“Where are you?” Jenna Tucker demanded when Brandy set aside the loaf of dough she’d been kneading and picked up her ringing cell. “Shark Tank is about to start. I made the queso and you’re supposed to bring home an extra bag of Doritos. We’re almost out.”
“I’m sorry, Jenna. I completely forgot. I’m still at the bakery.”
“Surprise, surprise. You’re a workaholic, you know that, right?”
“Look who’s talking. I haven’t seen you in three days.”
“I’ve been inoculating cattle out at the Browns’, but that doesn’t mean I was doing it twenty-four/seven. I did stop to eat. And sleep. And talk to this really cute cowboy named Tim. He’s from El Paso and he’s got blond hair and green eyes and the cutest dimples you’ve ever seen. And don’t even get me started on his butt.”
“What about Jason?” Brandy mentioned Jenna’s current squeeze.
“Jason and I are on the outs.”
“Does he know that?”
“Not yet, but he will just as soon as he picks me up tonight. He invited me back to his place later for a quote—special romantic dinner—end quote, and you know what that means.” She said the words with the same enthusiasm she reserved for telling pet owners that they were about to lose their loved one. “He’ll pull out the ring and I’ll tell him it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“That’s what you’re going to say?” Brandy added the loaf she’d just finished to the dozen others spaced out on the large metal tray.
“Of course.”
“You’re sure?” She headed for the sink and shoved her hands beneath a warm stream of water. A quick squirt of antibacterial soap and she washed the flour away before cutting off the faucet and reaching for a hand towel. “You’re not going to tell him that you’re allergic to platinum and that’s why you won’t wear his ring, are you?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you mention it, that is a pretty clever excuse.”
“It’s terrible.” She set the towel aside. “And it’s sure to get you into trouble and stuck with a stalker just like the time you told the last guy that you needed space. He thought you were claustrophobic and now we’re still fielding phone calls from that hypnotist who swears he can help you with your issues.”
“I don’t have issues. I just hate killing someone’s dream. You know me. I’m an optimist.”
“You’re a wuss.” Brandy grabbed the tray and slid it into the warm oven to let the dough rise overnight.
“I’m an optimistic wuss. It isn’t my fault if these guys are so in love that they don’t want to let go. It’s not like I encourage them. I do exactly the opposite.”
“You think you do, but you don’t say it outright, and most men, in case you haven’t figured it out, can’t exactly take a hint. No games. Just break it off. Straightforward. To the point. Drop the ax.”
“Consider it done.”
“I mean it, Jenna. If you’re through with this guy, nut up and let him go. Fast and clean.”
“Will do. You sure you can’t take a few hours off to make Shark Tank? You need a little fun in your life.”
Brandy knew that. She felt it in the steady trembling of her body and the ache in her nipples. And all because Tyler was back in town and she couldn’t stop thinking about that all-important fact, no matter how many loaves of bread she rolled and kneaded until her elbows ached.
Not that she was admitting as much to Jenna. Or anyone for that matter.
That was the thing about her “arrangement” with Tyler. They weren’t an item. They didn’t gab on the phone. Or go out on dates. Or swap stories over ice cream cones at the Dairy Freeze. They hooked up. No talking about it. Not to each other. Not to other people. No talking, period.
Which meant she shouldn’t be the least bit irritated that he hadn’t alerted her to the fact that he was back in town. He didn’t usually give her a heads-up. Rather, he rolled back into Rebel, they spotted each other, and bam she showed up or he showed up, and they hooked up.
It was no frills. Easy.
“Tonight’s episode is going to be super good,” Jenna went on, pulling her from her thoughts. “They’ve got these guys who make flour out of actual crickets. It’s supposed to be really healthy and I imagine there’s a market for it, but just the thought of biting into a strawberry-flavored cricket cupcake gives me the heebie-jeebies. What do you think?”
“I think you’re going to have to record it and give me a rain check. I’m working on this new recipe and I might be out a little later than usual.”
