Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
When the last cookie is in the display case, Becca pulls off her gloves. "Look, all I'm saying is I've seen him in here. I've seen the way he is with you. He's really protective. And I don't think that he would do anything to hurt you."
I think back to all the times he's been in the bakery. It's true. When he normally comes, it's with a group of bikers. They're rowdy and a little different than most people here in Whiskey Run, but they've all been nice enough. And Becca's right. He is protective of me. In our conversations, he's worried about me closing at night by myself, driving home by myself in the dark. Heck, he even got into it with one of his friends that he thought looked at me wrong. There’s no question, he’s definitely protective.
Becca interrupts my thoughts. "I guess I just don't get it. What would one date hurt?"
I pick up the empty metal tray and stuff it under my arm. I walk toward the kitchen. "It doesn't matter, Becca. I already told him no."
She laughs at that, and it causes me to stop and turn around. "What's so funny?"
Still laughing, she says, "I may not know him well, but I think I know him enough to know he doesn't seem the type to give up easily. If I was a betting woman, I'd bet he'll be in here sometime today."
I don't answer her. I turn quickly away and walk back to the kitchen. I take my time and clean up the tray and around the sink area, even taking the extra time to dry the dishes and put them all away. By the time I'm done wiping down the whole entire kitchen, I've come to a conclusion. Looking back over the last few weeks, I've been happier than I have in a long time. And I know it's because every day I've looked forward to having Jason come into the bakery to talk. Even though it's always been in short increments of time, I still feel like I've gotten to know him. If he does ask me out again, I'm going to say yes this time.
With my mind made up, I throw the towel on to the counter as I walk back to the front. Now all I have to do is hope he stops in again.
Chapter 5
Jason
I would've came back into town yesterday to see Tara, but I got busy at the clubhouse. It's obvious that the move from Texas to Tennessee was in the works for a long time, at least way before it was announced to us by the Pres. Our clubhouse is on the long stretch of highway that connects downtown Whiskey Run to Jasper. We are across the road from Walker's gated compound. Our clubhouse was completely finished, brand new, never been lived in. The bike shop is already almost completely done, and the bar is going to be ready to open next week, but there's still a lot to do to get ready for it all.
That's basically what I did all day yesterday. Back in Texas, I worked at the custom bike shop, and that's what I'll be doing here in Whiskey Run. There was an order that had to get out yesterday, and I worked all day on it, but I was happy with the results. The 2022 Roadster has purple and white flames down the side. I sent pictures to the owner, and they said it was exactly what they wanted. This morning, I was prepping the bike for shipping, and that's why it's taken me so long to get to Sugar Glaze. I probably still have paint on my hands, and most likely, I smell like fumes from the paint booth, but I didn't want to take a long time to clean up.
I know it's only been around 48 hours since I've last seen her, but that is way too long. I push open the door of the bakery, and my eyes dart around the room. I let out a breath when I find Tara almost instantly. She looks up at me from behind the counter, and I swear, it seems like she's almost happy to see me.
I walk straight up to her, the only thing between us the glass display case. "Hey, Mama. I mean, Tara."
Her face scrunches up, and I prepare myself for her displeasure, but she surprises me. "I think I like Mama better."
There's absolutely nothing I can do to stop the smile from forming on my face. I look around the bakery, and I don't see any of her coworkers. "Are you working alone today?"
Just as I ask it, a woman comes from the back holding up her phone. "Hey, Tara—Oh, hey, Jason," she says to me with a smirk on her face and then gives eyes to Tara, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. "I'm going to go outside and talk to Lucas. I'll be back."