Page 82 of Love in Mission City

I ducked my head. “I don’t want to interfere with—”

Wyatt waved me off. “It’s a great idea. Do you have a pumpkin pie recipe yet?”

I shook my head. I’d tried several times, but hadn’t found the right blend.

“Then you definitely need to coordinate with my mom.” He grinned. “She’s been baking all kinds of pies for more than fifty years.”

My eyes widened. “Your mom’s that old?” I’d met Mrs. Phelps earlier this year, and she hadn’t struck me as nearly that…elderly.

Wyatt laughed. “Oh, she’ll get a kick out of this conversation. Her mother started teaching her pie recipes when she was—in her words—knee-high to a grasshopper. These recipes have been passed down for generations. My farm has been in my family for even longer.” He cleared his throat. “I think… No, Iknowmy dad would be proud of what I’ve accomplished.” He pointed to the bok choy as well as the bounty of pumpkins and pumpkin pies.

Tate pulled him in for a quick, hard hug. “Your dad would be very proud.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt blinked. “And my mom comes from a family of farmers. They were truly suited, and I’m so glad she lives with us.”

“She’s at home taking care of Winnie. Who’s truly a handful.” Tate winked.

I’d met their dog. The golden lab was…charming. And yes, a handful.

The sound of the whistle at the other end of the hall had us all jumping.

I snagged the pumpkins and headed back to my booth.

Sales were steady throughout the morning, and Henry kindly watched my wares when I escaped for a very quick break. When I returned, gorgeous guy was at the booth.

The men were discussing pride blown-glass fairies.

Henry spotted me first. “Hey, Clay. Ashton was telling me how his cousin does clay figurines. He showed me the pictures.”

Ashton ducked his head. “Well, and then Henry showed me his work.” He offered a shy smile to Henry. “I’m definitely visiting your booth after I speak to Clay.”

I positioned myself behind the table. “Thanks Henry, I really needed a break.”

He grinned. “I hear you.”

I held up my soda. “Those veggie dogs are to die for.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll grab a couple to share with Johnson. Might even take a bite home to Zeus.”

Laughter bubbled out from me. “I know you love your dog, but these are too good to share.”

Ashton laughed. “Something tells me you don’t have a dog.”

I cocked my head.

“Nothing is too good not to share—unless it’s something that’s bad for your dog.”

Henry gently touched my shoulder. “Ashton’s right. Okay, I’m off.”

“Thanks again.” I handed him a jar of spice.

He tried to give it back.

I insisted.

He desisted. Then, with slightly pinkened cheeks, he took off.

After a moment, I met Ashton’s gaze. “How’d it go? With the pumpkin?” I offered my genuine smile.