[Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls 01.0] Batter Up

by Robyn Neeley

After talking a bit with Tom, he congratulated Lance and headed over to the Sugar Spoon. Once there, the soft leather couch they’d broken in yesterday got another christening.

  And it was freakin’ awesome!

  His hands ran up and down his white buttoned-down shirt that now covered up Emma’s upper half. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to feel this happy, but here he was, feeling emotions he never thought he’d experience again. He wanted to savor every single minute.

  Emma playfully swatted him away. “Do you want to do this or not?” She spun back around, facing the counter.

  “Oh, I so want to do this,” he whispered into her ear. “All night long.”

  “I’m talking about the batter.”

  He groaned but then grew serious, wrapping his arms around her stomach. He rested his chin on the base of her soft neck. A place his head wouldn’t mind taking up permanent residence if she let him. “You know, you don’t have to do this.”

  She turned and kissed him slowly, the sweet taste of sugar intoxicated his lips. “I want to.”

  Before he could object, she wiggled out of his grasp and continued to pour ingredients into the bowl.

  “I’m not going to write about this.” He had called his editor this afternoon and told her the story was dead. He’d meant what he’d said on the bleachers earlier. He’d never hurt her. Still, he was more than a little bit intrigued with what she was about to perform.

  Although, he didn’t think it’d hold a candle to her performance just now in the office, or all of last night for that matter. He couldn’t believe how amazing they were together. Getting her in her comfortable bed where he could show her over and over how he felt about her was all he could think of. He leaned back on the counter. “You really don’t need to prove anything.”

  “I know.” She smiled up at him. “Now hand me that mixing spoon underneath the counter.”

  He looked down and saw a wooden spoon with a pink glittered handle. The glitter looked just like little pieces of sugar rock candy that he’d always wanted as a child, but his mother wouldn’t let him eat. “Here’s your tool.” His eyes widened at what he’d just said, remembering their earlier conversation. “Wait. Is this your tool?”

  She nodded. “Busted. Everyone thinks it’s the sprinkles, but it’s this beauty. My grandmother’s enchanted sugar spoon.” She took it from his hand. “I keep it in the safe and only bring it out on Monday nights.”

  He leaned against the counter. “So, what happens next? Will the batter smoke up?”

  “No, silly. This isn’t witch’s brew.”

  “How do you know when it’s ready?”

  “Geez,” she teased. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

  “Sorry, second nature.”

  She stopped what she was doing. “Jason, can you honestly throw everything you believe about logic and reason out the window for the next minute and a half?”

  “I think I can.” At least, he’d try. He’d do just about anything for the beautiful blonde standing next to him. He hoped that she was starting to realize that.

  “Okay, here we go.” Closing her eyes, Emma began to stir.

  He didn’t care what the batter may or may not spell. His heart had already made its case. It wanted Emma. He grinned. So did a few of his other body parts. He was falling in love, and dammit, it felt good.

  He watched Emma while she concentrated. What was going on inside that beautiful head? It couldn’t be that silly spell she’d made him recite before she set his mouth on fire, could it?

  Her eyes flew open and she peered into the bowl, lightly stroking the batter with her spoon. “It’s starting.”

  He leaned in to get a look. The letter E began to form in pink cursive. He stepped back and rubbed his eyes. Was he really seeing what he thought he was?

  His heart raced. Not only was it working, but it was spelling out the name of the woman he was falling in love with. An m appeared next.

  Apparently, the batter and his heart were on the same page. He spun Emma around and crashed his lips into hers.

  Her tongue joined in for a few seconds, but then she pulled away. “Don’t you want to see the rest?” She paused. “With your own eyes?”

  “Don’t need to.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s close up and go back to the lake. I’d like to draw that bath I promised.”

  Emma ran her hands up and down his bare chest, her fingers resting on the front of his jeans. “Let’s just confirm whose name is in the bowl, shall we?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to peer in and see her name. He did. Still, he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept that magic was real.

