The Andrews men made an imposing wall. Taryn appreciated their efforts, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. “He was just leaving.”
Without a word, Nick scurried away like the rat he’d become.
She waited until he was out of earshot, and the three brothers stepped closer to the table. “Thank you.”
“We’re lovers, not fighters,” the older one said. “But that jerk doesn’t know it.”
The taller, thinner one with glasses nodded. “Brandt says Nick Baxter is all talk. He can’t produce the results and cuts bait before he’s found out.”
“Taryn Lawson, I want you to meet my brothers.”
She smiled at them “I hope your flight went well.”
“It did.” Keaton motioned to his oldest brother. “Except he almost killed us twice on the drive from Seattle.”
Flynn rolled his eyes. “Time is money. And neither incident was that close.”
“Close only counts in horseshoes and grenades,” Garrett said.
Taryn laughed. “I see what Callie meant.”
Flynn flashed a charming grin. “All good I’m sure.”
Garrett elbowed him. “Stop flirting.”
“The watermelon slices intrigue me.” Keaton glanced from the cookies to her. “May I?”
“Of course. They are free.” She handed him a coupon. “We have all our samples for sale in the bakery on First Avenue.”
Garrett surveyed the table. “I hope you saved me a slice of marionberry pie.”
She tried to act surprised. “Oh, was I supposed to?”
“Yes.” He looked around the booth. “Where is it?”
Taryn almost laughed. “You have a one-track mind.”
Flynn snickered. “She knows you well.”
She nodded. “And you didn’t say the magic words.”
Garrett scratched his cheek. “À la mode.”
Keaton shook his head. “That’s three words.”
“Oh, right.” Garrett winked at her. “Please.”
“Ignore Keaton or Garrett. They aren’t worth your time.” Flynn was model gorgeous with darker hair than his brother and lines at the corners of his eyes. “My lawyer brother told us your name, but I’m Doctor Flynn Andrews.”
Keaton scoffed. “Notice how he says doctor. I could do that with my PhD, but I don’t because it’s pretentious. I’m happy to spell that, Dr. Flynn, if it’s beyond your meager vocabulary.”
Garrett rolled his eyes before mouthing “I’m sorry” to her.
Poor Callie. She must have had a hard time with how competitive her three older brothers were. Taryn removed her disposable glove and extended her arm to Flynn. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Flynn raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You’re as sweet as the desserts you bake.”
“Mine,” Garrett growled.
Taryn bit back a laugh. She had no idea he was so possessive. But she kind of liked it.
Flynn side-eyed his brother. “Already?”
Garrett nodded once. “Should have arrived earlier, Doc.”
“Don’t mind my two older brothers.” Keaton was cute with a geek-nerd vibe. “You’re Callie’s friend who’s making the wedding cakes.”
“You mean, cake, Professor,” Flynn chided.
Keaton, who Callie called the brainy professor, was as attractive as Flynn, only not as handsome as Garrett. “Plural is correct. Your sister and Brandt ordered a three-tiered wedding cake and three groom cakes.”
Flynn rubbed his neck before grabbing a lemon bar. “That’s a lot of cake.”
Garrett feigned annoyance while motioning to Flynn. “See what Callie and I dealt with growing up.”
Taryn would play along. “I do. It must have been so difficult.”
“Hey. No fair. Garrett got a head start, making an impression.” Keaton took another cookie from a serving tray. “Give us time to catch up.”
“Callie’s in a class by herself and grew up fine.” Flynn pointed to Garrett. “Now this guy… Trust me, Taryn, I put him to shame.”
Taryn would trust the arrogant doctor—his sister’s nickname for him—about as far as she could throw him. Which given his height and athletic build would be a few centimeters.
Garrett’s face flushed. “Please ignore them. They act like they’re twelve.”
Flynn shook his head. “Thirteen.”
“Eleven for me.” Keaton tapped his chin with his free hand. “That would make Garrett twelve.”
