Tangled Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls #2) (6 page)

“And wait till you see the best part.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the main room into another.

“Oh, my God.” Abby’s mouth dropped at the sight in front of her. She stared at all the gorgeous stainless steel against the wall. The prep table was double the size of what they had at the Sugar Spoon. “Is this kitchen ready to use?”

“It sure is. Apparently the initial buyer had it all done in the spring before he got cold feet.”

“Cold feet,” she repeated and nodded her head. “Oh, right. Ethel.”

“Who’s Ethel?”

“No one.” She walked over and opened the oven, imagining a roast cooking in it. “This is really something.”

“I can’t wait to get started.”

Abby shut the door and turned. “So, Brandon, why did you text me to join you here?” She tried to act all matter-of-fact. “You said something about a proposition.”

“I’m glad you asked. Since you helped me indirectly on my professional goals by recommending this place, I want to help you.”

“You do? How?” She studied his wide smile. What was he up to? Whatever it was, he looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Open your catering business here.”

“What?”

“Your professional goal. Get started here.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? The kitchen’s ready. The inn won’t be open for business until next spring, but you could launch this winter if you want.”

Abby studied him. What Brandon proposed was certainly intriguing, for several reasons—one of which being they’d be spending a lot of time together.
Bad idea, Abby.

“There’s also plenty of office and storage space on the second floor,” Brandon continued. “This place would be perfect for you. I’m not planning on serving anything more than casual food that wouldn’t require a large cooking staff, so you’d have virtually the entire kitchen for your events.”

He grabbed her hand again and led her out the kitchen and back to the bay window. “Your customers could hold their events on the property if they wanted. There’s plenty of room in front of the house to even put up a party tent.”

A rush of excitement surged through her. He was right; there was a lot of space close to the water. It could definitely work. “I don’t know. Emma and I really haven’t talked about our finances. I mean, where would I get the money to pay you to rent the space?”

He grinned. “I think we could work something out.”

That statement caused her body to tingle. “What did you have in mind?”

“You and Emma could help Jason and me with the renovations. I’ll hire contractors for the big stuff, but having a female touch would be good.”

Her cousin would like that. The kitchen space was exactly what she and Emma would need for large orders. Could she really work under the same roof with him? “This probably isn’t a good idea,” she answered her internal question out loud.

“Are you kidding? It’s a great idea. Hey, you can even have the third floor to practice your spells or whatever witches do.” Brandon laughed. “Maybe we could have a Batter Up night for bachelorettes.”

“First, the Batter Up spell only works on bachelors. Second, I don’t need a place to practice. It’s not like I own a cauldron or even a black pointed hat.”

He gave her ponytail a playful yank. “You’d look cute in one.” Stepping back, he folded his arms. “So, Abby Stevens, do we have a deal?”

“Can I think about it? I mean, I really should talk to Emma.”

“Sure.” Glancing down at his watch, he moved across the room. “Damn. I didn’t realize what time it was. I’ve got to shower before my date.”

“You have a date?” She didn’t mean to pry but the question flew out before she could reel it back in.

“Yeah.” He led them out of the house where Jasper greeted them with his wagging tail. “I’m working on those personal goals we talked about, too.”

“You’ve been busy,” Abby said flatly, untying the dog’s leash. The thought of Brandon spending this evening with another woman was causing a wave of nausea to thrust around in her stomach.

Dejected, she headed to her car with Jasper, while Brandon took off back down the road for his cottage. She’d offered him a ride, but he declined, saying he had too much energy and needed to burn some of it off.

Before he made it to the road, she called out his name.

He turned and flashed her a smile while jogging in place. “Forget something?”

“About your proposition.”

“Yes?”

“Deal.”

B
randon checked
his reflection and headed into the Buttermilk Tavern to meet his date. Sitting at a table close to the window was a pretty blonde.
Must be her.
If the fact that she was all dolled up didn’t give it away, the cameraman hovering over her did.

He’d raced to get to the bar hardly having any time to shower and shave, but what had happened today was well worth having to hurry. He still couldn’t believe that by the end of the week, he’d be an inn owner.

