Sprinkled with Love

by Faye, Jennifer

  Fifteen months later…

  If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

  Avery stood in the living room of the log home that he now shared with Jillian. He turned to the wall of windows that overlooked the Crooked S Ranch. For the first time in his life, he felt truly at home. He stared off into the distance at his ranch—their beautiful ranch.

  It was hard to believe that after such a rough patch in his life everything had come together so well. It might not have been an easy transition, but it was so worth it.

  And he couldn’t have done any of it without Jillian. She had always been there when he needed her. She was his source of strength when he felt weak. She was his best friend. And he tried his best to be those things for her.

  “Hey, husband, what are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be out tending to the livestock?”

  He turned to find Jillian standing there with a kitten in each arm, one black and white, just like Romeo, while the other kitten was all white. His wife smiled broadly. “Aren’t we lucky that your sister decided not to stand in the way of true love?”

  “What?”

  “You know, letting my mother take Marshmallow so the cats could be together. Now they’ll live happily ever after.” Jillian held out the squirmy black and white kitten named Oreo. “And they make such cute kittens.”

  Avery cradled Oreo in his arms, having a hard time keeping ahold of it as the kitten was in a constant state of motion. “Too bad your mother got Marshmallow and Romeo fixed. I could get used to having more kittens around the house. They are really smart.”

  His wife sent him a puzzled look. “How do you get that?”

  “They got us together, didn’t they?”

  Jillian laughed. “Is that what happened?”

  Avery nodded. “Romeo is a natural-born matchmaker.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry. These two furbabies are ours.”

  “Are you sure they’re old enough to leave their mother?”

  Jillian nodded. “Positive. But I had to promise my mother that we’d bring them back to visit.”

  Avery laughed. “I think we can do that. What about the other kittens?”

  “Well, Suzanna is taking one. My mother is keeping one so it’s not so hard for Marshmallow. And your sister wants one. Speaking of Beth, she phoned and wants to know if she can bring home her new boyfriend next weekend.”

  “She’s never brought home a guy.” Avery wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Should I be worried?”

  Jillian shrugged. “I don’t know, but she sounded really happy on the phone. We could make it a dinner party and invite Blake and Suzanna over too.”

  “They’ve been seeing a lot of each other.”

  “Yes, they have.”

  Just the way his wife said that clued him in that he was missing something. “What don’t I know?”

  “Well, it’s not for sure, but I think there might be wedding bells in their future.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” He’d learned that his wife had a good sense of people.

  “I think they make each other very happy. They belong together.” Jillian moved to the couch with the kitten. “One more thing. There’s an email from Jordan. He’s been reassigned to Germany.”

  Avery wasn’t happy to have his brother so far from home, but he was happy that Jordan was following his dreams. “I’ll email him back this evening.”

  Jillian placed the little white kitten, named Snowball, on the floor. “Can you watch them both for a second?”

  He nodded. “Where are you going?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  In the end, he may have lost that long-ago Bake-Off, but he’d won the most important thing in the world—the woman he loved. He had no idea that entering the competition would open his eyes to the important things around him.

  The funny thing was he thought by being a rodeo cowboy that he took risks and lived on the edge. It wasn’t until taking part in the Bachelor Bake-Off that he realized just how guarded he’d really been.

  The greatest challenge in his life had been putting his heart out there on the line. And now that he had Jillian in his life, he knew just how amazing life could be. He regretted wasting so much time figuring it all out.

  Jillian returned with two slices of pie and handed one over. “I found some apples in the fridge and thought I’d use them up. But if you don’t want any, I can give your slice to someone else—”

  “Oh no, this belongs to me.” He accepted the plate. He glanced over it. “How come this pie looks so familiar?”

  “Because I used the same recipe you used for the Bake-Off.”

  “I see. And is there any special reason for this treat in the middle of the afternoon?” He sensed that something was up, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it might be.

  His wife glanced away and shrugged, but there was clearly a smile on her face.

  “Okay. Out with it.”

  “How would you feel about some more family living here at the ranch with us?”

  “Besides your mother?”

  Jillian smiled and nodded.

  Construction had already started on her mother’s house on the property. Her mother wanted to be close to her daughter, but not crowd them by living under the same roof, so they’d compromised on a small house not far from the main house.

  So if Jillian wasn’t talking about her mother, was she referring to Jordan or Beth? He’d welcome them anytime. It was a given that the Crooked S was their home for whenever or however long they needed it.

  “I don’t mind. You know that I love our family.”

  “Good to know.”

  “When are they arriving?”

  “Oh, I’d say in seven or so months.”

  His gaze narrowed. “We aren’t talking about Jordan or Beth, are we?”

  Jillian’s smile broadened as she shook her head.

  His heart started to pound in his chest. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “Avery, you’re going to be a daddy.”

  “Woohoo!” And then he wrapped his free arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her close. He planted a kiss on her lips. Then a thought occurred to him and he pulled back. “You’re positive?”

  She nodded. “The doctor’s office confirmed it this morning.”

  “You mean when you had some errands to run in town and didn’t want me to go with you?”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew for sure.”

  “I thought we agreed that there would be no secrets in our marriage.”

