Page 6 of Cupcake of the Month (Just Add Peaches #2)

Wendy threw her cousin a murderous glare.

Jordan kept her mouth shut, letting the two cousins voice their opinions about their aunt’s activities.

“You girls have been doing so well, taking ownership with the Hall since Maybelle passed and working with the brewery. I can leave and not worry about things falling apart while I’m gone.” Eulalee’s eyes misted. “I’m so proud of what y’all have accomplished. I know your Grandma would be, too.”

“Geez, Aunt Eulalee. How can I argue with you after you say things like that?” Wendy complained. Rob gave her a kiss on her cheek.

“You can’t. Mac and I already have our tickets.” She beamed, her face flushing as she revealed more of her secrets. “And we’re going to Paris.”

This time the silence ticked by. Jordan watched her friends’ faces reflect their thoughts as they came to terms with what their aunt had said.

“Mac?” Brandi finally asked.

“Our produce guy?” Wendy chimed in.

“His assistant Duarte is ready to take on the job alone, so this is good timing all around.” She tucked a loose lock of her white hair behind an ear. “We may never get this chance again.”

“I think it’s great,” Jordan said. “You go to Paris and have a wonderful time.”

“Yes,” Rob said when the other two women remained silent. “We’ll take care of everything here.”

Wendy typed something on her tablet before attempting to smile at her aunt. “Paris is lovely this time of year.”

Aunt Eulalee held out her arms. “Thank you, honey.”

Jordan snuck a glance at Rob when Wendy walked into her aunt’s embrace.

Only a few short months ago, Wendy would have balked from admitting she wanted or needed physical comfort, but Rob had helped her accept that enjoying the touch of another didn’t make her weak.

He was grinning, love and adoration sparking from his hazel eyes.

“I’ll put something on the alumni social media pages again for the new chef.” Brandi swiped at her eye. “It found us Anthon. Maybe lightning can strike twice.”

Eulalee dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron. “If that doesn’t work out, you might try the guy who does the Friday cooking demonstrations at Essie’s. I know it’s hard to mess up clear instructions, but his dishes always seem to have a little something extra.”

“Oh, we know him, actually,” Wendy said. “Jordan, you do, too. Josh Lukasik. Remember him from college? You guys dated or something, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jordan forced a smile. Definitely or something. “Josh. I haven’t seen him at Essie’s before.”

“He’s usually tucked away in the back of the meat department.” Brandi fluffed her hair. “Maybe I’ll go see him. Today is Friday after all.”

The jealousy that twisted Jordan’s stomach was ridiculous. Josh didn’t owe her anything, and Brandi flirted with everyone.

“We have about four hundred jars of canned peaches in the basement storeroom,” her friend continued.

“We need the last of the crop from the orchard to make sure we had enough to last at the Inn until next season, so there’s no more left for the Fountenoy Hall label for Belle’s.

Other than that, whiskey production is going well.

We’re about ready to bottle the five-year brew. ”

“Can’t wait to taste it.” Wendy tapped around on her tablet. “Brandi, when you go to Essie’s to talk to Josh, can you get some salmon and chicken?”

Brandi checked her schedule. “Roofers are coming in the early afternoon, actually. Forgot about them.”

“I’ll do it.” Jordan spoke before she could stop herself. Did she really want to see Josh again that badly? “Pick up the food, I mean.”

“Perfect. We also have stuff for the homeless shelter.”

“I’ll drop it off first,” Jordan said.

“Okay. Let me post tonight’s menu to the web site.” Wendy tapped around her computer.

Almost immediately, the house phone rang for reservations for the small dinner service. Since there were so few spaces available, the seats filled up fast.

“Your brothers are working on a program for our room availability calendar,” Wendy told Jordan between phone calls. “And we have someone in mind for the social events coordinator position you and your strategic talent management expertise browbeat us into creating.”

“You know I’m right,” Jordan said. “You hate dealing with people who can’t make up their minds and Brandi wants to focus on running the brewery. So who’s going to do it?

Wendy pulled her lower lip between her top teeth and cast a glance at her cousin.

“You?” Brandi asked.

***

Josh turned off his phone when he heard his little brother shuffling out of his room. Zach would notice the display glowing from behind the room divider and was nosy enough to ask Josh who he was texting.

Seeing Jordan last night had sparked hot, wet fantasies. And not the normal, licking, touching, exhausted slumber afterward kind. No, more like a quiet, romantic candlelit dinner or holding hands during a walk along the edge of Scarlett Springs kind.

