by Robyn Neeley
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Well, it wasn’t Sunday as in the day I was talking about. I saw you eating a sundae.” She pointed to Emma’s dish that Betty had dropped down only seconds ago.
“What?” Emma slammed her glass down. “But I’ve been coming here every Sunday since I was thirteen.”
“Well, I’m sure Mel and Betty have appreciated your patronage.”
“This can’t be happening.” Emma winced. “What else did I get wrong?”
“Well, let’s talk about what you had right. First, I did see you at this very table. In addition to the sundae, I did see a newspaper.” She grinned. “And look what we have here.”
She pointed to the copy of the Miami Herald.
Emma shot up out of her seat and then sat back down. So much for raising any suspicion that anything was going on. “Oh my God. Is today the day your premonition is coming true? Is Dad coming back at two o’clock?” She looked down at her watch. If it was true, she’d have to wait over an hour.
“Well, that’s the other thing you had wrong.” She snatched the paper and thumbed through it until she found what she was looking for. Placing it in front of Emma, she pointed. “That’s what I saw.”
Emma glanced down and her hand flew to her mouth. There was the story. Jason’s headshot stared right at her. The first sentence: It all started at 2 p.m.
Emma’s mom grabbed her hand. “I think you now have all the correct pieces to my premonition. It doesn’t mean that your dad will never come back. Maybe one day he will.”
“And we’ll be waiting for the bastard,” Betty interjected, unable to hide the fact she was eavesdropping.
Emma’s mom waved the waitress off. “The important thing, my dear daughter, is you can never lose hope.”
“But you said he would be right there in front of me. The bus stop is in front of me.”
“Hmmm . . . I did, didn’t I?” She pointed down to the paper.
Emma looked down again at Jason’s headshot.
“I think this is what I meant when I said someone you cared about would be right in front of you.”
Emma gulped.
Her mother stood. “I think it’s time you enjoy that sundae you ordered and read the paper—alone, just how I saw it.”
Emma watched as her mother left the diner. Her mom’s premonition apparently had come true, but what did it mean?
She glanced down at the paper. The premonition hadn’t predicted her future, or at least her mother wasn’t revealing it if it had. Would the story? She took a deep breath and began to read.
20
The selected bachelorette of Buttermilk Falls hadn’t arrived, but as soon as she did, Jason would be ready.
“You sure you can handle the outcome?” Abby asked, handing Jason a measuring cup full of sugar.
He stared down into the mixing bowl and took a deep breath. “I’m ready. When do I get the sugar spoon?”
“When she gets here. We don’t want to do it too soon.” Abby winked.
“Hey, why don’t you serve beer here?” Brandon came up to the Sugar Spoon counter and nudged Abby. “This place is lame.”
“Because then you’d never leave.” She nudged him back. “Why don’t you go ingratiate the Buttermilk Tavern with your presence? I’m sure some barfly will fawn all over you.”
“I think I’ll stay here.” He took a seat on the bar stool.
Jason laughed. His best friend and Emma’s cousin thought they had everyone in the bakery fooled with their constant bickering, but he knew better. He’d caught them kissing on the front porch last night when he arrived home. They both tried to act cool, like it never happened.
Jason couldn’t be happier for his best friend. Abby was a breath of fresh air. He thought she’d be good for him, as long his buddy didn’t do anything rash like propose to her next week.
Brandon was flying home to Los Angeles tomorrow, but he’d be back in no time to begin his new life in Buttermilk Falls. That fact still surprised Jason, but Brandon seemed genuinely excited about moving into his new cottage and diving into his book.
Jason turned and stared down into the mixing bowl. As far as his own future was concerned, well, that was still unclear.
Emma checked her reflection in her bedroom mirror one last time. Her gaze falling on the newspaper that she had set earlier on her bed.
She smiled. The story hadn’t been anything like she had feared. No, far from it.
Oh, Jason did expose something the town kept near and dear to its heart, but it wasn’t Batter Up. That honor went to the BBB Burger. Jason weaved it into a beautiful story about a small town in America where the residents operated on faith. He did talk about Emma and her bachelors but not once mentioned the spell or witchcraft.
No, this story was about the residents of Buttermilk Falls, and how the town had gotten into his heart and changed everything he thought he knew about facts and what really mattered in life.
He also talked about Emily. How much he’d loved her and for so long didn’t know if he’d be able to move on, but that he now knew it was possible. He just needed to believe in love again. Luckily, a certain bakeshop owner had inspired him with her unwavering display of hope and faith.
And at the end, Abby had been right. He did have a special invitation for her.
Emma Stevens, if you’re reading this, you are invited to be the first bachelorette at Batter Up night. On behalf of all the bachelors in Buttermilk Falls, we hope you’ll be there.
She picked up the paper, grinning at Jason’s photo. “What are you up to?” She’d soon find out. It was nearly six and time to go.