Taryn laughed, pulling on a new glove. “Margot will enjoy having you stay with her.”
“She’s got big plans in store.” Garrett’s tone was mysterious. “Why don’t you guys look around? I’ll catch up in a minute.”
A man and his young daughter came up to the booth.
She pointed. “Slice of watermelon, please.”
“They’re cookies,” the man explained.
“I know, but they’re shaped like slices.” She pointed to the Slice of Summer sign. “That’s what I want, Daddy.”
The man nodded.
Taryn handed the girl a watermelon cookie. “Enjoy your slice.”
The girl clutched the cookie as if it were a special treasure. “I will. Thank you.”
The dad peered at the sweets on the tiered tray. “I’ll take a slice of pie. Any flavor.”
Taryn grabbed the one nearest to her. “Here you go.”
The girl took a bite. “Yum. This is better than real watermelon and way better than those cookies at the forest booth.”
Out of the mouth of babes.
The praise ricocheted through Taryn, filling the empty spaces inside and making her stand taller.
She hoped other people did an impromptu test between the two bakeries and bought from Lawson’s in the future. They might not get the exposure winning brought, but that would help. She wiggled her toes.
Garrett stared at her expectantly.
Oh, right.
His pie.
As the dad and daughter walked away, Taryn reached into the cooler and removed the slice she’d saved for Garrett. “One slice of marionberry pie for you.”
He grinned. “Thanks.”
Awareness hummed inside her. Suddenly, all was right in her world. “You haven’t tried the pie.”
His gaze lingered on her. “I want the moment to last.”
She laughed, more a show of nerves from the way he looked at her. It was as if he wanted a taste of her lips instead. She swallowed. “I can make more. All you have to do is ask.”
Chapter Fifteen
On Sunday afternoon, Taryn stood behind the table at her booth. Despite being tired and sweaty, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Lawson’s couldn’t make up the declining sales in three days, but this was the second weekend in a row business showed improvement. A good—and much-needed—sign. The booth’s traffic exceeded last summer’s traffic. She would figure out the profit made tomorrow. Tonight, a shower and sleep were her only priorities. She also hoped the coupons brought more customers into the bakery.
Most of the people were snagging desserts off the table without stopping to chat.
She didn’t mind. The drive-by—okay, walk-by—visits always happened toward the end of the fair.
The pile of coupons had dwindled to a handful, so Jayden had estimated well.
Now, all she needed was to see Garrett.
Strike that.
Taryn didn’t need to see him. She wanted to see him.
Semantics, yes, but a big difference in her mind.
He’d stopped by briefly this morning to ask if she needed help, but Taryn had everything under control. That didn’t stop her from waiting for him to show up again.
That was silly.
He must be with his family like last night when he’d had dinner with them and Brandt’s parents and aunt. Taryn hadn’t been invited to join them nor had she expected to be. The whole reason he was in Silver Falls was to be with his family. She assumed the same thing would happen tonight
and every night this week.
That didn’t make her want to see Garrett less.
Not silly.
Pathetic.
“Only thirty minutes until the summer fair closes,” a voice announced. “This is your last chance to visit the fabulous First Avenue booths and use your ride tickets.”
Anna worked in the Wags and Tails booth with her little dog, Milo, who posed as if he were a part of the decorations. That was better than him causing trouble, as he was known to do. Anna wasn’t packing up yet, but she’d made piles of items to ease cleanup. Raine appeared to be doing the same thing.
Taryn didn’t blame them. Both women need to be at work early in the morning. So did she, yet she would wait for any last visitors. Not that a handful of customers would make a difference, but she wanted them to feel as welcome as those who’d stopped by on Friday. Each person counted.
Garrett approached. “Things are slowing down.”
Her pulse skittered. “Yes. People are likely over at the rides trying to get the most out of their unlimited ride bracelets or tickets.”
“Lots are over at the bakery.”