She had never been far from his mind. He was so far beyond pathetic.

Since he was awake, he rolled off the futon and grabbed a t-shirt, then left his semi-private space.

Zach poured his cold oats cereal, a textbook tucked under one arm. “What are you doing up?”

“Good morning to you, too.” Josh’s eyes roamed the small kitchen.

The heavy punching bag hanging from the ceiling nearly blocked his view of the stack of envelopes piled neatly in front of the temperamental toaster.

He hadn’t noticed it last night. A surge of panic sprang up from his gut. “This the mail?”

Zach added the milk and glanced up, his blue eyes an exact replica of Josh’s own, but his blond hair was a contrast to Josh’s brown and a gift from his father. “Yeah, from yesterday. Nothing from Mom or Dad.” He went to the fridge, smacking the heavy bag as he walked by.

“Keep your left up.” There wouldn’t be anything from Zach’s parents because they didn’t have their latest address.

Zach obliged, adding his middle finger along with it.

“Smart ass. Make sure you do that the next time your caseworker shows up.”

His brother settled in with his cereal and opened his textbook. The comfortable silence of the kitchen was broken only by his turning pages and Josh flipping through the mail.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna be late.” Zach closed his book and scurried out of his seat.

“Language,” Josh admonished, but his brother was already in his bedroom.

He soon reappeared and hiked his backpack onto his thin shoulders. “See you, big brother.”

“Make good choices,” Josh responded. They bumped fists and Zach was out the door.

The echo of his footsteps bounced off the staircase.

Josh glanced at the clock on the microwave.

There was time before he had to leave for his soul-sucking eight hours at the wholesale store.

The single bed in Zach’s room was tempting, but the punching bag wouldn’t leave him with mindless thoughts of Jordan.

He worked up a good sweat for the next half hour, then showered it all off under the weak trickle of water and got ready for work.

When he hit the lobby, the door to the first-floor apartment creaked open and Berry popped his head out.

The man must have installed monitors and sensors in the building. Or he was just that perceptive.

“Okay.” Berry’s mouth moved like he was chewing on something. “It’s you.”

“Yeah.”

Berry scanned the hallway. “All right. Take care now.”

Josh biked to the post office to check his box.

He first got one because constantly updating his address every time they moved was too much work.

Then it became a way of keeping Zach from knowing about the letters his parents sent.

The ones still full of lies and excuses. The ones he reported to the FBI.

A couple of bills, an advertisement to a sport supply store opening nearby. And shit, one of those envelopes with an artsy logo and fancy font. Letters were never good when hoping for a phone call. He opened it anyway, knowing what it was going to say.

Dear Mr. Lukasik, blah blah blah, many qualified candidates for the sous chef position, yada yada yada, sorry and good luck. He crumpled the letter in a ball and tossed it into the trash.

Even with helping Barb in the kitchen during catering jobs, his credentials weren’t enough to convince any upscale restaurant he was worthy of a chance.

He hefted his backpack onto his shoulders. The bike ride in the humid August air obliterated the good of his morning shower, but it saved a ton on gas. Nothing a few minutes in the meat freezer wouldn’t cure.

He pushed through the double doors to the back of the meat department and grabbed the stupid green Essie’s apron off his hook before pulling open the heavy metal door.

“Dude.” Kenny said his usual greeting as he shoved a crate onto a shelf. His slow gaze took in Josh from his head to his toes.

“Hey,” Josh answered. He stood among the stacks of frozen meat and fish and let the air cool him down.

The younger man stared at him for a few seconds, his shaggy brows creating a V on his forehead, then shook his head, his voice full of sympathy. “Dude.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” Kenny nodded, then took a box of frozen seafood and left Josh alone.

Josh closed his eyes until his skin was dry and pebbling. This is what he had needed after seeing Jordan last night, but he could hardly sneak into Essie’s after hours for it.

He left the freezer and washed up, then brushed by his manager to dig into the ground beef. The people of this town liked their meat red and in large quantities.

“Lukasik, you’re late,” George barked at him.

Josh wasn’t, but he didn’t acknowledge his manager beyond a nod.

“This has to be the fifth time this month. Any more and I’ll have to write you up for it.”

His timesheets would bear witness that George was mistaken—or lying. Josh continued measuring the meat.

“Pay more attention to the clock next time.”