  “It wasn’t a secret. I was just waiting until the right moment to tell you.”

  “Uh-huh.” And then he started to wonder if the house was big enough.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That five bedrooms might not be enough for this expanding family of ours.”

  “Avery, just how many babies are you planning on?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. But with Beth and Jordan each having a room that leaves just two spare rooms. And you never know. I’ve grown to like the idea of a large family.”

  Jillian’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “I think we’ll have to discuss this a lot more.”

  “Most definitely.” He pulled her closer and gave her a proper kiss.

  The End

  You’ll love the next book in the…

  Bachelor Bake-Off series

  Book 1: A Teaspoon of Trouble by Shirley Jump

  Buy now!

  Book 2: A Spoonful of Sugar by Kate Hardy

  Buy now!

  Book 3: Sprinkled with Love by Jennifer Faye

  Buy now!

  Book 4: Baking for Keeps by Jessica Gilmore

  Buy now!

  Book 5: A Recipe for Romance by Lara Van Hulzen

  Buy now!

  View the entire Bachelor Bake-Off series here!

  Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from

  Baking fo
r Keeps

  Book 4 in the Bachelor Bake-Off series

  Excerpt copyright © Jessica Gilmore

  “This is Lacey Hathaway and you’re listening to drive time here on KMCM, Paradise Valley’s very own radio station. I hope everyone’s enjoying this glorious sunny January day. Later on today we’ll be chatting to Lisa Renee about winter celebrity weddings and Nell will be popping in to answer your questions on how to deal with hat hair, so get texting and calling. I’ll even respond to the odd tweet!

  “Just a reminder it’s cold out there, folks, and the roads are iiiicyyyy! Watch yourselves on the drive home, it doesn’t matter if it takes a little longer, I’m here keeping you company through till six. Now I don’t know about you guys but when the snow’s on the ground and the mercury’s dropped, I’m like a bear fattening up for hibernation. I want baked goods and plenty of them, give me cake and pie and cookies until I burst! Well, my luck is in because we’re just two weeks away from Marietta’s first Bachelor Bake-Off and there are going to be plenty of tasty treats in the kitchen. Insert your own pun here, ladies!”

  Zac Malone sighed and hit the button on the car radio. The only thing he disliked more than small towns was small-town radio, especially chipper small-town radio hosts who rabbited on about small-town concerns. He searched for the nearest public radio station and cursed under his breath as a stream of static hissed out of the speakers. Looked like it was Miss Chipper or nothing. Luckily he was a man who didn’t mind the sound of his own thoughts.

  The radio host had been right about one thing: it was icy out despite the winter blue skies and the pale sliver of sun low in the sky. Snow coated the mountains all around him and dusted the windy mountain road, hiding the worst of the patches of black ice and making the driving treacherous going. Zac checked his GPS. Not far now, luckily; the sun was beginning to drop behind the mountains and he didn’t much fancy being out on these unknown roads on a late January night. He hit dial on his hands-free, tapping the steering wheel impatiently until his PA’s voice rang out. “Hi there, Zac.”

  “Katie,” he acknowledged more curtly than he intended. Her naturally flirty manner always made him tense up. He sensed that she was fully aware of that fact and ramped up her manner accordingly.

  Sure enough her voice dropped suggestively. “How’s cowboy country? Make sure you send us some pictures if you go native. I bet you look good on a horse.”

  Zac ignored her second comment. “So far Montana is covered in snow and ridiculously cold.” He didn’t usually venture this far north. Luckily the car he’d rented at the airport was fully equipped with winter tires, a shovel, and a blanket. If he didn’t reach his destination soon he had an inkling he might need them. “You haven’t sent me the coordinates yet. Where’s the motel?”

  “Ah, about that…”

  “Yes?”

  “There isn’t actually a motel in town. Marietta isn’t big on chains. And the main hotel is a little over budget for a long stay, and booked out at the weekends anyway for weddings and all…” Katie finally stopped for breath.

  “So?”

  “So you’re booked in at an adorable-sounding guesthouse. The Crooked Corner—isn’t that the quaintest thing you ever heard?”

  Zac’s jaw set. Quaint was another thing on the list of things he didn’t do. “A guesthouse?” He wasn’t a fussy guy. He just insisted that Katie book him into a nice anonymous motel somewhere. The kind where people minded their own business and nobody made small talk over coffee. Or, indeed, at any time. “Katie…”

  “Zac, there’s nowhere else in town,” she said hurriedly. “It’s all B&Bs and guesthouses and inns. Tourist-friendly place, you know? And, with the weather and all, I didn’t think you would want to be in the next town over. This place isn’t a full-time guesthouse, the owners have a suite of rooms they let out every now and then on a medium-term basis. It comes with breakfast and dinner but there are no other guests. It’s more like lodging than anything else. It’s run by two sisters-in-law, Priscilla and Patty Hathaway—according to their website everyone calls them Aunt Patty and Aunt Priscilla. How cute do they sound?”

  Cute was the last thing he wanted in a temporary home and he certainly didn’t need two pseudo aunts fussing over him. Zac drummed his fingers harder on the wheel. This was far from ideal—but then everything about this assignment was wrong. An audit, training, and consultancy all in one package meant an extended stay of possibly a couple of months.

