Page 82 of A Beach House Beginning

“That should do it, I think. Thank you, dear. You remember that tomorrow night it’s my turn to host the Busybees, right?”

She barely caught herself before groaning. Just what she needed—a house full of chattering quilters who spent more time gossiping than they did working any needles. “I’d forgotten. Hope and I will stay out of the way. Maybe we’ll watch a DVD in my bedroom or something.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s your house, too. I’m sure the girls would love to have you both come out and join us. We’re working on the most beautiful Shooting Star pattern. I can’t wait for you to see it. The star is pieced with graduated diamonds of rust and orange and peach against a blue background and it looks like the whole thing is exploding in the night sky.”

Ellen continued talking about her passion, quilting, but Christa was only half listening now. Through the glass of her office she could see a customer standing at the checkout but no sign of a cashier.

Sully’s usually got by with only one cashier during the afternoon lull, who stocked shelves between ringing up groceries. During busy times—when more than two customers were in the store—Christa would step out of her office to lend a hand as needed.

But she couldn’t see Michelle Roundy, the cashier on duty, who had just finished her second year of college and was home for the summer.

She scanned the store and finally found her in a cereal aisle, her back to the checkout counter while she conversed with a tall man in a cowboy hat. Because of the angle, she couldn’t see who it was, but even from here she could see Michelle putting out the vibe—tucking her hair behind her ear, tilting her head, touching the man’s arm as she smiled.

She sighed, not at all in the mood to play the big, bad boss interrupting a promising flirtation. “Mom, I’ve got to go,” she said. “Looks like the afternoon rush is hitting.”

“Okay. Don’t forget the cilantro. Oh, and maybe some of those blue corn chips you ordered last week.”

Christa hung up and hurried down the office stairs just as the bell on the checkout counter dinged with what sounded like increasing impatience.

She approached the pair in the cereal aisle without sparing a glance at the object of the cashier’s attention. “Michelle, would you like me to check for you? It looks like Mrs. Salazar is ready.”

Michelle’s smile slid away and a flush instantly climbed her cheeks. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Christa. I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the bell. I’ve got it.”

She gave one last flustered smile to the object of her flirtation, then hurried away, leaving Christa alone with the man.

He tilted his black Stetson back and her stomach suddenly danced a little jig. No wonder Michelle had been fluttering around him like a pretty little moth. Few women had the strength to resist Jace McCandless’s rugged, gorgeous features.

She did, though. She had been immunized a long time ago against charming cowboys.

Right?

She forced a polite smile. “Mr. McCandless. Hello.”

“Jace, please,” he said with an aw-shucks kind of smile that played exactly right in all the ad campaigns he did. “I’m not sure who you’re talking to when you call me mister.”

She wondered if that self-deprecating smile fooled anyone. It certainly didn’t her. He had to be smart as the proverbial whip to turn a few good years on the rodeo circuit into his kind of fortune.

She gestured to his shopping cart. “Don’t you have people to do this sort of thing for you?”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you? I’ll confess that I do pay a personal chef from Park City to stock my freezer with ready-to-eat meals that even a dope like me can heat up. But, believe it or not, I can’t always find what I’m craving.”

She raised an eyebrow at the contents of his cart, which included three boxes of cereal high on sugar and low on nutritional value, a box of microwave popcorn and a four-pack of macaroni and cheese.

He followed her gaze and offered up that charmer of a smile again. “I know. Ridiculous, isn’t it? Apparently I have all the culinary taste of a twelve-year-old.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed out loud. “I was thinking more like seven or eight.”

“You have to give me a little credit for some maturity! I left out the Cheez Doodles and baseball card bubblegum packs.”

Oh, that smile was entirely too tempting. A shiver rippled down her spine, and she wanted to stand there all afternoon basking in its glow. Apparently she wasn’t as impervious to sexy cowboys as she had hoped.

“It’s usually a fleeting craving,” he went on. “By tomorrow I’ll likely be back to grown-up, healthy food.”

“But today you’ll eat like a king. Or at least like the king of Sage Flats Elementary School.”

His laughter echoed through the store, sending a warm glow shooting through her as brilliant as any star the Busybees could quilt.

“So how’s Hope today?” he asked.

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