Page 69 of The Right Woman

As she bops inside, she makes a spin, her vintage skirt flying up around her waist. She crooks a finger to beckon me inside. I sit in my truck, stunned by her reaction. Or lack thereof.

She’s the safest person I’ve ever felt to spill every thought and emotion to. A smile crosses my face. I did it. I opened up, and it makes me realize…

Piper and I are perfect together.

Her little body dances toward the door, and I hurry to catch up. I break into a sprint, and she squeals as I chase her inside. Just as she darts for the kitchen, I snatch her up into my arms and place her on a counter, then step between her legs.

“Rosy, you need to behave, or daddy will need to punish you.”

“Hmm, maybe I want him to.”

My lips meet hers in a soft kiss before I pull back. A glint crosses her eyes as she waits for me to say something.

But I just gather her up, toss her over my shoulder, and race up the stairs with her jostling and giggling on my shoulder. My palm swats her ass, and she screams my name.

“You’re going to get it hard, little girl. You ready for it?”

“Always.”

Epilogue

PIPER

It’s so hot.Not only is the summer morning blazing, but the ovens are adding to it with their yeasty steam until I hurry to the back door and throw it open. The back of my forearm meets my sweaty cheek as I swipe up a drop before it falls onto the counter. Fuck. Got to start all over again.

The swinging door squeaks as Shirley pops it open with her generous hip. A few strands of her gray, frazzled mane sneak beneath her pink headwrap. “Any more orange scones? Old man who comes in every Thursday wants to know.”

“Not today. I can barely keep up with the doughnuts!”

“We need more help, Miss Thing.”

She never calls mebossor any sort of formal title. I actuallyreallyappreciate it. It’s less pressure on me to perform as theownerof a bakery. Like, Shirley and I are just hanging out, making fun cakes and cookies. We’ve become best friends, despite that she’s in her late sixties, has about a gazillionchildren, grandbabies, sisters, and a husband that’s “retired so much, he looks dead half the time.”

“Tell your sister to come over here and help us! I’ll give her the same rate I do you. We can’t keep going like this.”

“She’s too lazy. Let’s get one of those high school kids after school. My niece— Another customer.” The door swings with a groan as she heads back to the front.

Can I afford that? Adon says I can. With the way sales are going, things are rapidly accelerating until I may need to expand. In space and staff. It’s only been two years since I started, andRosy Sweetshas done better than I ever could have dreamed. Shirley is a huge part of that.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s about to become co-owner. Her family recipes, combined with my “newfangled” ideas, have helped this place be successful. That and being the only bakery near campus for the university kids.

As quickly as she left, she returns with a scone in her hand, wrapped in a napkin. With a heavy sigh, she shakes her head. “Man out there says there was something in this one. He looks pissed.”

My brow furrows as I inspect the sweet. It looks fine to me. I dust off the flour from my hands onto my apron and take it from her. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Don’t know. He’s causing a scene, I think.”

“He didn’t even taste it! Ugh! Probably just looking for money back.”

“He said he found something in the last one he bit into, so he was afraid to bite into that one. Maybe one of the cranberries was hard, I don’t know. I’ll try to shoo him off.”

Shaking my head, I snap it in half and freeze.

A ring drops onto the stainless-steel surface where I had been rolling dough. The intricate pewter sides are cut like it’s vintage. Something from the art deco era. And just my style.

My hand slaps over my gasping mouth. “It’s a diamond…”

What in the world?

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