Page 10

Chapter 10

Jack

Oh.

My.

God.

As I walked hand-in-hand with Henry, I wondered briefly if I was dreaming. Was the orchard covered in chemicals causing me to hallucinate?

Henry gave my hand a squeeze. Up ahead, three men could be seen as we walked toward a little cabin-like structure.

Nope. I wasn’t dreaming.

I’d kissed Henry, and he’d kissed me back.

I wasn’t sure if either of us had any clue what the heck we were doing, but it felt right to be clueless with Henry by my side.

“You ready for this?” Henry’s words were gruff and laced with anxious concern.

“Is it going to be painful?” I asked, only somewhat joking.

“Mostly for me, probably,” Henry groused. “I’ve never really introduced someone to my family before.”

“Just tell them I’m a friend if that helps.”

Henry gripped my hand tighter. “You are a friend, but I won’t hide you. I don’t lie to my family. Unless you’re not ready to be introduced as…” He paused, cocked his head, and scratched his bead. “Someone I’m dating?”

The words took way too long to register in my head.

Someone he’s dating?

What?

Who’s he dating?

Oh.

Me.

He’s dating me.

I swallowed thickly. A dream. It had to be a dream.

I’d wake up any second to find Joseph and Douglas laughing and making fun of me for thinking I’d ever find someone who’d accept me just as I was.

Instead, I shook my head. “No, I’m good with that. It’s new for me, but I’m okay with it.”

Henry gave a solid nod as if steeling himself for a battle and ducked his head to press a kiss to my cheek.

Like they had a beacon trained to find Henry in new and unfamiliar situations, all three men stopped and looked our way at that exact moment. They were silhouetted against the whitewash of the cabin, the dusk of the setting sun casting long shadows around them.

As we got closer, I could see they were stacking bushel baskets. The hose hooked to an outside spigot led me to believe they’d sprayed the baskets earlier—maybe to get rid of dust and cobwebs ?

“Is it time to pick the peaches?” I asked Henry.

“Different sections of the orchard should be ready to pick at different times, but yeah, we’ve started picking.”

Hudson sprayed his hands with the water hose and dried them on his faded blue jeans. “Hi, I’m Hudson, Henry’s favorite little brother.”

Henry snorted, and my preemptive bristles relaxed a bit. I wasn’t sure why I thought Hudson might be rude or say something about Henry, but everything in me softened a bit at Hudson’s words.

Taking his hand, I shook it, and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Jack Garner.”

Lance stepped forward. “I’m Lance Ingram. My family owns the Sweet and Creamy Dairy Palace.”

I shook Lance’s hand as well. “I like your ice cream.” Pulling my shirt collar up, I tried to hide my embarrassment over such silly words.

But Lance beamed, and Hudson threw an arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Best ice cream around.” Hudson gave me a wink. “We’ll get you a t-shirt.”

With my cheeks flaming, I thought about some of the shirts I’d seen for sale at the Roadhouse. The sayings on them were chock full of innuendo, and I figured they were popular.

I Love Sweet & Creamy DP

I Want My Juicy Peach Sweet & Creamy

My Juicy Peach Loves It Sweet & Creamy

DP’d at the Sweet & Creamy

DP My Juicy Peach

My Juicy Peach Got DP’d and Rode Hard at Riggs’ Roadhouse

Sweet & Creamy – The Only Way I Want My Juicy Peach DP’ d

While part of me couldn’t help but wonder how far the pieces of Joseph’s head would fly if he ever saw me wearing a shirt like that, I couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through me at the fact that Hudson seemed to already be including me in the group.

Or maybe he just wanted someone as a walking billboard.

Henry and Hudson’s dad grunted and elbowed Lance as he moved closer. “I’m Casey Joe. Don’t listen to nothin’ that traitor says,” he growled, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward Lance. “Henry and Hudson are my boys. The snake used to be my best friend.”

“Dad…” Hudson warned.

Casey Joe held up his hands. “I’m joking, I’m joking.” He narrowed his eyes at Lance before glancing back at me. “Mostly,” he said with a smirk as he held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” I shook his hand. “I was sorry to hear you were in the hospital. Are you feeling better?”

Casey Joe grunted. “ Thank you , Jack.” He glared at the other men. “It’s nice when people are concerned, unlike these jackasses.”

Hudson rolled his eyes. Lance coughed to cover up a “Bullshit.” And Henry chuckled.

“Whatever, Dad,” Henry said. “Maybe we’ll start having a bit more sympathy when you follow the doctor’s orders to get healthier.”

Casey Joe grumbled something about rice cakes and water, pulled a Blow Pop from his pocket, ripped off the wrapper, and shoved it in his mouth. “Stopped smoking, didn’t I? That’s gotta be worth something. ”

“We’re proud of you.” Lance’s words were genuine, but his best friend grunted and ignored the man.

“What brings you to town, Jack?” Hudson asked as if trying to steer things away from the awkward.

Before I could answer, Henry stepped closer and wrapped an arm around my waist. The instant spark of heat in my gut and the gooey way that protective gesture made my heart feel went straight to my head, giddy excitement over being able to call Henry mine almost making me dizzy.

Hudson’s eyes grew wide and glittered with mirth as a shit-eatin’ grin filled his face while he watched his brother, a mixture of glee and shock painting his features.

