Chapter 1

Callie

Exhaustion creeps over me as I slide one other pan of my well-known cinnamon twists into the oven. I haven’t been sleeping effectively currently. My eyes slide over to the place my telephone is mendacity open on the counter. I haven’t seen any new texts coming at present. Not since I blocked him on my telephone once more.

I’ve blocked my ex 1,000,000 instances during the last 12 months and each time he manages to get one other telephone quantity, one other likelihood to contact me and problem me.

He’s been instructed a number of instances to remain the hell away from me however he doesn’t take the trace.

And but, the brand new ones appear to be much more stuffed with vitriol than the primary ones.

I’m uninterested in this and I don’t know how one can cease it. The sheriff, Rhett, is an efficient man and each as soon as in awhile I kick round saying one thing to him however actually? How do I clarify loopy? He’ll most likely simply suppose I’m being overly dramatic.

That’s what my family thought and that’s why I took off for this tiny little city subsequent to the notorious Iron H Ranch sanctuary. If I’d identified what was out right here I’d have discovered one other city. I don’t need something to do with one other man. I can’t belief my very own coronary heart and head to make it possible for I’m secure.

The telephone buzzes on the counter and I suck in a breath, stealing a peek on the display and shuddering.

I do know that you just’re there and you may see this, Callie. We each know that you just stand up at a god-awful time every single day.

With out answering, I flip the telephone over and shiver, my eyes on the entrance of the shop.

Does he know the place I’m at? Jesus, I hope not. I’m not up for anymore of his fixed slams and put-downs.

I’m executed.

I pull one other pan of cookies out of the oven after which seize a pan of muffins with my well-known streusel-walnut topping on my banana muffins, sliding them within the oven and beginning the time, grimacing when the timer on the second oven goes off.

Whirling, I seize pot-holders and slide extra cinnamon twists out of the oven and wince when my thumb catches the sting of the recent pan. I’ve executed that extra instances than I can depend through the years. It’s a hazard of the enterprise.

However after I get extra cranberry biscuits with orange zest into the oven, I head for the business three-compartment sink and run chilly water over my thumb.

For some rattling purpose, my thoughts wanders to my favourite buyer. Not that he’s enjoyable to speak to. Or simple to speak to. Or hell…that he even talks.

However he’s horny as hell and simple on the eyes. And I’m only a woman in any case. A red-blooded nation woman who is aware of when a man seems rattling good in a pair of Wranglers.

If I used to be concerned with guys, I’d climb that one like a tree. However I’m not.

Pulling my finger out of the stream of chilly water, I groan once I see the tell-tale pink streaks of a light burn.

Grunting, I flip to examine the clock. Solely half an hour till I’m formally open and since that is the weekend, I’m certain that I’ll be busy as hell.

Saturdays are all the time a grab-bag of gross sales but it surely’s all the time busy. This time I’m placing out much more stuff to reap the benefits of the big range of clientele. However there’s just one shopper that I can’t cease enthusiastic about. One man that has my insides quivering like Jell-o.

And I don’t prefer it. Not one bit.

Fortunately, Rory Eastman barely notices me. That’s nothing new. His grass-green gaze seems by means of me each Saturday morning. His tousled caramel-blond hair that’s been lightened by the solar seems delicate sufficient for my fingers to slide by means of the silky strands like water. And when he walks out the door?

His ass in these Wranglers is a murals. He’s simply as stunning to look at going as coming.

So what’s a lady to do? Maintain her fucking coronary heart on lockdown, that’s what.

I sigh and slip the final pan of cooled muffins within the show instances, selecting them up and sliding them into place, cocking my head and learning them earlier than tweaking it and shutting the sliding doorways.

I head again to the again and choose up a recent cup of my fancy espresso that I make on my espresso machine. Contemplating my loopy hours, I suck down espresso prefer it’s my blood being pushed into my veins. I would like it.

I all the time want it on Saturdays much more. I don’t open till midday on Sunday in order that’s the one day that I get to sleep in. I sit up for that greater than I ever thought attainable.

I would like a transparent head to maintain my coronary heart in place. As a result of this woman wants one other bossy, grouchy man like she wants one other mortgage to repay.

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