel as though he deserved such high praise, especially after he’d nearly backed out of the whole event. “I hope you don’t expect much. I’ve never mastered baking.”
“Just you being there and making the effort will be enough for me and everyone else.” And then Mrs. Monroe noticed Jillian. “Hello, Jillian. I’m so sorry I haven’t had a chance to visit Tangled Charms, but I will soon. I’ve heard amazing reviews about the place. And I’ve seen people wearing your jewelry. It’s so beautiful.”
Jillian’s cheeks glowed pink again. “Thank you. I understand you have a lot on your hands right now. Don’t worry. I plan on the store being there for many years. You can stop by any time that’s convenient for you.”
Mrs. Monroe got a puzzled look on her face. “Do you need help finding something?”
Jillian shook her head. “Thanks. But I think I’ve got everything under control.”
Avery watched as Jillian began moving away from him as she perused the shelf of canned soup. What in the world? He wondered why she didn’t admit that she was there with him. Was she worried he wouldn’t want Mrs. Monroe to know she was helping him with the Bake-Off?
He didn’t mind at all. The more honest he was with Harry’s mother, the better he felt about Harry’s family putting up the money to sponsor him in this Bake-Off. Truthfully, he wished they would sponsor someone else—someone who knew his way around a cake pan—but obviously that wasn’t going to happen.
He cleared his throat, regaining Mrs. Monroe’s attention. “Actually, Jillian is here with me. She’s going to help, erm, mentor me for the Bake-Off.”
“She is?” Mrs. Monroe’s gaze moved between the two of them.
He nodded. “She agreed to be with me every step of the way.”
“That’s so nice of her. You make sure you treat her well.”
Treat her well? What was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to insist on paying her? Was going to the wedding enough?
“I’ll definitely do my best,” he said, hoping that was the right thing to say. He noticed that Jillian was studying the store list as though she had to cram for a surprise exam.
“I’m sure you will.” Mrs. Monroe smiled.
Was it his imagination or had there been a distinctive gleam in the woman’s eyes? He turned to Jillian whose cheeks were rosy red. He was obviously missing something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was.
*
And so it begins.
Jillian’s good mood evaporated. Thankfully Mrs. Monroe had been called away, but it was too late. The gossip was going to start up again. She fully expected the whispers, hopeful looks, and innuendos about her and Avery being a couple.
And Avery had done nothing to discourage Mrs. Monroe from thinking they were romantically involved. Didn’t he see what he was doing? Surely he wasn’t that oblivious, was he?
Back when Jillian had worked for him, things had gotten cozy. As one year rolled into the next, they had gotten closer. At least she thought they had.
There had been movie nights that he’d invited her to—but then again, as she thought back over it, perhaps it had been Beth who had invited her and Avery had merely agreed. There had been informal dinners and school events.
Was it possible she’d read too much into the past? Probably. She’d made a fool of herself for Avery and he acted as though he never even noticed. But she was a little older now and hopefully a lot wiser.
Okay, so she had dated Glenn and that hadn’t exactly been one of her smarter moves. Still, it did prove that she was over her crush on Avery.
She was a business owner now. She needed the town to take her seriously, not gossip about how she kept making a mess of her love life.
Jillian took off down the grocery store aisle. She could hear Avery call her name, but she didn’t want to stop—not yet. She had to calm herself so she didn’t say something that she’d later regret.
When she stepped into the aisle with the baking supplies, she glanced at the list. She needed chocolate chips. She grabbed the name-brand milk chocolate ones. In her opinion, there was no skimping when it came to chocolate.
When she turned to place the chocolate chips in the cart, her gaze strayed across Avery. His expression was stormy and lines of frustration were written all over his face.
“Are you going to talk to me?” he asked.
“Yes.” Just not about what was bothering her. “Do you see the flaked coconut around here?”
He moved around the cart toward her. “I don’t want to talk about the shopping list.”
“But we need to find this stuff—”
He placed his hand on hers. “What we need is for you to tell me what happened back there.”
Her gaze moved from his face to his hand. As though he realized he was now holding her hand, he withdrew his hand. She couldn’t believe he didn’t know what was going on.
“I’m not having this conversation here,” she said firmly.
“But why? I don’t understand. I was just giving you credit for helping me get through this competition. I thought mentioning your contribution would have made you happy.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s—nothing. Forget it.” She moved away from him to continue their shopping. Thankfully their list was short so it shouldn’t take them too long.
Avery cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Yes, we need parchment paper. I’m out.”
“Parchment paper? I’m guessing that’s not with the construction paper.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “No. Try the aisle with the aluminum foil and plastic wrap.”
“I’ll be back.”
While he was off on that task, she consulted the store list again. She kept losing her train of thought. She moved down the baking aisle, searching for the coconut. At last, she spotted it. She grabbed a bag of the generic stuff. In this case, generic would do.
She turned around and nearly bumped into Avery. She jumped back. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Mus
t be my stealth abilities.” He grinned at her.
“Uh-huh. Well, you can have this.” She handed over the coconut.
Avery’s face scrunched up in obvious disgust. “What’s this for?”
Was he serious? “It’s for your cookie recipe. Is that a problem?”
He was still frowning. “Uh, I guess not.”
She pressed her hands to her hips. “We seem to be experiencing another lack of communication. What’s up with the frowny face?”
He shrugged. “I don’t like coconut.”
“But you picked out the recipe. Didn’t you read over the ingredients?”
“Not really.”
“So what did you do? Go by the photo?”
He nodded. “The pretzels and chocolate chips looked good.”
Well, she supposed that was something. Perhaps they could modify the recipe a bit. “Let me have that coconut back.”
He handed it over and watched as she returned it to the shelf. “But I thought we needed it.”
“Not if you don’t like it—”
“But the recipe—”
“Can be modified.” She glanced down at the store list in her hand. She might as well find out if they were going to have any other problems. “How do you feel about oats?”
He shrugged.
Not a good sign. She scratched them.
“How about pecans?”
He shook his head. “I don’t like nuts in my food.”
She was tempted to ask why he’d chosen this particular recipe since he obviously didn’t like most of the ingredients, but she knew the answer—he was drawn in by the name, cowboy cookies. Sometimes men could be such little boys.
There had to be a way to fix this. There was nothing in the Bake-Off rules she was given that said they couldn’t make up their own recipe. And it didn’t make sense to have Avery bake something he wouldn’t eat.
With her mind made up, she said, “Okay. Pick out a couple ingredients you would enjoy in your cookie.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not the eggs and flour and stuff, but rather what you’d like to replace the coconut and pecans with.”
“Oh. Okay.” He started down the aisle. He stopped at the end and held up a bag of Reese’s Pieces. “I like these.”
Sprinkled with Love Page 10
