Page 10 of Sweet Obsession (Honeysuckle, Texas #5)

The morning after Kade’s chaotic return, a surprising sense of calm had settled over the Sweet Ranch.

As his mother had predicted, Kade was sleeping in, a small indulgence after years of military structure.

Blake, however, felt a restless energy he couldn’t shake.

He needed to go to town, to see his grandmother, to tell her about the appointment Doc Conroy had arranged for her in a few days.

It was an errand, but it felt like a mission, one small, concrete step forward in the mess of uncertainty.

Forgoing a second cup of coffee, he grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door.

Alice Sweet intercepted him, her gaze swept from his baseball cap down to his designer boots and back up again.

She shook her head with the same expression she’d worn when catching one of her boys trying to sneak a frog into Sunday service.

“Here.” Handing him a well-worn cowboy hat hanging on a peg near the door, her tone left no room for argument.

“This is Texas, Blake, not Yankee Stadium.” She then nodded toward the window where his black rental SUV gleamed in the sun.

“And for heaven’s sake, take one of the ranch trucks.

That shiny thing makes you stick out like the Secret Service.

You might as well hang a banner across the back that shouts Blake Kirby is back in town.

Though I don’t understand why you being here has to be such a secret.

This town takes care of its own, and like it or not, you’re still one of ours. ”

“Yes, ma’am.” A slow smile tugged at Blake’s lips.

There was no arguing with Alice Sweet’s logic.

Sliding his sunglasses into place, he swapped his usual baseball cap for the cowboy hat, the traditional accessory settling comfortably on his head.

The parts about not needing to keep secrets and still being one of the town’s own, he wasn’t so sure about.

Driving down Main Street, he decided to stop at Heaven Scent first. The thought of seeing Jillian, even for a moment, was a stronger pull than he cared to admit. Pulling into an open spot in front, his phone beeped with another message from his manager, Phil. Did that man never give up?

Stepping away from the parked truck, he paused by the large plate glass window.

Jillian stood behind the counter, her head bent over something.

The little bell above the door chimed as he entered.

The air inside filled with a warm, fragrant cloud of vanilla, lavender, and the distinctly popular Honeysuckle.

The scene playing out in front of the counter stopped him in his tracks.

Not the candles, or the tantalizing aromas, but two little girls.

Considering their matching golden locks and pink hair bows, he’d guess sisters.

Both stood on tiptoes, their heads barely clearing the countertop.

One had a small, determined hand planted on a pale yellow candle, the other had meticulously arranged a small pile of coins and crumpled dollar bills in front of Jillian.

“Our mama loves yellow roses,” the older one announced with grave importance. “Tomorrow is her birthday. We want to give her this one.”

Jillian leaned forward, her expression a perfect blend of sweetness and serious consideration. Blake watched, fascinated. This was a side of her he hadn’t considered—not just a grown-up, but a business owner, a gentle pillar of her community.

“What a thoughtful gift. I’m sure your mama is going to love it.” She made a show of carefully counting the pile of money, her lips moving silently. Then, with the solemnity of a bank teller, she picked out a quarter and pushed it back toward the girls. “And here’s your change.”

The girls’ faces lit up like Christmas morning. “Really?” the one who’d been holding the candle asked.

“Really.” Jillian’s smile was nearly as bright as the two little girls. “And since it’s for your mama’s birthday, I think we should wrap it up special, don’t you?” She disappeared for a moment, returning with a small, cheerful gift bag and a cascade of tissue paper.

She wrapped the candle with a care and artistry that seemed far beyond the small transaction. Completely unbidden, a genuine smile spread across his face.

“There you go.” She handed the bag to the girl who’d counted out the money. “I hope your mama loves it.”

“She will!” both girls chorused, practically bouncing with excitement as they rushed past Blake without a second glance, their treasure clutched safely between them, already chattering about their mother’s surprise.

Blake stood there for a moment, something shifting in his chest as he watched Jillian straighten the counter.

Who knew that the quiet little kid who used to watch her brothers like they were a forbidden movie would grow up to be not only pretty and smart, but as sweet as her name?

Of course those kids didn’t have near enough money for the retail value of that candle, but that wasn’t the point.

Jillian was a good sport—no, she was more than that.

She was kind in a way that came from the heart, not from obligation.

Treating two little girls buying a candle for their mother as if they were her most important customers of the day.

The contrast between her world and his suddenly became very illuminating.

“That was nice of you.” He approached the counter.

Jillian looked up, startled. A soft pink crept up her cheeks. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“I was watching the master at work.” He leaned against the counter, still smiling. “Something tells me those girls didn’t have quite enough money for that candle.”

Her blush deepened. “They had enough,” she said quietly.

“For a three-dollar candle, maybe.”

“It was a three-dollar candle.” Her eyes twinkled.

