Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“...a beautiful, sunny Monday here in the Beard,” Bert Stanton, one of the morning hosts, said. “We’ll have Chief Painter here soon with some fire prevention tips and then we’ll have a chat with Mick VanDyke, the winner of the weekend fishing tournament.”
“You know what, Bert? I heard he caught an eleven-pounder,” said Jeannie White, the other host.
“He was a whopper, for sure. I was there to see it. But before we talk to him and the chief, let’s have a word from one of our sponsors, Mort’s Bait Shop. They’re master baiters.”
I’d made the cherry pastries I was preparing so many times that I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew every measurement and direction by heart, so my mind wandered as I scooped and stirred.
The weekend was amazing. I left work at two on Friday for the two-hour drive to the cabin with Avon and Bess, and not getting a single phone call had made it seem more like a vacation than just a weekend.
Priscilla’s comment about Caden not having a life was still at the front of my mind. Usually, I didn’t have much of a life outside of The Sleepy Moose, either. It was nearly impossible to. Being chef here required overseeing the menu and food prep seven days a week. No one else who worked here had been to culinary school.
Spending time with Holt at the cabin had made me feel like more than just a chef. When he looked at me and said he thought I was beautiful, I felt like a woman. He smoothed out the rough edges in my self-esteem and made me wonder what it would be like to have a life outside of this place all the time.
It couldn’t be with him. My instinct to resist my attraction to him had been right. Now that he’d opened up to me about what his ex had put him and his kids through, I was even more convinced that it was too soon for him to date.
I’d always thought people saying everything was right about another person except the timing was bullshit, but I understood now. Truly caring about Holt, Spencer and Marley meant putting my selfish attraction to Holt aside to allow them more time to heal.
I smiled as I whisked baking powder into my flower, remembering the moment in the hot tub when he told me how much he liked me. Just knowing that had filled up something inside me that had been empty for a very long time.
I was desirable. My feelings for Holt had been an unexpected gift that showed me how much I was missing out on. If I could find that kind of connection with him, maybe I could find it with someone else, too.
Maybe I could even have kids of my own. Being around Spencer and Marley had reminded me how much I loved kids. Spending an hour in the work kitchen baking cookies with them filled me up more than preparing time-intensive fine cuisine did.
I was determined not to turn into Caden. He was in his midforties and often slept on the couch in his office because he had no one to go home to.
My kiss with Holt had awoken my desire, not just for him but for something more for myself.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Holt
“Dad, you can go now,” Spencer said.
I chuckled as I set a big bag of giant marshmallows on my parents’ kitchen table.
“Am I cramping your style, bud?” I asked my son.
“No, it’s just...the campout is starting. Grandpa has the tents all set up and the other kids are on their way.”
“And Grandma has some cookies fresh out of the oven!”
My mom presented a platter of monster cookies, my kids taking one in each hand. I grabbed one, too, saying, “Thanks, Mom.”
“Thanks, Grandma,” my kids echoed.
“I see a kid!” Spencer cried. “Bye Dad!”
He and Marley ran out the back door of my parents’ house to their fenced-in backyard, where a few neighbor kids had just walked through the gate with sleeping bags in hand.
My parents had planned a “campout” for Spencer, Marley and the neighbor kids they liked to play with when they visited. Dad had set up three tents and built a bonfire for later.
“They didn’t get to sleep until after eleven last night because they were so excited about this,” I said.
“We’re excited, too,” Mom said. “We missed out on doing things like this when they were younger.”
“You might be less excited when you have kids running in and out of the house at two a.m.”
She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’m making pancakes, sausage and eggs around nine in the morning if you want to come by for breakfast.”
“Yeah, I might.” I looked at my phone to see if Grady had texted me back about our plans tonight.
“You better not be working this afternoon,” she scolded. “It’s Svensday.”