  Right now, all he cared about was exploring this amazing connection with this gorgeous woman whom he hoped to turn into much more than some silly summer fling. They were headed in the right direction.

  He deserved this. It had been a long time. At one point, he didn’t think he could ever be this happy again, but here he was. Tonight, he planned on having a long conversation with Emma. If she felt the same way, they’d have to make some decisions about their future.

  She let out a sexy sigh that he interpreted as her feeling the same way he did.

  “God, Emma, this feels good.” He continued to hold her close, breathing in her vanilla and sugar scent. Forget about the cottage. He might have to take her back into the office if she sighed again like that.

  “Aren’t you just the slightest bit curious?”

  “Maybe a little.” He leaned down to kiss her.

  “I’ll take a look for you.” She spun around and gasped.

  “What is it, Emma?” He leaned over her shoulder to see what was in the bowl.

  “Who is it might be a better question.” She broke from his embrace and folded her arms. “Who’s Emily?”

  Jason stared into the mixture at the name written in pink cursive.

  His past had spoken.

  14

  “So, Emma . . .” Abby stretched her bare legs and tilted her head up to the blue sky. “You know I love taking my dad’s boat out as much as anyone, but what gives?” She raised her hands. “It’s like the crack of dawn and the sun’s barely out. This isn’t a prime tanning hour. I could get frost bite.”

  “Stop being dramatic. We’re almost there.” Emma clutched the wheel of her uncle’s motor boat, slicing the water with her determination. She was a woman on a mission. She also knew Abby would try to stop her if she told her the plan.

  Emma needed to get as far off land as possible. Reaching the middle of the lake, she placed her hand on the shift, slowing the boat down to a stop. Yards away from a dock in any direction, she let out a long exhale.

  “Why’d you stop?” Abby asked.

  “Jason’s leaving today.” Emma turned and straightened her legs for balance. “Can I borrow your cell phone?”

  “He’s leaving?” Abby reached into her beach bag and pulled out a pink-cased iPhone, handing it to Emma. “Who are you calling?”

  “No one.”

  “Is he going back to Miami?”

  Emma nodded, fighting back tears. She pointed toward the Reynolds’s cottage. “He should be leaving for the airport any minute now.”

  Abby frowned. “Then why are we out here in the middle of the lake?”

  Emma reached into the boat’s ignition and pulled out the key. “So I’m not tempted to stop him.” She threw the key into the lake along with Abby’s phone.

  “Emma! What the hell!” Abby scrambled up onto her feet and leaned over the boat, searching the water. “Have you lost your flippin’ mind?”

  “No.” Emma laughed sarcastically. “I lost my heart, and I need it back.”

  “That phone cost me a mint.” Abby put her hands on her hips. “Well, what are we supposed to do now? I don’t suppose you brought yours.”

  “No. Relax. I’ll buy you a new one. Someone will come along and tow us.” Emma sat down on
the boat’s built-in edge seating and brought her knees in, tucking them to her chest. “I just really needed to make sure I didn’t run after Jason and beg him to stay. He needs to leave,” she said, trying desperately to force conviction into each word.

  “Well, thanks a lot for dragging me along for your bout of crazy.” Abby peered inside the cooler next to her. “See, this was premeditated.” She pulled out a small plastic cupcake container, opened it, and handed a red velvet cupcake to Emma. “Might as well have some breakfast. Who knows how long we’ll be stranded out here.”

  Emma looked up and took the cupcake. “Someone will come rescue us eventually.”

  “I sure hope so.” Abby leaned back, letting her arms dangle over the side of the boat. “So, what happened?”

  Good question. How could Emma fill her cousin in when she didn’t quite understand any of it herself? She peeled back the cupcake foil and bit down. Somehow, even the forbidden sweet for breakfast didn’t make her feel any better. It used to as a little girl.

  “Did you two get into a fight?”

