Smiling at her brisk nature I took the tray from her. “Well, thank you, ma’am. I’ll be sure to take these right to Buttercup. We can have a little afternoon snack together.”
“Is she still volunteering down at the rescue center?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s been down there all day, today.”
Shaking her head in disapproval, Ms. Fritz said, “I don’t like it one little bit, Jake Hargett. That’s about as dangerous a pastime as a girl can have. All those crazies calling 911. The blood, the germs—"
Stifling a smile, I said, “Buttercup may be small but she’s one tough cookie. She can hold her own. Maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well,” I said with a wink.
Blushing at my compliment, Sarah gave my shoulder a slap, pushing me towards the door. “That’s quite enough. Now git, Jake Hargett. And don’t you eat all those before you get to Buttercup. And I’ll put your check in the mail.”
Thanking her again, I let her push me out the door. Climbing in the cab of my just washed for delivery day, shining white truck, I carefully placed the cupcakes on the seat beside me. Starting the engine, I checked the clock. Buttercup’s shift was just about up. I would surprise her. There were enough cupcakes for her, myself and even her friend Cherry.
And Sarah was right—if I didn’t get these to my wife soon I was liable to polish them off myself.
Listening to my favorite local sports channel on the radio I got lost in the latest baseball report. I almost missed my turn. In the distance the weathered blue-gray sign proudly stating Poke Rescue & EMS since 1975 welcomed me.
I slowed, preparing to make my turn. My destination had snuck up on me. I gave a laugh at my ability to lose touch with reality so quickly when it came to my favorite sport. I played baseball all through high school and it still had a hold on me. I clicked the radio off. When my eyes cut back to the road, a blue sedan was driving slowly by the building, the driver not even looking at the road. What I could make of him through the glare of the sun on the windshield, his head was completely turned towards the building, as if looking for something. The car began to swerve into my lane.
Honking my horn to get his attention, he startled, turning my way and shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. Giving a little apology wave, the car sped up and the driver passed me. As he went by a chill ran through me. Though I couldn’t be sure as his face was partially shielded with his hand and the sun on the glass, the driver looked a lot like Ryder.
We hadn’t seen Ryder since the wedding. I had told Buttercup—under threat of a bare bottomed paddling—that she was to tell me immediately if she were to run into that creep when she was around town. Remaining where I was on the road, I watched the car turn onto the main drag, but could only get a look at the back of the head of the driver.
Shaking my head at myself, I frowned, turning into the drive. I was going crazy with my concern for Buttercup. There was no way that creep would know where she was on a random Tuesday. Right? I needed to lighten up.
Pulling into the small gravel lot of the blue-gray building a smile stretched across my face at the sight of my wife. Seated at a picnic table, her head bent over a book in deep concentration. She sat in the sun the light glinting off her hair making the red tones shimmer. Her beauty shone through her pretty face as her big green eyes lit up, recognizing my truck.
Putting the truck in park, I grabbed the cupcakes hoping Buttercup would be more excited to see me than the Double Dutch but knowing it might be a toss-up. She loved Sarah’s cupcakes. “Hey, beautiful,” I called, climbing out of the cab.
“Hey, yourself.” Looking up from her book she closed the cover quickly placing the book in the seat beside her. Standing, she climbed over the bench, meeting me at the truck.
Reaching up on her tiptoes she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips briefly meeting mine, she gave me a chaste kiss, but it made my lips burn all the same. Her eyes shifted from my face to what I held in my hands. “Cupcakes? From Sarah?”
“None other,” I smiled, handing her the case. I had managed to show up with all six cupcakes unscathed.
“Yay! Sarah is too good to me. I’ve been telling Cherry about these—I can’t wait for her to try one.” Opening the lid, she gently took the Vanilla Bean one out and handed it to me. “Here. That way one of the guys doesn’t pick yours.”
“My favorite,” I said, taking a lick of the buttercream icing. “How’d you know?”
“Because that’s always the first one to go whenever I bring them home.”