He couldn’t explain his rush purchase that would normally cause anyone to pause—including him. The minute he stepped into the old, musty inn, he knew he’d do whatever it took to own it. There was something enchanting about the place that overwhelmed all his senses. He could picture how it must have been back in the day—hearing the music, seeing its patrons laughing, eating, drinking, and having a good time.

He had a large inheritance when his dad passed away that he’d use for the purchase. He’d never wanted to touch the money before given that his estranged father never gave his mother and him a dime growing up. The money had been sitting in his bank account for years after his father’s death. Brandon now had a reason to use it.

With the inn paid in full, he’d then take out a loan to cover the renovations. He’d talk Jason into helping him and see if he could get some of the guys around town to pitch in as well.

He loved the idea of Abby operating her new catering venture out of the inn. It would be good for business with potential customers hosting their events on the property.

There was also something about the spunky redhead—he couldn’t exactly put his finger on it—but he liked having her around.

Plus, it was her idea for him to open a lakeside bar. He believed in karma, and it was definitely good karma to invite her to use his space.

Reaching the table, he put all thoughts of this afternoon aside and extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Brandon.”

“Hi, Brandon. I’m Rachel.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He turned to the camera guy, who’d set up his tripod in front of the table. “You must be the one filming this experiment.” He paused, correcting himself. “I mean date.”

“I’m Shane, but pretend I’m not even here. I’ll film you for a bit, and then we’ll take a break and let you two get to know each other before your task begins.”

“About that.” Brandon pulled out the wooden chair and sat down. “Do you know what we’re doing?”

Shane handed him a folded piece of paper. “It’s all here, but don’t read it right away. The instructions say that you should both order a drink first.”

“Okay.” Brandon took the paper and put it aside. “So, Rachel. Are you from around here?”

She nodded and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. “Born and bred. I’m a florist. My flower shop is just around the corner.”

“It’s across from the Sugar Spoon bakery, right?”

She nodded. “Emma and Abby bring me cupcakes every Tuesday after Batter Up night, and I supply them with fresh flowers.”

“Leftover magical cupcakes . . . sounds like a good trade. Why don’t I go grab us a couple of beers.” He hopped up and headed over to the bar where a grinning Mitch greeted him.

“Cute.” Mitch glanced over at Rachel. “First date?”

“Long story.”

“What’s the camera for?”

“Longer story. Is it okay that we’re being taped in here? We could go somewhere else if it’s a problem.”

Mitch laughed and handed him two bottlenecks. “On the house. Make sure you put in a good word for the tavern.”

“Will do.” He turned to head back to the table but paused, remembering he needed to talk to his boss. “Hey, I was wondering if I could pick up some extra shifts.”

“I thought you were working on your book.”

“I am, but I could use the money for a renovation project.” He didn’t really want to reveal his plans publicly until the ink was dry. He also wasn’t quite sure how Mitch would feel having competition.

“I think that could be arranged. You know we always need the help.”

“Great. Thanks.” Brandon sauntered back to the table. Now that he’d had a successful day working on his professional goals, it was time to take a stab at his personal one. Rachel seemed like a nice woman and extremely easy on the eyes.

He handed her a beer and sat back down. They spent the next thirty minutes getting to know each other over a plate of fully loaded nachos courtesy of Mitch who, no doubt, wanted his popular appetizer to have some film time, too.

Shane came back over to the table with his camera.

“I guess it’s showtime,” Brandon said, giving the lens a toothy grin and holding up a tortilla chip coated in cheese. “God, these nachos are out of this world. Mitch at the Buttermilk Tavern knows what he’s doing.”

Rachel giggled at his blatant plug and pointed to the paper Brandon had stuck between the salt and pepper shakers earlier. “Should we see what our assignment is?”

“Let’s do it.” Brandon opened the paper and held it to the side so they both could read.

Rachel and Brandon. We hope you’re enjoying your date. Now let’s accelerate it and break a record. The Buttermilk Falls record for longest kiss is four hours and twenty-four minutes. Pucker up. Head to the town gazebo to complete your assignment.

