Page 16 of Only for the Season

Parker? I wouldn’t mind spending more time with the beautiful woman. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman with her curves. Super models tend to be overly thin. They’re boring to have dinner with, but they’re usually up for just about anything between the sheets.

But I can’t do anything right with Parker. First, she thought I was a reporter. And when she learned the truth – I’m a billionaire who could buy and sell her bakery a million times over – she appeared disgusted by me.

“I don’t think Parker will rent to me.”

“Parker can’t be picky,” Eli mutters.

“What do you mean?” Is Parker in money trouble? I don’t understand how. She must have delivered over a hundred pies yesterday. And based on what Eli and Paisley paid, they weren’t cheap either.

Paisley elbows Eli. “Ignore him. He has a big mouth. What do you say? Shall I contact Parker?”

“Nah. I’ll drive over there. I want a look at the place before I commit.”

Besides, I don’t want to give Parker the chance to say no. If I’m there in person and she truly does need money, she’ll have a harder time denying me in person.

My hands tingle and my pulse quickens as excitement flows through me at the idea of seeing the baker again. My body doesn’t care how she hates me.

I agree. She’ll change her mind about me once she gets to know me.

And then… Well, then, maybe we can have some fun before I leave this island for good.

Chapter 6

“Nothing burns faster than cookies… except boundaries.” ~ Parker

Parker

Bake the pies with rum and sugar,

Fa la la la la, la la, yarrrr.

Stir 'til pirates start to stagger,

Fa la la la la, la la, yarrrr.

Roll the crust with flair and flourish,

I sing at the top of my voice as I spoon the dough for the Kelpie Crunch cookies onto a baking sheet and shove it in the oven.

I set the timer since I have no desire to scrape burned cookies from my baking sheet this morning. And even less desire to deal with the fire department. Although, I wasn’t joking about how cute the new firefighter is. Not as sexy as a certain billionaire, though.

Jeremy.Now there’s a sexy man I wouldn’t mind watching run into my bakery. Preferably without a shirt on. With his hair all messy and his light brown eyes focused on me.

Phew. It’s getting hot in here.

Too bad Jeremy’s a billionaire. Men with money are off limits with a capital O and a hell to the no. I’ve learned my lesson there and I don’t need a repeat.

I shove all thoughts of men and their treachery away and gather the ingredients for my baked peaches and cream whiskey muffins. I sing as I get to work.

Roll the crust with flair and flourish,

Hide the moonshine, don’t be slow!

If the smugglers start to scurry,

Feed them pie, then out they go!

“What are you singing?” a man asks from behind me.