Excitement shot through her. “Wonderful.”
“Yes.” She glanced in at the other booths on either side of her. “That must be why Brecken isn’t here yet.”
“How do you feel about how things went?”
“I’m thrilled, so is Jayden. He texted me that business is up, and not every customer redeemed the coupons we’ve been giving away.”
“That’s great.”
She nodded. “I won’t have the exact numbers until tomorrow, but I feel good about it. We don’t have the staff to support opening on Sundays, but it might be worth trying one or two days a month as an experiment.”
“As long as you take off another day. You don’t want to burn out.”
His kind tone didn’t hide how amusing she found his words. “Says the workaholic attorney.”
He sheepishly grinned as if caught taking the last cookie.
Talk about adorable.
“I should do the same,” he admitted.
“You should.” Taryn couldn’t hold back the laughter. “We’re a pair.”
“Yes, we are.” He sounded amused. “In our defense, we enjoy what we do for a living. There’s no crime in that.”
She nodded. “What’s that adage…when you love your job it doesn’t feel like work?”
“I’ve heard that, but it’s still a lot of work for me.”
“True.” Her gaze traveled from each of the desserts remaining on the table. Pride swelled in her. “But I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”
Taryn hoped her dad gave her the chance to keep running Lawson’s in some capacity.
Garrett reached out, held her hand, and squeezed. “It’ll all work out.”
How did he read her so well? Before she could reply, Brecken ran up to the booth. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away.
Brecken’s cheeks were flushed, and he still wore a hairnet and his bakery whites. “Jayden sent me over to help you pack up.”
“We have a few more minutes left,” she said.
“Cool.” His breath came fast. He must have run. “Lots of people are in the shop.”
“Wonderful.” Taryn would discuss staying open on an occasional Sunday with Jayden, and then they could talk to the others. She would need at least three of their staff willing to commit to an extra day.
“What should I do?” Brecken asked.
She pointed to the plastic containers they’d brought baked goods over in. “Leave a couple of those out, but put the rest into the cardboard boxes, please.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” He wiped his hands on his apron and stacked them. “Now that they’re empty, they’ll be easier to carry. Want me to take these to the bakery?”
“That would be great, but don’t carry too many. I don’t want you to trip.”
“I’ll be careful.” A minute or two later, he held on to a large box. “Be right back.”
The lanky teen hurried away.
Garrett watched him go. “Tell me about Brecken.”
“He’s a sweet kid. He started working at the bakery two years ago to save for community college and help his family. His siblings cut the coupons.”
Garrett lowered his gaze to the table, staring at the plate of brownies as if it contained the winning numbers for the upcoming lottery drawing. That was odd.
“Why do you want to know about Brecken?” She waited for an answer, but he remained silent. “Garrett?”
“I’m good at figuring out people. It’s a useful skill with selecting juries.”
“Okay.” Except it wasn’t if he used that with her or her employees. “What does this have to do with Brecken?”
“He’s wearing three-hundred-dollar tennis shoes.”
The words sunk in. She immediately rejected what he implied. “No.”
“Taryn—”
“No.” The word flew out. She shook her head as if to emphasize the point. “Brecken is the oldest of seven children. His family lives in an apartment and can barely afford rent because his dad was in a terrible accident and on disability. Brecken’s mom works two jobs. They must be knockoffs.”
“He has the motivation.”
Her stomach went rock hard. “You think Brecken stole…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
A guy ran up and grabbed a brownie from the table. “Love these.”
Garrett handed him a coupon. “They’re available every day at Lawson’s Bakery on First Avenue.”
His voice was firmer than usual. The tension from earlier in the week was back, and she hated that when things had gotten so comfortable between them. She bit her lip.
The man picked up another brownie before walking away.
“Hear me out before you say anything else,” Garrett said before she could tell him he was out of his mind for accusing Brecken of this.
She took a breath. “Go ahead.”