Brandon gulped and reread the instructions. “Is this for real?”

Shane nodded behind the camera.

“Wow.” Rachel smiled and lowered her lashes. “All I was really hoping for was maybe a good-night peck on the cheek.”

“Should we do this?” Brandon asked. “I mean . . . we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

From the look she gave him, he knew she was totally in.

Shane reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Altoids tin, setting it on the table. “They told me I should stop by the drug store for these and give them to you after you read the note.”

Brandon laughed and popped open the tin, offering one to Rachel before grabbing two for himself. If all these planned dates included tasks like this, he was in for a crazy two weeks. “Okay, I guess we’re going to put on a show.”

“Let’s do it.” Rachel stood and grabbed her black leather coat from behind her chair. Brandon’s gaze rested on it for a few seconds. He had this sudden feeling that a similar woman’s jacket had been on his bedroom floor. Déjà vu? Impossible. Must be wishful thinking.

He stood and put his own coat on, before whistling to get the attention of the tavern’s customers. “Gang. This beautiful woman and I are about to break a record. Join us in the park and root us on over the next five hours.”

He grabbed Rachel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I hope you like your kisses long and slow.”

A
bby chatted
with the bachelors while they waited for Emma to pull the name of next week’s lucky guy out of her Red Sox hat. Another successful Batter Up Monday night in the books, and Jeff, a factory worker, was on his path to true love.

“Okay, fellas, next week’s bachelor is Adam Reed.”

Abby clapped along with the hooting and hollering around her. “Congratulations, Adam.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled and turned to Emma. “Can you just make sure it doesn’t say the name ‘Rachel’ in it?”

Emma put her hands up. “I make no promises. It’s the batter that has the final word.”

Abby was happy for Adam. In addition to being her brother’s best friend, he was very easy on the eyes.

If Brandon hadn’t won her dessert with that outrageous bid, Adam might have. Although going on a date with him might have been a little weird since they used to run around naked in his backyard as infants. “So things with Rachel are completely over?”

“Yep. I thought she was the one. Guess the joke’s on me.” He finished his Coke, and Abby took his glass. Emma had considered serving beer for Batter Up night, but her cousin didn’t want to draw any unneeded attention to their unorthodox practice by requesting a liquor license.

“Well, you never know . . . maybe you’ll get back together.”

“Doubt it. Not when she’s making out with pretty boy reporter even as we speak.”

Abby froze. There were only two pretty boy reporters in this town, and she was all but sure Adam wasn’t talking about Jason. “She’s with Brandon?”

“Saw them in the park on my way here.”

“And they were kissing?”

“Yep. Apparently they were challenged to break Tom and Bridget’s record.”

“Record,” Abby repeated. “What record?”

“For town’s longest kiss.” He looked down at this watch. “They’ve been going at it for a little over an hour.”

Abby’s heart squeezed at that news. Why did this town have to encourage this type of behavior? One thing was for sure, she needed to see the main attraction with her own eyes.

Ripping off her pink apron, she stuffed it underneath the counter. “Okay, everyone out. Emma, throw the leftover batter in the refrigerator. We’re going for a walk.”

Emma said good-bye to the bachelors before turning to Abby. “What has got you so rattled?”

“Brandon is kissing Rachel Foster in the park.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Adam told me.” Apparently, Rachel was the blind date he’d raced out of the inn to go get ready for. How did a casual drink turn into attempting to break Buttermilk Falls’s record for longest lip lock in front of the entire town?

Twenty minutes later, she still tried to answer that question while standing amongst the crowd. Brandon and Rachel were in a full lip lock in the gazebo. The way they were meshed together, neither would be breaking contact anytime soon.

“Are you okay?” Emma gave her a supportive nudge.

“Why is he kissing her, and who is that guy filming it?” Abby pointed to the cameraman hovering around the pair.

Adam came up next to them. “Now can you both understand why I don’t want to see Rachel’s name in my batter? Emma, I’m going to pass on next week, but thanks.”

