Page 39 of Honeycombs & Homecomings

“We wait and see what happens next. If we don’t hear from him by Saturday, we’ll take you back.”

“You’ll just . . . take me back?”

“We’re not set up for or interested in kidnapping people. We just want our money.”

She slouched. Yeah, that might have been a teeny bit her fault. While the guys had insisted on taking her to see their boss in Harvest Ranch, as soon as he’d ended up being useless under Honey’s strong growl, she’d demanded to see the man in charge. She’d had no idea that was in Atlantic City. And Honey wasn’t taking no for answers.

Jo must be worried sick by now.

Chapter 13

The fogginess of sleep slowly lifted from Jo’s mind, with the sounds of someone bustling around. She thought she heard the fridge open and close, but that made no sense—her room wasn’t anywhere near the kitchen. And from her dream the leftover scents of eggs, cheese, and bacon wafted around her, making her stomach growl.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

The clink of a metal plate being set down on wood surface next to her head jolted her the rest of the way awake.

She shot bolt upright, scooting into the back of the fold-out sofa at the same time she screamed and yanked the covers up under her chin.

Cash whirled around to face her, his hands up. “What? What is it?”

Her scream died halfway out, her fear quickly swapping places with anger. He rushed toward her at the same time that she grabbed her pillow and chucked it in his face.

“What in tarnation are you doing here?” She blinked the sleep from her eyes, and glanced around, still heaving in gasps of air. “Where am I?”

He lowered the pillow, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “The apartment above your store.”

She rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands and looked again. “Right.” She blinked, that’s right—they’d moved out the farmhouse. Her hunger dissipated with the sinking sensation that followed her new reality. “Well, how’d you get in here?”

Cash pulled a key from his pocket. “I took one of the keys yesterday when I dropped you off.”

She knew she should be mad, the pure cheek of the man keeping her house key without her permission, but knowing he had a key made her feel safe.

She was still glad that her mom had stayed with her aunt through the end of the week. She would’ve been humiliated to have woken her up screaming the way she just had. She was so on edge—felt a little uneasy and wasn’t sure why. The reason seemed to be just out of reach in the back of her mind. Maybe a dream she’d had. Or, it could’ve been because last night was her first night staying here. She hadn’t wanted to leave it be after the break-in, and had spent most the night jumping at every little creak, and with the heavy winds they’d had last night, she’d heard a lot of creaks.

Cash sat on the edge of the bed. “You okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” Her muscles relaxed, then tensed again as a thought occurred to her. “What time is it?”

Cash lifted his hands and lowered them up and down slowly. “Relax, it’s seven. It’s still early.” He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed something—an omelet. “Here; eat up and when you’re done, we can talk about what’s going to happen in the next couple days.”

She took the plate and stared at the most beautiful and delicious smelling omelet she’d ever seen. “You made this for me?”

He grinned, slow, and it sent tingles up her spine. “You’re not surprised, are you? I used to make you ladies breakfast all the time.”

She picked up the fork, cut a piece and took a bite, then groaned at how amazingly delicious it was.

“You like it?” Cash asked.

“So much!”

He stood and headed back to the kitchen. “Good enough to appease Allie?”

Allie had always been Cash’s biggest critic. Although, Jo suspected that was just Allie giving him a hard time. Allie always enjoyed giving Cash a hard time. And Cash’s cooking had gotten better because of it.

Allie.

She jerked forward, nearly spilling her breakfast everywhere. “Allie!”

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