Page 32 of Moonstruck Kiss

I frown. Not going to be worth much? What on earth is he talking about? The potential income from Theo’s First is astronomical.

Me: I think the Barkers will want a hell of a lot before they even consider selling. Theo’s First might not be tested and proven in the marketplace yet, but the demand for it is already insanely high just from that one post from Chelsea Banton. As long as it tastes good, which I’m sure it will, I have no doubts it will become a consistent bestseller. The only thing that would lower the ceiling on what the Barkers can get for MC is their lack of capacity to meet demand.

Lando: Exactly! That’s why the acquisition by Teews has to happen before the Barkers find that extra capacity that’ll make MC more expensive. I’ll push the lawyers to hurry up. In the meantime, if you learn anything else that might help us get the best outcome for our client, let me know. And remember to keep everything on the down-low.

Me: No worries.

Shit. I didn’t anticipate Lando thinking along the lines of Teews acquiring Moonstruck Chocolatier before they’re able to buy Chocolates at Oldington. My usually sharp work brain has gone into holiday mode.

Anyway, the final decision always rests with the Barkers, and they’d already indicated there was no way they’d sell. So, sharing that information with Lando is largely irrelevant.

Still, something about acting against the Barkers’ interests doesn’t sit well with me. After all they’ve done for my whole family, it doesn’t feel right to keep all this from them.

I suppose it’ll be different when I’m able to disclose that Teews is—or will be—a client of ours. This secrecy is only temporary. Once everything’s in place and I can tell them my position, I won’t feel like an asshole.

Right. Now I can go help Joey at the barn without carrying guilt. She’s just let bygones be bygones, and I don’t want her attaching any negativity towards me again.

I walk out to pleasant weather—a good day to go bike riding to the Pies’ barn. It should take me no more than fifteen minutes to get there.

Thankfully, Mum, Dad, and Liss are taking turns looking after Ollie today, allowing me to spend as long as I need at the barn. In fact, they were at pains to tell me I shouldn’t hurry back.

As if I don’t know what’s going on in those scheming heads of theirs. Even though I’m not fighting my attraction for Joey as hard as before, I have to avoid anything that will make them believe I’m interested in seriously dating anyone from here. Nothing to do with Joey living in a small town, but everything to do with me calling New York home. The only thing that could possibly happen between us would be something casual.

Which is something I’ve been contemplating. Dreaming about, even. After apologising to her yesterday and having that laughing fit together, there appears to be much less tension between us.

Negative tension, I mean. Because the sexual kind that enveloped us yesterday was so damned strong that I had to wank myself to the picture of her in my head last night.

Fuck, now I’ve got a hard-on.

As I get on the bike and pump the pedals hard, my mind keeps playing all the different ways Joey can alleviate it.

Dream on.

Two cars are parked near the Pies’ old but well-maintained wooden barn as I get there. I was hoping for a few minutes alone with Joey before everyone else arrived, but no such luck.

The side door is open so I walk towards it instead of the double doors at the front. It’s closer to where I left the bike. As I approach, I hear two women talking to each other.

“What time did he say he was coming?”one of them asks loudly.

I don’t recognise the voice, but I’ve spoken a few times to Maggie when hiring kayaks, so it’s not her. It must be Emory, whom I’ve only met once before.

“He’s supposed to arrive at nine,”Joey calls out from another part of the barn.

My lips curve up. No prizes for guessing who they’re talking about.

“Just remember to tell me when you see him coming,”says Joey.

“So you can make yourself pretty first?”Emory teases.

That stops me in my tracks—and has me moving away from the door so I won’t be seen. Now, I’m not an eavesdropper by any means, but I can’t help myself.

“Hey, am I not pretty already?”Joey demands.

Of course, you are, Dimple.

I roll my eyes. Man, I seem to have lost my marbles since she’s forgiven me.

“You know what I mean,”says Emory.

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