“Go get Cherry. I’ll wait here.” I walked over to the picnic table getting my long legs over the bench and somehow folded under the table. I watched as Buttercup walked away, the curve of her bottom swaying. A line from that old song popped into my head, ‘hate to see her go but love to watch her leave.’
I ate the icing off the top of the cupcake, waiting for Buttercup and her friend to return. Peeling the wrapper back I started on the soft crumbly cake. “Good thing I’m eating this outside,” I murmured, watching the yellow crumbs fall to the ground.
Buttercup and Cherry returned, the short, bubbly blonde talking a mile a minute, while Buttercup sweetly nodded, listening intently. Buttercup took a seat next to me, with Cherry across from us. The cupcake tray sat in the middle of the table.
“Well, hey, Jake. I don’t think I’ve seen you since the wedding. How was Mexico? You look… tanned.” Her face flushed with her words.
“Hey yourself, Cherry. Has it been that long? Mexico was…” my eyes darted to Buttercup. Those tan lines peeking out, her cheeks flushed, “amazing.”
“Buttercup wouldn’t shut up about the trip for the first half of our shift. I was so jealous. I want to go on a honeymoon.” Cherry was speaking to me, but her eyes were on the tray of confections. “My God, these smell good.”
“You have to settle on one man first. And then promise the rest of your life to him,” I joked. “That’s how you get a honeymoon.” Cherry was known for dating guys for a few minutes, then tiring of them and moving on to the next one.
I watched as Cherry reached into the tray, taking the Double Dutch Chocolate, Buttercup’s favorite.
“I’m sorry Cherry—that one belongs to my bride. Baker’s orders.” I plucked the chocolate cupcake up placing it in front of Buttercup.
“That’s okay—you can have it, Cherry,” Buttercup said, picking up the chocolate cupcake and placing it reverently down on the table in front of her friend.
“No way—uh uh. I’m not going against the orders of Sarah Fritz. From what I’ve heard about her she’s a real toughie. Besides, why didn’t you tell me that one was your favorite, Buttercup? I would have taken a different one.”
“I wanted you to have first pick.”
“And she’s too sweet to ever tell you,” I added, sending Buttercup a wink that furthered her blushing.
“Well, what’s the second best one in your opinion?” Cherry’s baby blues roved over the case, unable to decide.
Buttercup and I both answered at once, “Key Lime Pie.”
“Jinx, knock on wood” Buttercup said, her knuckles wrapping the picnic table. You owe me a Coke. Lucky for you there is a drink machine in the break room.”
I shrugged my shoulders, pressing my lips together.
“Uh-huh. You’d best go. There is Coke in the breakroom.” Cherry laughed. “The rules of jinx are unflinchingly rigid.”
I stood up, grabbing the third best cupcake—PB&J—and headed to the break room, feeling in my pocket for change.
As I entered the building, Tex, one of the other EMT’s passed by me, his eyes widening at the sight of the frosted confection in my hand. “Cupcakes? No way. Where are they?”
Without speaking, I pointed to the door I had just come through, towards the girls at the picnic table.
“Thanks, man.” Without waiting for a response, Tex bolted out the door to grab one.
In the break room, I breathed a sigh of relief to see there were
in fact Coke products stocked in the big red humming machine. Jinx was a serious game and I’d hate to have to remain silent until I got to a grocery store and back with a can of soda for my girl.
Popping the quarters in the machine, I turned my head as I overheard the conversation in the room next to the break room.
“Is that Jake’s truck out front?”
“Yeah. That lucky son of a gun.”
“How so?”
“Not only does he have the best girl, he’s got a decent truck too.”
I stifled a laughed, pressing the last quarter into the machine.
“Too bad Buttercup’s taken. She’s a sweet one.”
“What about Cherry? She’s as single as a dollar bill.”
“I wonder why.”
“What’d ya mean?”
“She’s so cute and nice and funny. She must be one of those crazy ones. You know—you take her out for a nice meal and then she calls you thirty times the next day. You don’t pick up and next thing you know you get home and your housecat’s been skinned.”