After giving Magic his evening snack, she headed out the door and to her car. The cottage next door had been empty. She’d watched all weekend for Jason, but there was no sign of him. On Sunday, she still went to the Star Lite for her late lunch. Even though she now knew her dad returning wasn’t her mother’s premonition, she still could hope. Having hope was what defined her. She couldn’t stop now.
Within minutes, she turned into the crowded parking lot. Her heartbeat picked up as she put her car in park. She peered into the bakery and couldn’t help but laugh. She’d never seen Batter Up night from this angle. It was quite funny to see her bakeshop full of men.
She got out of her car and her heels clicked to the front of the bakery where she took one last deep breath and opened the door. The bachelors all began to hoot and cheer. Brandon raced over and hoisted her in the air. “There’s the woman of the hour.”
“Put her down, you big idiot,” Abby demanded. As soon as he did, Abby pushed him out of the way and wrapped her arms around Emma, giving her a big hug.
Emma eyed Brandon. Last night, she could have sworn she saw him kissing her cousin next door, but Jason’s car pulled in and she’d disappeared from the window.
She walked up to the counter and Jason’s face lit up. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You came.”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “Did I have a choice?”
“Still mad at me?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “I guess not, but you did expose someone, didn’t you?”
“Think Mel will forgive me?”
“Who knows.” She pointed to the bowl. “What are you doing?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” He snapped his fingers. “Abby, can you help me? I’ve been practicing all day.”
Her cousin let out a squeal. “Oh, I love this part!”
Emma pointed at Jason. “You both can’t be serious. He’s not—”
“Casting the spell?” Jason grinned. “Damn right I am.”
“Abby?” Emma looked over at her cousin for an explanation.
“Don’t look at me. It was all his idea. His hands are magical.” She leaned in. “You’re going to want to let those hands wander tonight. Just sayin’.”
Emma smiled and took a seat. “I guess I’ll watch.” There was no way on earth the spell would work for Jason. No w
ay.
Abby flew around the counter, landing at Jason’s side. She handed him their grandmother’s pink mixing spoon. “Are you ready?”
Jason nodded.
“Okay. Repeat it three times in your head, just like I told you,” Abby instructed.
“Got it.” Jason closed his eyes. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the ridiculous spell that she’d made him repeat before giving him the hot sauce batter.
Without warning, his eyes flew open. He looked down at the bowl and smiled.
“Oh, come on, you two.” Emma rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing in there.”
Jason snatched the bowl away from Emma. “Non-believers can wait right here.”
Emma watched as Abby and Jason hovered over the bowl with their backs to her.
Suddenly, Abby screamed. “Oh my God! Gentlemen, we have a J!”
A roar rang through the bakery as the bachelors came up and high-fived Jason.
“Stop it. All of you. Let me see it,” Emma demanded.
“Okay. Okay.” Jason’s gave her a devilish smile. “Sure you can handle it?”
“Yes! Show me now.”
He tilted the bowl so she could see. In the batter in blue cursive writing was the name Jason, but there were more words in this batch. Emma smiled at the words that read:
Jason has a ?
“Do you like the question mark dot with a heart? I did that myself,” he said proudly, picking up a tube of icing and waving it in front of her.
She nodded, a bit relieved he hadn’t been able to do the spell. No need to worry about him turning into Harry Potter anytime soon. “Um . . . so, what’s your question?”
“Glad you asked.” He swung his legs up and jumped over the counter, taking a seat on the empty stool next to her. Grabbing her hand, he gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Emma, will you be more than my summer fling?”
Emma reached over and touched his face. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“More than sure.” He stood and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her. “We’re good together, Emma Stevens. I love you and want to be with you.” Cupping her face, he kissed her, and the bakery erupted in applause.
Minutes later, the patrons filed out to head over to the Buttermilk Tavern. Jason and Emma took a seat in a booth near the front door. She leaned into him, soaking in everything that was happening. “So you know, we’re going to have to discuss your living arrangements because you’re not staying at the Reynolds’s cottage.”
He chuckled. “I could stay with Brandon,” he paused and nodded over to his buddy and Abby behind the counter, “but I think I’d be a third wheel.”
Emma agreed and glanced over at her cousin who was busy making cupcakes. Brandon was by her side, dipping his finger in the batter. “You’re probably right.” She sighed dramatically. “I guess you could stay with me.”
“I was thinking of asking Betty if she had an extra room. After all, she is a great kisser.”
She laughed and swatted him playfully.
“This is good, Emma Stevens, real good,” Jason repeated his declaration from earlier, tangling his fingers with hers.
She snuggled into his chest. “How do you know?”
“You know, I don’t. I guess I’ll just have to believe.” He smiled down at her. “I can do that now. You taught me.”
Her heart melted. Maybe she’d taught him the power of faith, but he showed her how to open her heart to let something great in. She looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. “I do have one more fact.”
“I thought we were done with facts.” He swept her hair away and softly kissed the base of her neck.
She took a deep breath. Not because she was afraid of what she was about to reveal or wasn’t sure she was ready to take a leap. Far from it. In his arms, she wanted to savor this amazing moment leading to her admitting this one wonderful fact she knew to be true.