  “Yes.” Emma knew Abby wasn’t going to give up until she coaxed the full story out of her. She kind of owed her cousin an explanation for throwing her phone overboard. “No. Not exactly.” She paused and let out a slow breath. “I think I’m falling for him.”

  “Emma, then why the hell are we out here? You should be on land stopping him from leaving.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Why not? You like him; he obviously likes you. You two belong together.”

  Emma fought through the hitch in her throat to speak. “But the batter didn’t predict it.”

  “What?”

  “I should have never performed the spell in front of him,” Emma admitted. It was the stupidest idea she’d ever had. It’s just she was so sure the batter would spell her name. More than sure.

  “Wait. Rewind.” Abby pulled her arms in and straightened up. “When did you do the spell?”

  “Last night. After everyone left.”

  “So he could do the story?”

  Emma shook her head. “He wasn’t going to write it. I wanted to prove to him that I trusted him. I was sure it would spell my name.” She tilted her head up to the sky. “God, I was such a fool.”

  Abby cocked a curious eyebrow. “Who did it spell? Don’t tell me it was Caitlin because I will seriously jump off this boat.”

  “No. It spelled ‘Emily.’” Emma’s heart constricted at the mere mention of the other woman’s name.

  “Emily who?”

  “Don’t know. I thought the batter was spelling my name.” She sighed, thinking back to the moment when she saw the first two letters. How Jason had grabbed her and pulled her in tight. In his arms, she’d felt so protected and wanted . . . and happy.

  If only she hadn’t turned around to look in the bowl but given in to his seduction and locked up like he suggested. They would have no doubt spent the rest of the evening back at her place in that bath he’d promised, none the wiser.

  But wouldn’t that have just prolonged the inevitable? If this Emily woman was his soul mate, maybe it’s better to know now before she fell any deeper. She turned her head, no longer able to fight off the tears.

  “That sucks.” Abby grabbed her beach bag and handed Emma a towel to wipe her eyes.

  “Thanks.”

  “So, is this Emily someone he knows?”

  Emma shrugged. “I think so.”

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He didn’t have to. It was written all over his face.” Emma cringed, remembering Jason’s reaction to the batter. His eyes had widened, and then his face fell. “And then he left.”

  “Emma, you need to go talk to him. Maybe Emily is an ex-girlfriend or his dog that passed away or something.”

  “No. She’s more than an ex and definitely wasn’t a dog. He looked . . .” She flung the towel to her side. “He looked utterly heartbroken.”

  “Maybe he can explain. You have to at least give him a chance.”

  Emma appreciated her cousin trying to help. “You know as well as I do that the batter is never wrong. Never.”

  Abby conceded but then appeared to have a thought. “Maybe so, but Jason’s name appeared when I did the spell on you.”

  “That wasn’t a name. It was just one letter. For all we know, my soul mate is named Jeff or Jack or James or Jim.” The thought of it being anyone but Jason smashed another piece off her broken heart.

  Abby’s voice softened as she reached for Emma’s hand. “I think you should still talk to him. How do you know he’s leaving today?”

  “He taped this to my door.” She reached into her white shorts with her free hand and pulled out a piece of paper. “It says that he’s going home. His flight leaves at ten a.m.”

  Abby lunged for the note, taking a second to read it. “Emma, it also says he’s coming back in a week. For God’s sake, this isn’t good-bye. It’s a ‘see you soon.’”

  “But he’s leaving.”

  “Not forever! You threw my phone in the water and he’s coming back. Sheesh. I thought I was the dramatic one in the family.”

  “So what if he returns? It doesn’t change the outcome of the batter.” Emma grimaced and looked out onto the lake, the tiny ripples led all the way to Jason’s rental car parked in the driveway. He’d be leaving soon for the airport.

  “It was just a summer fling.” She sighed. “Summer’s over.”