“You sure?” Emma asked.

“Yeah. Give the opportunity to some other bachelor.”

Abby gave Adam a supportive squeeze but then crossed her arms. She wanted to turn and run, but she couldn’t pry her gaze from Brandon. He appeared to be enjoying his make out session with Rachel, his hands around her as their lips continued to press into each other. “Why is he doing this?” she asked really no one.

Bridget and Tom came up beside them holding hands. “Brandon’s doing some dating game for a blog. He has to go on a series of dates over the next two weeks that involve stunts like this,” Bridget said.

As that news set in, Abby’s heart sank. That’s what Brandon must have been talking about Friday night. Was kissing some random woman he just met really his way of going after his personal goals? “What’s the record?”

“Four hours and twenty-four minutes,” Tom said and high-fived Bridget. “The way they are going at it, he’s not going to make it. A man’s got to pace himself.”

“Tom Reed!” Bridget gave him a playful shove with her hip.

“What? It’s the truth.”

Betty joined them a few minutes later with a large paper cup in her hand. “Oh, dear. I don’t think Brandon will want this.”

“Want what?” Abby asked.

“His shake. He didn’t stop by earlier, so I thought I’d bring it to him.”

Abby glanced down at the cup in Betty’s hands. She was starving, but a shake would hit the spot, too, especially since she bet Betty had topped it off with whipped cream. “I’ll take it.”

“It’s all yours.” Betty handed her the milkshake. “When Hot Lips gets done, tell him he can swing by the Star Lite for his regular.”

“Regular?” Abby peeled the paper off the straw and stuck it in.

Betty nodded. “He’s had one every day since last Wednesday. Over the weekend, he came in three times.”

“Must be delicious.” Abby took a sip, and her eyes narrowed.
Strawberry
. So Brandon suddenly had a craving for strawberries, which just happened to be her favorite fruit. No wonder he bid on her dessert.
This had her cousin’s magical meddling written all over it.

“Excuse me, I need to speak to Emma.” Abby grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled her aside while the crowd continued to cheer Brandon and Rachel on. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Brandon has a newfound craving for strawberries, would you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Emma asked.

She held up the evidence. “Betty says he’s been at the Star Lite every day since Wednesday ordering strawberry milkshakes.”

“And you think I have something to do with his desire for a milkshake?”

“That innocent act isn’t going to work on me, Glinda the Good Witch. You enchanted the cupcake I made for Brandon with your white chocolate strawberry slivers. Admit it.”

Emma waved her hand. “I may have done a tiny little spell when I took the cupcake out to the counter. I didn’t know if it would actually work.”

“Emma!”

“I just thought maybe you were making a mistake.”

“And you thought his eating strawberries would break the curse.”

“No, but I thought it might help jog his memory.”

“Well, it obviously didn’t work.” Abby pointed to the gazebo, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Emma’s phone rang, and her face brightened. “It’s Jason.”

“Tell him his best friend has lost his flippin’ mind.” Abby shook her head.

“I’ll be right back.” Emma took off to take the call away from the crowd. This was the first time that she and Jason had been apart since they’d gotten together. Her cousin missed her boyfriend, so Abby didn’t blame her for heading to somewhere a little more private to catch up.

Abby took another sip and watched Rachel run her fingers through Brandon’s hair as they kissed. She knew it was wrong to stew like she was. This is exactly what she thought would happen. He’d be chasing after someone else in no time. She just didn’t expect it would be such a public spectacle.

What she wouldn’t give to break them up right now. If only it would rain. It wasn’t supposed to storm tonight . . . she tilted her head up at the star-filled sky . . . or was it?

Magic had worked for her last time. Could she conjure up a spell to pull Brandon and Rachel apart?

Maybe, but she’d already returned the spell book to her aunt. Fixing her gaze on one bright star, she wished for a storm to roll in, repeating a silly made up rhyme with the first words that popped in her head. Even though it probably wouldn’t work, it made her feel slightly better that at least she’d attempted to do something.