“Jack’s stayin’ with me and he’s gonna be working at the Roadhouse.” Henry’s words were like gravel, daring anyone to say anything.

“The cake guy?” Hudson asked, his smile switching from teasing to actual happiness.

My cheeks heated, and I absently rubbed my shirt collar against my chin, but I nodded.

“Yeah, Jack’s gonna be making cakes for us.” The firm hold of Henry’s hand against my side eased my anxiety.

“Sam was tellin’ us how good you are,” Lance said. “Glad to have you on board.”

“Thanks.” I wanted to tell them I wasn’t officially hired just yet. Wanted to make sure they knew I was all about earning my place.

But Casey Joe interrupted my overthinking. “What you oughta do is fix up that extra space, been sittin’ empty for so long. ”

I noticed Henry and Hudson’s eyes meet and both men seemed to be thinking it through.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Henry said. “It’s set up right. Kitchen area just needs an oven.” He glanced down at me. “What do you think? You wanna do your cakes in Sam’s kitchen? Or have your own space?”

Before I could answer, Casey Joe spoke up again. “Of course he’d rather have his own space. What kind of question is that?”

And then everyone looked at me.

I wanted to pull the collar of my shirt up over my eyes and hide away, but none of these men were being mean or hurtful. So, I leaned into Henry and said, “I’m really grateful to have a job and get to do what I love. Any space is fine by me.”

“But if we set up that extra space with the right kind of oven, get you a good mixer, and put in some display cases, that would be a good place to bake and decorate, right?” Henry asked.

I could tell his mind was already going a million miles a minute. “It would,” I started.

“But?” Henry smoothed down his beard, scowl lines marking his forehead.

Biting my lip, I continued, “It would be great, but I can make cakes anywhere. That stuff’s expensive?—”

Henry waved off my protest. “It’s a business expense. If we do it up right, you’ll be bringing in money to the Roadhouse.”

Hudson grinned. “Might as well just let him do it. Once he gets something in his head, it’s impossible to talk him out of it. ”

Casey Joe slapped Henry on the back. “We’ll help with sprucing the place up.” He turned to me. “What kind of cakes do you make?”

“Pretty much anything. Birthday cakes, wedding cakes, cakes for events. I really like to match cakes to certain foods and flavors.”

“Sam said you were talking about cakes to go with Henry’s drinks,” Hudson said.

Henry eyed me. Was he hurt?

I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fun to pair up cakes with drinks or foods.”

“That sounds really cool,” Hudson said. “I’d love to try your combos.”

God.

Was I really so starved for praise and positive attention that those simple words from Henry’s brother could send me to Cloud 9?

“Keep your grubby paws to yourself,” Henry groused which only made Hudson beam and Lance chuckle. “If anyone gets to try his cake, it’s me.”

Hudson and Lance nearly combusted, and Henry’s scowl deepened.

Instead of feeling like I was the butt of someone’s cruel joke, the atmosphere in the orchard with these men was one of family and camaraderie. Like for the first time since losing my mom I actually belonged. I had friends, and dare I say, family .

I leaned into Henry’s side. “It’s fun to think of the mix of flavors, textures, and colors to compliment meals and drinks.” Glancing at Henry, I caught him studying me.

Again .

“What would you put with the Lemon Drop Martini?” he asked, his eyes never leaving mine like he was completely invested in my answer.

Swallowing, I pulled my collar up and rubbed it over my chin. “Probably a dark chocolate with sea salt. Maybe add in a ribbon of caramel.”

“What about to pair with the Peach Sour?”

I held the collar of my shirt between my teeth while I recalled the flavor of the drink. “A spice cake—cinnamon, ginger, clove—with a rich, sweet vanilla bean frosting.”

“Damn, can we get a flight of drinks and cake?” Lance asked. “That sounds delicious.”

His words held a teasing quality, but Henry’s eyes snagged on mine, and the whole group grew quiet.

“Could you pair pretty much any drink with cake?” Henry asked.

I nodded as ideas zipped through my head.

“Flights of cake and drinks,” Hudson said. “That’s perfect. We can make a little seating area on Jack’s side too, for people who want to have their cake?—”

“And drinks too,” Lance finished, smiling broadly at Hudson. “That would be a perfect little section of the menu. Have Your Cake and Cocktails Too . Play on the famous saying, ya know?”

“Rotate drink and cake specials,” Henry said.

“We could have a set of two or three cake and drink pairings that we always offer, a rotating specialty drink with a matched cake, and some sort of cake to pair with the dinner special each week,” I rambled on, plans stampeding through my mind faster than I could process them .

“We’re happy to provide all the orchard fresh peaches you might need for any of your cakes,” Hudson said.

“And the Dairy Palace has the ice cream covered,” Lance offered.

“What if you did a newsletter type thing?” Casey Joe raised his brows when we all looked his way. “What?” he asked around his Blow Pop. “Like people could sign up for a newsletter to get drink and cake recipes or some shit like that. Get ’em in with a coupon or announce sales or specials. People like that shit.”

Henry glanced my way, and I couldn’t help the giddy anticipation bubbling through me.

“Cake and cocktails?” I asked.

He grinned, and my insides melted. “Let’s do this.”