“If his family is struggling that much, he has reason to sell your recipes and designs.”
Taryn shook her head. “I understand what you’re saying, but it makes no sense. Why would he buy expensive shoes instead of putting aside money for rent and groceries? Unless they were gifts.”
Garrett nodded. “That would make things less traceable to whoever gave them.”
Nick Baxter was implied.
Taryn wrapped her arms around herself. It didn’t take away the sick feeling in her stomach.
“I can’t believe it…” Her heart ached. Brecken loved the bakery and wouldn’t hurt it or Taryn. “He’s a sweet kid, who likes to make jokes, and he’s never late for work or missed a shift. He wouldn’t steal from Lawson’s.”
Garrett’s jaw tensed. “You only know what you’ve seen or been told. You can’t look behind a door or into someone’s heart.”
That was true.
“All we have to do is talk to him and listen to how he answers.”
“You’re the experienced one with this, but I still don’t like it, and you’ll see you’re wrong.”
“I hope I am.”
She studied him. “You sound as if you mean that.”
“I do,” Garrett admitted. “I would rather find out Baxter paid someone to break into Lawson’s and steal things.”
An unpleasant, violated sensation crawled along her spine. “I suppose that would be better.”
But not by much. She shivered.
“The Silver Falls Summer Fair is now closed,” a woman announced over the loudspeakers. “Thanks for attending. Don’t forget to shop locally at the First Avenue shops. We’ll see you next year.”
Garrett rubbed his hands together. “Let’s clean up.”
“What about your brothers?”
“They headed over to Callie’s place to do a few things for the wedding.”
She packed the remaining dessert samples and the leftover coupons. They would recycle those.
Garrett cut t
he zip ties holding decorations in place on the pop-up tent, and she packed them into boxes. She folded the canopy’s top while he removed the tree trunks from the front poles. Together, they collapsed the tent’s frame.
“Wow.” Openmouthed, Brecken approached, staring at them. “You guys are fast.”
“Takedown is always faster.” Garret motioned to the tent. “Do you mind putting that in its case?”
“Happy to do it.” As Brecken bent over, something dropped onto the ground.
Garrett picked up a cell phone and handed it over. “Is this the newest model?”
“Yeah.” Brecken put it in his pocket. “Mr. Baxter accidentally dropped my old one in the lake when he took me and his kids fishing, so he bought it for me.”
Garrett shot her an I-told-you-so look. “Nick Baxter?”
Brecken nodded. “I babysit his kids. Before he drives me home, he lets me play his PS4. That system is fire. My old Xbox broke, so I don’t play games much.”
Garrett nodded. “That sure is nice of him.”
“Yeah, he’s an all-right guy.” Brecken held out his foot. “He got me these shoes when he noticed the holes in my other ones. I’ve never had a brand-new pair before. Pretty cool, huh?”
No, no, no. Taryn clutched a tree bark so hard her fingernails dug into the foam.
“Did Nick ever ask you to do something in return for the things he gave you?” Garrett folded the picnic tablecloth.
“He hasn’t been sketchy or creepy, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, Mr. Baxter hates Brandt Winslow, who’s always been nice to me. But Mr. Baxter thought Brandt and Callie should have ordered their wedding cake from Summit Ridge, not us, which I don’t understand because Mr. Baxter only consults with that bakery. He doesn’t own it.”
She hadn’t been sure of Nick’s involvement, but that made more sense given he was more of a tech guy—well, the business side of things—and had no background in retail or food.
“But he’s legit,” Brecken added.
Garrett came closer. “Legit, how?”
Brecken looked at Taryn. “Remember how you and Jayden dictate recipes into my phone, so my dyslexia doesn’t mess up me reading the directions?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, we’ve been so busy and haven’t done any of the newer ones.”
“That’s okay because Mr. Baxter offered. He didn’t want me to bug you when you’re so busy with the patio and adding items to the menu.”
A Slice of Summer Page 14