  Normally he specialized in quick jobs in the southwest of the country, preferring to work in cities wherever possible, but one of his most trusted employees was ill and there was no one else free at short notice Zac could rely on to cover such an important job. So here he was, far out of his comfort zone. And now he had nowhere suitable to stay. He’d just have to work harder than ever so he could get out as fast as he could. “Fine. Send me the coordinates.”

  It only took another quarter of an hour to reach Crooked Corner. That was plenty long enough for Zac to realize that Marietta was everything he’d been dreading it would be; a small town, all chocolate box storefronts and rosy-cheeked children playing in the snow. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone else’s name and everyone else’s business. The kind of place he’d spent his entire adult life escaping from.

  He slowed down as a teen boy mooched past, his thin jacket inadequate against the cold, his face set with a weary determination that Zac recognized all too well. “Dammit,” he said softly. He’d spent far too long burying his demons to let this one-horse town dig them up again.

  He turned his attention back to his route, following the GPS down Bramble Lane, his eyes skimming indifferently over the old mansions lining the road until the anonymous voice told him to pull in at a large Victorian house, all interesting angles and turrets, on the corner of Bramble Lane and 2nd Avenue. Painted white with a red trim, wide steps led up to a wraparound porch, several bird feeders hanging from the rail. The front door was also a cherry red, the rocker next to it painted the same color and heaped with bright cushions. He should’ve brought his sunglasses.

  Zac decided to leave his bags in the car until he’d seen his rooms. Any sign of communal living space or a repeat of that glossy red in his rooms and he was heading to the nearest motel, wintry roads or not. He made his way to the porch steps, feet slipping a little on the packed snow. He was going to need winter boots. And—he shivered as a chill wind whistled past and through him—a thicker coat. His mind flew to the boy he’d seen just a few moments earlier. Did he have a thick coat at home he’d refused to wear with a teen’s disdain or was he doing the best with what little he had?

  “Zac Malone? Come in, come in!” Zac blinked in surprise as the red door was flung open and a tall figure stood beaming at him. “I’m Patty Hathaway but everyone calls me Aunt Patty and you must absolutely do the same. Is that the only coat you have? We’ll need to send you over to Marietta Western Wear first thing tomorrow to get properly outfitted; it’s going to get colder they say. I bet you’re freezing. Coffee? Hot chocolate? Or how about something stronger? It’s after six after all.”

  Patty Hathaway was in her sixties, as slim and stylish as a catwalk model. Her gray hair was cut into a choppy bob, the ends colored black in a striking contrast to her silver roots. Anything less like the apple-cheeked landlady Zac assumed would run a place like this was hard to imagine.

  “No, thank you.” Coffee did sound good but it also hinted at informality, at small talk. Zac wanted to make sure any relationship between himself and his landlady remained strictly civil but brief. And he never touched the something stronger.

  If Miss Hathaway—no way was he going to call her Aunt Patty—was discomfited she didn’t show it. Instead her blue eyes twinkled as she nodded at him. “I’ll show you where the kitchen is in case you change your mind.”

  The door opened into a large wooden-floored hallway, painted a more sober cream Zac was relieved to notice, although the walls were hung with a variety of bright
ly colored paintings: landscapes, still lifes, and abstracts all jostling for notice. “The kitchen’s that way,” Patty Hathaway said pointing to an ajar door at the end of the hall. “Our living room is through here, and there’s a cozy den in there. You’re welcome to use either; make yourself completely at home.”

  Zac didn’t respond and the twinkle in his hostess’s eyes intensified as she led him through the hallway and down a back corridor. This one was home to an exhibition’s worth of photographs, many black and white with stern-faced family groups featuring mutton-chopped patriarchs. Miss Hathaway stopped outside the white-painted door at the end of the corridor and put her hand on the handle. “Here you are. I hope you’ll be comfortable. Yours is the only bedroom on the first floor, the family all sleep upstairs so it’s nice and private.”

  The room she ushered him into was as unlike his usual anonymous motel rooms as a space could be. Thick patterned drapes were already drawn against the winter night and several lamps cast a warm glow over the room. The walls were the same cream as the hallway, the pictures confined to just a couple of large watercolors of the Montana mountains in summer. A blue couch heaped with cushions faced the fireplace, a matching easy chair on either side. A small dining table sat by the window, a cheerful tablecloth draped over it and a bowl filled with fresh fruit placed invitingly in the center.

  “Your bedroom is through there.” She gestured at another door opposite the window. “And your bath is off that. You should have everything you need but if not just come into the kitchen. There’s coffee and snacks in there if you’re hungry at any time. Please just help yourself if there’s no one around—although either my sister-in-law, Priscilla, or I should be there most of the time. Now, we usually eat at seven after my niece gets home from work, I hope that’s okay. You’re very welcome to join us but if you’re tired then we can put together a tray and bring it to your room.”

  “Yes, thank you. A tray would be perfect.”

  She paused, the blue eyes keen. “Of course. I’ll leave you to settle in. Remember, there’s always a hot drink in the kitchen if you change your mind.”