  15

  Jason turned his Jeep down the windy dirt path to the last plot on the land. The weather was unseasonably comfortable for Miami, even this late in the summer. Normally, he would have loved taking his Jeep out on this kind of day, but not today. He slowed down and parked. He’d only been to this cemetery once before. That day had broken him.

  He shut off the engine and grabbed the beautiful white and yellow flowers from the passenger seat. He’d picked them up earlier from a florist on Lincoln Road. A place he hadn’t stepped in in over three years.

  Since he returned to Miami, all he thought about was getting back to Buttermilk Falls and his future.

  Today would be different. He needed to do what he should have done way before now. Spend the day with Emily. He owed it to his deceased fiancée.

  He pulled out one of the flowers, rubbing his thumb up and down the long stem. Daisies had always been her favorite. He thought back to their first date where he had stood on her porch with one single daisy.

  He’d picked her up that evening on his motorcycle. God, he loved that thing. She’d refused to ride it at first but finally succumbed to her adventurous side. He laughed . . . or maybe she’d been starving and wanted to get to the restaurant. He remembered her long arms wrapped around him as he flew down A1A. They’d spent a romantic candlelit evening at a small bistro on South Beach. That night was the start of their year-long relationship.

  Emily had been an elementary school teacher in Ft. Lauderdale where she taught fourth grade. From the moment Jason laid eyes on her, the beautiful brunette had taken his breath away.

  They had met under unorthodox and tragic circumstances when Jason covered a mass school shooting. Emily had been in the principal’s office when it happened and saw the whole thing.

  She had been able to identify the perpetrator in a lineup, and after a short trial, the bastard was sent away for a long time.

  From the beginning, Jason felt an inexplicable pull toward Emily. He wanted to be her protector. She had turned him down cold the first time he’d asked her out, but he didn’t give up. He never did when he wanted something. She finally agreed to have dinner with him, often joking that it was his dimples that wore her down.

  He had loved everything about her: her charm, wit, and beauty. She also had a calmness that balanced out his chaotic reporter lifestyle. By the holidays, they were officially a couple, and that spring, Jason had proposed at the same restaurant that they’d had their first date.

  As they were busy planning their happily ever
after, what they didn’t know was that the bad guy whom Emily helped put away had a seedy father on the outside, wanting revenge.

  Jason thought back to the night that he’d found his bride-to-be hunched over in her Volkswagen. The doctors said the bullet wound indicated she had died instantly.

  That was three years ago. Since then, Jason had buried himself in his work. His editor had suggested moving him off the police beat, but Jason had threatened to quit if she did. He felt he owed it to Emily to continue covering crime stories.

  He stood at her upright marble headstone. Flower pots had been placed on both sides and were filled with all kinds of bright-colored daisies. He suspected Emily’s parents kept up the grave. They lived in Pembroke Pines, not far away. He rarely kept in touch with the family. He’d tried in the beginning, even spent Thanksgiving that first year after Emily’s death with them. The pain was just too much. Emily’s mother called Jason every Christmas to check in on him.

  Three years ago, he had stood alongside both her and her husband as their daughter’s casket was lowered into the ground. Consumed by both grief and an overwhelming guilt that he should have been there that night to protect Emily, he never could muster the courage to return to this spot.

  Until today. Kneeling down, he laid the flowers in front of the headstone and stood. “My sweet, Emily.” His eyes started to water. How could he have been so selfish not to visit her all these years?

  He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re probably wondering what took me so long. I can just see you shaking your head.” He smiled at the memory of her often showing her frustration at his procrastination. Whether it was in taking the trash out, doing his taxes, or waiting until the last minute to file a story, she’d known his tendencies to procrastinate all too well.

  He laid the long stem flower on the grass in front of her stone, imagining her beautiful body resting peacefully underneath. “I’m so sorry that we didn’t get to have the life I promised. I want you to know that I will never forget what we had.” He touched his heart. “I’ll always hold you right here. You will always be a part of me.”