“Late as in an hour or two? Because Jason’s working until nine, so we’re doing an after-hours supper. I could hit the PAUSE button and wait for you.”
Brandy glanced at the full oven ready and waiting for tomorrow morning. “I’m afraid I might be a while.”
“Want me to swing by before Jason gets here and bring you some food?”
“No,” she blurted so fast that she startled herself. “I mean, I already ate a few leftover muffins to tide me over until I get home. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. So what’s up with Callie? Did she call you about the dress?”
“Yes, and I’m scheduled for a fitting next week. Have you seen it?”
“No. She says it’s a surprise that we’re going to love.”
“It’s a bridesmaid’s dress. I seriously doubt there will be anything even close to love involved. You remember that last dress I wore in Katie Peterson’s wedding? Neon yellow, puffy sleeves, parasol to match. I swear I looked like a giant banana. Stop it, Jez.” Jenna said to the yapping dog in the background. “That’s my Dorito.”
“I picked up doggy treats yesterday. They’re in the pantry.”
“She hates those, but give her a ranch-flavored Dorito and she’s all over it.”
“She’s spoiled.”
“She’s picky.”
“She’s you.”
“Only when it comes to men. Don’t work too hard, sis,” Jenna told her. “Gotta go. The show’s starting.” The line went dead and Brandy hit the OFF button.
She reached for a towel and some cleaner and spent the next few minutes wiping down the cabinets as Luke Bryan drifted from the small iPod dock that sat in the corner, crooning about lost love and stripping it down and getting back to the way it used to be.
And as much as she tried not to, she found herself thinking about Tyler. Wanting him.
Wanting it, she reminded herself. She was only human, after all. A normal, red-blooded female with wants and needs.
She turned, her body shifted, and her nipples rubbed against the lace of her bra. An ache shot through her and she caught her breath.
Okay, so maybe she was a little more worked up than the average female. She thought of all the rumors that had circulated about her courtesy of all the boys she’d turned down during high school. Boys too embarrassed to admit the truth for fear that they were the only ones not getting any action. And so they’d lied, and her reputation had grown.
But then Tyler McCall had peeled off her clothes and made her realize she wasn’t that far off from the sex-crazed girl the boys had always painted her as. So desperate, in fact, that her hands trembled and her knees shook as she moved about the kitchen. It would be so easy to let her need get the best of her. Just like her mother, who’d fallen hard and fast for Brandy’s father and, in the process, forfeited her own dreams.
She gathered the strength her mother had never had and steeled herself against the unsettling thought. She wasn’t going to drop everything just because Tyler was back in town.
Sure, she was wound up and due for a little stress relief.
But first she had to finish up here.
Nothing was more important than her bakery, and so she forced herself to slow down, take a deep breath, and focus on cleaning with the same painstaking care that she always did before finally putting the last of her supplies away. She double-checked that she had enough petty cash for the morning stream, restocked extra bakery boxes and bags near the register, and wrote the upcoming specials on the decorative chalkboard that sat propped atop the glass display case.
She made one last pass through the kitchen before stepping inside the walk-in pantry situated near the oven. A careful inspection of the five-gallon bucket and the mash that bubbled and popped, fermenting in the warmth of the small area, and she closed the door.
Killing the iPod, she hit the lights and headed for the front door. Locking up behind her, she walked toward her car parked near the curb and slid behind the wheel. Firing up the engine, she glanced at the dark street in her rearview mirror and shifted into drive. Tires ate up pavement as she pulled out onto the road and headed down Main Street. Her heart beat double time as she neared the first stop sign and gave herself a mental shake.
She forced her grip to relax on the steering wheel. It was just another night. Just another drive through town to the outskirts and a sharp right at the Farm Road that led to the Tucker spread.
Only when she reached the turn and hung a left in the opposite direction did she finally give in to the anticipation that whirled fast and potent in the pit of her stomach.
There was a time and place for everything.
And it was time for Tyler McCall.