Blake laughed, the sound surprising him. “Right. And I’m just a guy who plays a little guitar on weekends.”

“Well,” Jillian’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter, “you do play a little guitar.”

And just like that, he knew returning to Honeysuckle had been the smartest move he’d made in a very long time—and that realization was just a little terrifying.

“You’re home awfully early.” Fingers deep in a blob of dough, Jillian’s mother looked up from the kitchen table.

“Not a lot of tourists in town today. Carol can handle it on her own so I came home.”

Her mother stared at her a long moment before pounding at the dough again. “Blake went into town today.”

“Yeah.”

Flipping the dough, her mother lifted her gaze to meet Jillian’s. “Yeah, you saw him? Or yeah, someone told you?”

“I saw him.”

“Mm.” Her mom waited a beat, probably waiting for Jillian to expound. When nothing more was said, she sighed. “On the street? At his grandmother’s? His parents?”

“At Heaven Scent. He came in…” Jillian paused—why had he come in? “To look around.”

Before her mother could say much more than Uh-huh , the back door swung open. “Have you heard the latest?” Kade paused long enough to brush the muck from outdoors off his boots.

“Care to be more specific?” Her mother’s searing glare shifted suddenly to wide eyes. “Is it about Ray and the ranch hands? Did you see the sheriff?”

Shoulders deflating on a heavy sigh, Kade shook his head. “Sorry, Mom. I haven’t heard anything about that sniveling…” his teeth clenched. “It’s about Blake.”

“Blake?” Jillian’s heart stuttered against her ribs. “Is he okay? Is it his grandmother?”

Holding his hands up, palms out, Kade shook his head. “As far as I know, his grandmother is fine, but according to his manager, Blake is missing.”

“Missing?” Their mother looked up, her brows buckled in confusion.

He held out his phone for them to see. “It’s all over the news and social media. His manager, Phil, told reporters that Blake has not been seen since the end of the tour, and his whereabouts are unknown.”

“What the….” Jillian looked at the phone, swiped at the screen, and then swiped again and again. Slowly raising her head, she blinked and handed her brother back his phone. “Is this a publicity stunt?”

“Has the whole world gone nuts?” Dropping his briefcase on the hutch, Garret walked into the kitchen. “Who knew seventh graders were so into Blake Kirby?”

“They saw him?” Jillian asked.

“No.” Garret whipped out his phone. “He’s all over the news, social media, and now there are short videos popping up everywhere of him just about any place you can imagine. Thanks to AI, he’s getting around more than Carmen San Diego.”

“Or Waldo.” Kade shrugged.

“Hey,” the screen door squeaked open, “have you guys heard…” Sarah Sue didn’t get to finish her sentence.

“Looks like everyone has heard.” Kade slipped his phone into his breast pocket.

While more siblings and their spouses made their way into the family kitchen, their voices creating a symphony of sound, Jillian wondered what all this would mean for Blake.

With just about every family member accounted for, when the front door swung open, all eyes turned to see the man himself walking into the house. At the dead silence that had struck, and everyone’s attention on him, Blake stopped suddenly and glanced down at his feet. “Did I step in something?”

“That depends.” Kade walked over to his friend and handed over his cell phone.

Blake’s eyes grew wider with every swipe. “What the hell is Phil thinking?”

“That there’s no such thing as bad publicity?” Her mother’s tone dripped with enough sweetness to bake a cake.

Several voices began speaking all at once, but Jillian’s gaze remained fixed on Blake.

The way he scrolled through his own phone now, his lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw almost twitching from the tension, his gaze narrowed and focused.

Inching closer to him, she couldn’t resist reaching out, letting her hand rest on his arm.

Pleased when the tension in his shoulders eased the slightest bit, she stood there silently offering support.

When Blake heaved a sigh and placed his free hand on hers, still resting on him, the silent communication felt oddly comforting. At least to her.

His one hand still flicking at the phone, his other hand shifted, grasping her hand in his. That alone made her breath catch, but when he squeezed her hand before sliding the phone into his pocket, she thought her heart would pound its way out of her chest.

“I think I need to make a phone call.” Blake eased away, his gaze on Jillian. “This won’t take long.”

All she could do was nod. As he stepped onto the back porch, her siblings still talking over each other, her gaze landed on her mother.

From the way one arch rose higher than the other and her hands had stilled from their kneading, Jillian would guess her mom had been the only one in the room watching her and Blake’s interactions.

What she couldn’t figure out was why that seemed to bother her.

The entire trust fund plan would only work if their mom believed each and every one of them was marrying for love not for money to save the ranch, and yet, knowing this, knowing that soon, very soon, she and Blake would have to start putting on a show, this felt very different, and all too real.

And once again she had to ask herself if pretending with Blake wasn’t the worst idea she’d ever had.