Page 86 of Love in Mission City

Smith chuckled.

I rang up the sale.

Smith insisted on paying for the jar they took with them, and I decided not to argue.

They moved away, and I returned my attention to Ashton. “Sorry, you were saying?

“Yes, Clay, I wanted to—”

“Oh, here you are.” A deep voice interrupted my discussion with Ashton.

I pivoted with a smile. “Oh hey, Constable Jacobs.”

The handsome and rather tall RCMP officer grinned. “It’s just Seth. I’m off duty.”

I didn’t know all the cops in Mission City, but Seth had done a presentation about drinking and driving during my senior year of high school that left a lasting impression on me. If I was driving, I wouldn’t even have one beer. Not worth the risk. “How can I help?”

“My neighbor down the road, Felix, was here yesterday. He mentioned I needed to grab pumpkin pie and pumpkin spice. My favorite fruit, of course. His husband, Jacob, said something about cookie samples…”

I held out the tray.

He grabbed a little paper cup. “I’ll take five. One for my mom, one for my sister, one for Colton, one for Dorrie—my colleagues—and, of course, one for myself.”

“Done.”

Seth turned to Ashton as I organized his order. “I’m Seth.”

Ashton gave a little wave. “Ashton. I’m…” He glanced at me.

“He’s a friend of mine,” I supplied. I didn’t get the sense Seth was being nosy. Quite the opposite—he was being friendly. He said he wanted to know everyone in town, and I didn’t doubt him.

“Well, great to meet you.” Seth handed me the cash, and I gave him a bag with five jars. “You guys have a nice day, eh?” He headed out.

I blinked over at Ashton. “Sorry. Apparently word about my super-secret recipe has gotten out and I’m doing a roaring trade. Like, seven-hundred and twenty-five…”

He grinned. “Yeah, I can see that. Look, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. But, do you think I can—”

“Oh, thank God you still have jars.” A woman with dark-brown hair and a little girl holding each hand approached. The lady offered a huge smile. “My friend Marnie said you had these. I work in the prosecutor’s office over in Abbotsford, and this year I’m responsible for office gifts. Well, that’s not true. My boss Zach is and, of course, hedelegatedthe job to me. Not because I’m a woman,” she raced to assure me. “But because I’m truly the best for the task.”

“Mommy, may I have a cookie?” The young girl with pale-blond pigtails pointed to my tray.

“I could give them their own, if it’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” The other girl, about four or five years old, pointed out. “We’re big girls.”

“Yes, you are.” Their mom offered me a smile. “Cookies would be amazing. And then I need to place an order for twenty-four jars since there’s no way I can carry them.”

“I could, if you’d like.” Ashton stepped forward.

The woman blinked. “That would be amazing.” She turned to me. “As long as I’m not going to empty you out.”

I shook my head. “I’ve got plenty.”

And a small line formed behind her.

Ashton ducked behind me, and then hefted a full box onto the table. Conveniently, twenty-four jars.

“Okay, that’s—”