“You got too much imagination man.”
“I’ve been through it. Trust me.”
“You’ve had your cat skinned?”
“No. But I’ve dealt with crazy. I’ve had my 1981 Camaro keyed. Messed up the bodywork bad. Man, I loved that car. But the girl that did it—she was crazy. That must be why Cherry is single—crazy as a bat. She’s too cute for any other possible explanation. Look at her eating that cupcake.”
“She’s not crazy. Cherry’s been through just about every guy in Poke Town, except the EMT’s. She’s probably just waiting for the one. You know how that goes. I overheard her telling Buttercup about a guy from college one time. Something about anatomy class when she was studying to become a nurse. Apparently, the guy was a real hunk of something but never asked her out. I wonder if she is still hung up on him.”
“Did she say his name?
“Nope. Buttercup asked her, and she said, ‘I don’t let his name pass my lips. Can’t believe I’m even talking about this now. Past is past.’ Then she moved on with the next subject real quick like.”
“So, you’re right then. She’s just biding her time till she finds the one.”
“Well, it ain’t one of us. That’s for sure. She hasn’t shown a bit of interest in any of us. Maybe that son of a gun Jake’s got a brother.”
Chuckling silently, I chose that moment to press the red button marked Coca Cola Classic. The can fell, making a loud noise.
“Is someone in there?” A young man barely over eighteen with a friendly face and a navy hat poked his head around the corner. His eyes went wide and his face paled when he recognized me. “Well, hey there, Jake.”
Having already purchased the Coke I figured I could speak.
“Well, hey, yourself.” Whistling, I walked by, half eaten cupcake in one hand, soda in the other.
I may not have a brother, but I knew what a lucky guy I was.
Married life was far better than I imagined it would be.
Sure, Buttercup and I had practically lived together before we had gotten married—her in the guestroom, me in my room— but this was different. Falling asleep with her body curled up next to mine, then waking up with her still in my arms, or pressed against my back, it was the highlight of my life.
And the dinners. Having never learned to cook, I had tried my hardest to impress Buttercup by making her favorite—steak and potatoes—on our first date. While that meal had turned out well, my other attempts had not. There had been the mostly congealed lump of spaghetti I had served her, her eating it with a fork and a knife and a smile. Then there had been the overcooked fish, rubbery and slimy and inedible—we had called out for pizza that night.
After my final attempt—a chicken pot pie that you had to eat in a bowl with a spoon, Buttercup had taken over the cooking. “It’s no problem,” she had said sweetly. “I’ve been cooking all my life.” And you could tell too. Her meat was never dry, vegetables never mushy. Her meals were flavorful and cooked to perfection. And it made my entire day when she had a hot meal waiting for me when I got home.
Maybe there was something to that old saying, ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’.
The day to day tender moments that came with marriage were the ones that had surprised me the most. I would never tire of her crawling in my lap at the end of a long day. I would wrap my arms around her, stroking her hair, and we would talk about our days.
The talking. I know a tough guy like me isn’t supposed to say it, but that was my favorite part about being married. I had waited ten years for Buttercup to come home. Sure—I had dated women. But nothing had stuck. Buttercup and I just clicked. Unlike with the others, I never tired of hearing her sweet voice tumbling through the air sharing her thoughts, her hopes, her dreams, and funny stories from her day.
And I considered myself the luckiest man alive to be the one she was sharing it all with.
I knew what a gift it was to have Buttercup’s heart, her love, her trust. It was my job to provide for her, protect her, and love her. And I didn’t’ take my job lightly. I gave everything I had to taking care of her.
Especially protecting her.
Trying to drag my thoughts from my wife to my work, I focused on finishing the final touches on an armoire for Jessica and Ray’s den—lucky for my bank account Jess was always redecorating. Tightening the clamp on the joist of the wood I couldn’t shake from my mind that I hadn’t seen the last of Ryder.
