Page 91 of Only for the Season

The bakery windows rattle with the wail of an approaching siren. A moment later, a police car slams to a stopat the curb in front of the bakery. My brow furrows as two police officers climb out of the vehicle.

Dad glares at me. “Did you call the police on us?”

“I didn’t.”

“I did,” Cindy hollers from where she’s standing behind the counter. “I don’t put up with parents emotionally abusing their children in my presence.”

“We are going to have a serious talk one of these days,” Parker says.

“Just as soon as you explain why you’re not living in the loft above the bakery, we’ll have our sit-down.”

Parker scowls at her before returning her attention to our group.

The bell above the door chimes as the two police officers stroll inside.

“Hi, Lucas! Hi, Weston!” Parker waves in greeting. “If you’re here to find out what special Christmas pie I’m baking this year, I’m not telling.”

Lucas groans. “I still haven’t lost the five pounds I gained from eating your Thanksgiving pies.”

“I have. You just need to find the right exercise.” Weston winks.

Lucas frowns. “I have a teenager who has impeccable timing.”

“How is Natalia?” Parker asks.

He grunts. “Typical teenager who knows more than I do.”

My gaze dips to Parker’s stomach. I can imagine it round with our child. A child she would love unconditionally because Parker doesn’t know how to love any other way.

A child she would never give up on. Because Parker is loyal to her bones. She’s even suffering to pay back her parents, who don’t deserve her love or loyalty.

“And getting into all kinds of trouble because her mom is Chloe, the wild child?” Parker asks.

Lucas’s grin is full of love. “She’s a troublemaker.”

“Excuse me,” Dad says in a loud, entitled voice.

I grit my teeth as embarrassment fills me at his behavior. Why he thinks he’s better than everyone else in the world is beyond me. The only activity he excels at is spending money he doesn’t have.

Weston rests his hands on his utility belt. “Can we help you?”

“This woman.” He waves a hand toward Parker and I growl. She pats my stomach to calm me down. “Is trying to kick us out of the bakery.”

“Is this true, Parker?” Weston asks.

Parker narrows her eyes at my family. “They are not welcome in my bakery or on Smuggler’s Hideaway.”

Lucas herds my family toward the door. “Let’s go. Weston and I will escort you off the island.”

“Well, I never…” Mom declares.

Once my family’s in the backseat, the patrol car rolls out, red and blue lights strobing, siren slicing through the air.

As soon as they’re gone, Parker turns to me. “Before you say anything, I have no regrets. Yes, they’re your parents butthey were assholes and I won’t allow anyone to treat you the way they did.”

“I wasn’t going to complain.”

“You weren’t?”