11. Big Daddy License

11

BIG DADDY LICENSE

LIVVIE

B y the time Meadow and Dillon finally arrived to take over in the afternoon, my feet cried and ached and my head swam. They were so proud of me and the others for managing possibly the biggest day in the history of the pie shop. But they came with bad news.

While occupying two counter seats, they told of their latest phone call with Minnie and Jeb from Florida. With only one other couple eating pie at a corner booth, we all stopped what we were doing and listened.

“Minnie fell and cracked her hip. It’s not broken, thankfully. But the Doctor advises she not work for a while,” Meadow relayed the information, dabbing at the corner of her eye with a napkin.

Dillon hugged her from the side. “They’re going to prolong their stay in Florida because we all know that here Minnie would keep right on working. Now, don’t worry, because we think the shop will be fine, thanks to our hard-working staff.”

“But Minnie stocked our cooler and freezer with enough pies to last while she was on vacation, not nearly enough for a longer time away. Who will bake them, not to mention the cinnamon rolls and pastries? No one has the magic touch like Minnie,” Beverly cried, dabbing her eyes, too.

Great. I find a place I enjoy working at for the first time, only to have this happen. What if, without Minnie, the business failed? Fear struck me as a single mother having to find employment again.

Meadow took a deep breath in, as if braving forward through uncharted territory. She rubbed her baby belly; I’d heard she was due around Christmas. “I would do it, and I know all of Minnie’s tricks.”

“But we talked about this.” Dillon interrupted. “I worry about you, between your mayoral duties, two young children and our hormonal teenaged daughter at home, plus a baby on the way.”

“Well, thankfully, Minnie kept in touch with one of her former employees, Grayson Baker. He worked with her during his high school days and she’d inspired him to go on to culinary school. He’s earned quite the reputation, even setting up elaborate dessert menus at gourmet restaurants. We reached out to him, and lucky for us, he has some time on his hands. He’ll be staying here for a few months to help us get by through the holidays. And after that, we’ll see.”

A collective sigh of relief came from the group. At least my job would be safe through Christmas. I spoke up first. “I’m sure Tori will be pleased to hear it. If that’s all, I’m going to be in the storage room gathering supplies. The rush of orders today wiped out just about everything from straws to maraschino cherries.”

I excused myself and walked to the back, reading the scribbled list I hurriedly made as we worked all day.

I shut myself in the room and sighed against the door, relaxing for one minute. But not for long, as someone attempted to open it. Blake appeared as I scooted away, giving him room to enter.

“Hi. Do you need something?” I moved to the first set of shelves, rolling a nearby cart along with me, a jar of cherries the first item on my list to look for. I chuckled as he followed. “You can probably take the apron off now. Relieved of duty, captain. Mission accomplished.”

“Do I get an award for being the best helper? Your hero today?” He crowded behind me, his tone teasingly seductive. I turned, backing up to the shelf.

“You definitely went above and beyond.” My breath hitched at the nearness of him. I teased. “But I think we all did. Only I don’t see Beverly and Connor in here begging me for attention.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Begging? Maybe I wouldn’t have to beg if you’d open up to me just a little more.” The hint of a smile performed on his lips, while his hazel eyes sparkled with flecks of gold.

“Am I not moving fast enough for you?”

“I think you have a pretty high wall that I’m doing damned best to hurdle over. But here. Maybe this will help.” He dug out his wallet from his back pocket and produced a folded paper. “I swear, I’ll keep this in here as long as I’m alive. Like it’s my official Big Daddy License, even more important than my fishing and hunting license.” He quipped while opening the page up.

In front of me, he held it so I could read. There, in black and white print, it proved with 99.99% accuracy that Blake was indeed the father of River. I grinned at how proud he was about this.

“Congratulations. Of course, I told you so. Although there is that slight point-oh-one percent that calls into question—” I teased him.

“Shut it. The kid is mine.” He chuckled and put it away, turning serious again. “Actually, he’s ours. And we did a pretty great job making the perfect kid.”

“You could be biased.”

“I am totally biased, and crazy about him—and his mother.” He reached one hand above my head against a shelf and with the other he gently caressed his knuckles down my cheek. So sexy, I lost myself for minute. He leaned in, landing the softest kiss on my lips. Then another. And another.

My heart knocked against my rib cage and my body ached, yearning for a repeat of our first time, overtaking any protests my jumbled mind tried to conjure. My hands skimmed along his chest, linking fingers behind his neck, and I opened a little to his desire, deepening our kiss, inviting him with a skim of my tongue along his bottom lip.

He demanded even more, circling his arms around my waist, picking me up. My shoulders landed against a shelf. I winced from the wound my brother had put there. “Ow!”

“Are you okay? I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He set me back down, concern filling his gaze.

“It’s not you, Blake.” The moment gone, I blinked it away until clarity returned. How could I ever show him my scar? For that alone, I should walk away.