Seeing that blue sedan driving by Buttercup’s building a few weeks back still gave me the creeps. I couldn’t be sure it was Ryder. And there really was no way for him to know Buttercup was there. But still, it left me feeling uneasy. I needed to talk to Buttercup. Reiterate my feelings about the situation. And how serious I was about her staying safe.
Leaving the dovetailed pieces together for the wood glue to dry I walked around my workbench peering out of the windows of my woodshop. Wiping my dusty hands off on my apron it looked to me all was well at the house. I caught a glimpse of Buttercup’s slight frame, already in her soft pink pajamas, making her way through the living room.
No stalkers following her through the house. No kidnappers lurking in the bushes.
I still couldn’t rest easy. The look in Ryder’s pale blue eyes flashed in my mind, unsettling me. I was one to work out in the sun, give people big smiles, put people’s minds at ease. Those brothers set me on edge. From their pale skin to their brooding looks—they were bad news.
But Buttercup at one point had found Thomas handsome. And maybe Ryder too. I pushed my jealousies from my mind. I knew that Buttercup wanted only me. And I wanted only to protect her. And I would. At any cost. Even if Buttercup didn’t like it.
My wife and I saw eye to eye on just about every subject—except the one that mattered most to me—her safety. I was unflinchingly rigid when it came to the health and wellbeing of my girl. Buttercup on the other hand never wanted to hurt someone’s feelings even if it meant putting herself at risk. That was what had led her to sneaking off to meet with her ex-fiancé Tom in the first place. She didn’t want to hurt him when he asked her to meet him for a final goodbye.
One of the things I had loved most about Buttercup was her ability to assume the best in everyone. With a sordid childhood, reality television drama worthy parents and an ex who would send chills down anyone’s spine, you would have thought she would have become bitter. Jaded. Leery of the world and its inhabitants.
Instead, she was the sweetest, gentlest most trusting person I knew. And that is where her strengths collided with her weaknesses. It was her too trusting manner that had led to her upsetting meeting with Tom. And now, his brother coming needlessly back into her life.
I had to lay down the law.
Untying my apron, I placed it on my workbench. Taking a deep breath to calm myself I left the shop, pulling the door closed behind me.
“Buttercup,” I called as I entered o
ur little white bungalow. The oak hardwood floors were shining. She must have just cleaned them. I slipped my work boots off, placing them beside the flowered mat—one of the feminine touches she had added to the house—not wanting to dirty her clean floors.
I called her name again, walking through the house until I reached the back room.
Finding her in the back bedroom, I smiled at the sight of her. Seated at the desk she kept in the small guest room, she was focused on the big book that sat on the desktop. Her brow was knitted tightly together, her eyes trained on the page before her. The corner of her pink tongue worried at her bottom lip in concentration. Her messy ponytail hung halfway out of its elastic band.
“Butters,” I whispered.
Startled, she looked up, a flash of embarrassment crossing her beautiful face that was quickly replaced by her signature flush. Quickly, she slammed the cover of the book, stashing it in the desk drawer.
“I thought you were in the shop,” she said, rising from her chair. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she murmured, “I missed you.”
My hands wound tightly around her waist, pulling her in towards me. Leaning down, I kissed her, the kiss bringing her up to the tops of her toes. My sensual girl—just a kiss could get her going. She was probably already wet. My cock was hardening beneath the rough fabric of my work jeans. “What were you working on?” I asked, taking the opportunity of the time it took her to answer to nibble on her earlobe.
“Nothing,” she whispered. A moan slipped from her lips as my teeth trailed down her neck.
My mouth found my way back to her ear. Leaning in, my hand moved up her back and pulled the elastic from her long hair, dropping it to the floor. My hand tangled in the back of the mass of auburn locks, pulling tightly as my other hand reached down and grabbed her ass over her thin pajamas. “Naughty girl—you know there’s no secrets between us.” I squeezed harder until I elicited the gasp I wanted to hear.
Mastering Her Will (Dirty Texas Love Book 2) Page 6