“Fact, Jason Levine.” She brushed her lips across his. “I love you.”
THE END
The Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls Series
Batter Up
Tangled Up
Kiss and Make Up
Holiday Hook Up
One Sweet Match Up
All Dressed Up (Coming Soon!)
Read more books by Robyn
Falling for Mr. Wright
Destination Wedding
Holiday Wedding
Sweet Texas Secrets (Continuity Series)
The Emerald Springs Legacy (Continuity Series)
About the Author
For more information on Robyn’s romantic comedies, release updates, and exclusive giveaways that always involve fun gift cards, sign up for her e-newsletter at www.robynneeley.com.
Curious about the next bachelor of Buttermilk Falls? Read chapter one of
TANGLED UP.
Tangled Up
“This is never happening again.” Abby Stevens sat up and searched for her favorite orange cashmere sweater under the tangled sheets. Ruffling the navy blue duvet, she finally spotted it across the messy bedroom. Of course. It had been peeled off and tossed onto the floor hours ago, now peeking out under a red and white flannel shirt. Her brown, laced up high boots chucked to the side.
“Five words I know all too well.”
She twisted her torso toward her in-bed companion who wore nothing but his typical morning-after, smart-aleck grin. “Well, I mean it this time, Brandon Swift. We are not—and let me be perfectly clear—not doing this anymore.”
“If you say so.” He folded his arms behind his head, obviously not convinced. “So, I guess a round before you leave is out of the question?”
She glared at the man she’d spent yet another steamy night with tangled in his sheets. How on earth did ending up together virtually every evening for the last six weeks become her new normal? Amazingly hot lover? She’d give him that, but Brandon was not boyfriend material. She knew it. He knew it. Everyone in Buttermilk Falls knew that the latest bachelor in residence was hell-bent on keeping that status.
She wanted more, but definitely not with him. She was ready to fall in love and be in a long-term relationship with a man who loved her back. As pleasurable as being in his bed might be, what she was doing with Brandon was derailing her from reaching that goal.
It all started the night of the Final Fling, the town’s big, annual event celebrating the end of summer. If she hadn’t agreed to dance with him, she wouldn’t have known how awesome it felt to have his tight biceps around her or his warm breath tickling her ear.
The first time they’d slept together, she blamed it on the one too many Coronas she had consumed at the Buttermilk Tavern. But what about the other twenty-some odd times?
She leaned down, reaching for her jeans on the floor. She needed to get her head on straight, and that started by covering her naked body STAT. This sex-crazed, self-centered, Los Angeles Times reporter turned small-town bartender was not the guy for her. What he was was the only obstacle in her path to finding true happiness. Their tryst needed to stop now.
He placed a palm on her bare back, and that simple act sent a tingling sensation through her. “You don’t think I can put an end to this, do you?” she asked, trying to ignore his amazing massaging skills as his fingers drew imaginary circles.
“Well, according to your cousin, we are soul mates.” He laughed and rested his hand on her hip. “I don’t think either one of us have any say in the matter.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was implying. Her cousin, Emma, had a special—slightly unorthodox—gift for predicting true love with their late grandmother’s enchanted mixing spoon and fresh cake batter. Emma had been matchmaking Buttermilk Falls bachelors at the Sugar Spoon bakery for years.
That was until six weeks ago during Emma’s Batter Up night. On that horrible evening, Abby’s name appeared in a batch Emma had whipped up for Brandon. “Just because your batch spelled out my name means nothing.”
“It means we’re
going to be together, Abby Stevens. Just accept it,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
She arched an eyebrow, fully aware the batter’s outcome was still a joke to him. “Like you have, Mr. ‘I’m Only Looking for a Good Time?’”
Brandon shrugged his answer.
“Exactly.” She swung her legs off the bed. She didn’t care about her cousin’s gift or Brandon’s inability to commit. This man was not her soul mate.
“Red, you know I’m not long-term material.” He sat up and gently moved her wavy hair to the side, kissing her exposed neck, a move that he did often and always ended with her falling back into his arms. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun,” he whispered. “I thought that’s what you wanted, too.”
She cocked her head as his lips traveled to her earlobe. To say what they’d been doing the last few weeks was fun was probably an understatement, but did she even like this guy? Her rational thoughts tried desperately to break through the sensual haze forming in her head as he nibbled on her ear. “You are very bad for me. I’m going to prove to you, and everyone in Buttermilk Falls, that, for once, my cousin was wrong.”
“Right.” He reached over to his nightstand for a foil before flipping her onto her back and pulling the comforter halfway up. “Care to let me show you how bad I am one last time before this never happens again?”
Abby sighed, running her hands down his rock hard abs. “This is the last time,” she insisted before his lips crushed hers.
Even if her body always fell victim to his touch, her heart and head were on the same page. Brandon Swift was not the guy for her. It was then and there Abby realized she’d have to take matters into her own hands to end what they were doing once and for all, and that might have to involve a little bit of magic.
Copyright © 2014, 2015 Robyn Neeley
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions
