Chapter 1

Billie

Pumpkin spice.

It's the smell of fall, the smell of my bakery, and—honestly—the smell of my whole life right now. I'm in the back, kneading dough for tomorrow's pumpkin bread orders.

The door to the kitchen swings open, and in strolls Shay, my best friend, employee and favorite instigator. She leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching me with a grin.

"Running low on pumpkins again?" she asks, looking at the empty containers surrounding me.

I sigh, wiping my hands on my apron. "Yeah. The town's on some kind of pumpkin spice frenzy. I can't keep up."

Shay raises an eyebrow, still grinning. "Well, lucky for you, your cowboy's got plenty."

I narrow my eyes at her. "He's not my cowboy."

Shay snorts. "Puhleeze. Rayne Miller might as well have your name tattooed on him. I see the way you look at each other."

I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I turn back to my dough. "I do not."

Shay crosses her arms, leaning into her teasing. "Do too. Every time he walks in here, it's like you're undressing him with your eyes."

I roll my eyes but can't hold back a grin. Rayne Miller is the kind of guy you can't help but notice. Those broad shoulders, thick forearms, and that ass… don't even get me started on the way he looks in his battered jeans. And his voice—low, rough… made for dirty talk. I shake my head. I can't let myself get caught up in my cowboy fantasies right now.

"Just call the ranch," Shay says, breaking through my rapidly escalating thoughts. "You know he'll show up."

I hesitate for a second. She's not wrong. Every time I need pumpkins, Rayne's the one who shows up, even though he has a whole team that could do it for him.

I grab my phone and dial the ranch, trying to play it cool while Shay watches with barely contained excitement.

It rings twice before someone picks up. "Miller Ranch."

I clear my throat. "Hi, it's Billie from the bakery. I was wondering if you had any pumpkins available for delivery? I'm running low."

There's a brief pause, then the voice on the other end says, "We'll send some over. How many do you need?"

"Three dozens, if you can spare them," I say, glancing at Shay, who's smirking like she knows exactly where this is going.

"Got it. They'll be there in ten."

Shay raises an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Rayne's doing the delivery?"

I shrug, pretending to keep my cool. "Didn't ask."

She grins. "You didn't have to."

I try to focus on the dough in front of me, but I can already feel my heart speeding up. Ten minutes until Rayne walks through the door, and I can't lie—my thoughts are all over the place. The guy's all muscles and grit, and every time I see him, it gets harder to keep my head straight. He's got this brooding look, and I'd bet good money his cock is just as thick as the rest of him.

Oh, My God! What am I even thinking?

* * *

Rayne

One of my guys could have handled this delivery, but when I heard Billie needed more pumpkins, I was out the door in no time. Doesn't matter that I've got a full schedule—this is one delivery I'm handling myself.

Billie Robinson's been under my skin since the day we met. There's something about her—those curves, that lush mouth, her big brown eyes, kind heart, warm laugh, and hard-working personality. And there's the way she looks at me when she thinks I'm not paying attention. But I am. Always. And every time I see her, all I can think about is how she'd feel under me, moaning my name, her pussy tight and wet around my cock. How she would look heavy with my child. Round and glowing. How it would feel to be the one to bring that smile to her face. Hold her in my arms. Push away her hair and bury my nose in the crook of her neck. Get drunk on her scent. Every day. For the rest of our lives.

I shake myself out of my fantasies and load the crates of pumpkins into the truck, my muscles straining under the weight. I don't mind. Actually, I like the feeling. It's a reminder that I'm about to see Billie…

The bakery's close, and when I pull up, I cut the engine and head to the back of the truck to unload. The bell jingles as I push open the door. And there she is. In the kitchen, kneading dough, her apron tied around her waist, and her hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail. She's all professional, but I can't help noticing the few loose strands framing her face. She's fucking beautiful.

"Hey," I grunt, my voice coming out hoarse like every time I see her. I set the crate down by the counter.

Her gorgeous brown eyes flick up to meet mine, and she gives me this broad, thankful smile that hits me right in the gut. She looks me over. And I can see it in her eyes. She's thinking about me the same way I think about her.

"Hey Rayne," Billie says, wiping her hands on a towel. "Thanks for bringing these."

I nod, watching the way her full hips sway as she moves. She's got curves that make a man want to grab hold and never let go. I've thought about it more times than I care to admit—her bent over the counter, tits bouncing while I fuck her deep. But also just lying in bed, her warm, soft body snuggled up to mine…

"You need more later, let me know," I say abruptly, keeping my voice steady, even though my mind's wandering to places it shouldn't be.

Billie gives me a small smile, but there's something else in her eyes. Something that makes my dick twitch. "Will do." Fuck, that soft, throaty voice.

I nod again, turning to leave. But before I step out, I glance back at her, my eyes trailing down her body. "See you around, Billie."

I don't miss the way her breath catches just before I walk out.