Page 11 of Wild As Her

My coffee trailer, Steamy Sips, has been a lifeline for me for the past few years. It started out as a way to bring in some extra income to help out with the ranch, marrying my love of coffee with business.

At first, I took my trailer to festivals, fairs, food truck events, concerts, and anywhere else that would have me. Now, I rent a space in a parking lot and keep it there for the locals. Bridger Falls is a small town, but they love their coffee just as much as I do. I pride myself in giving them the best they’ve ever had. I’ve even been baking for the past year, and while I’ve gotten better, I’ll admit I wasn’t very good at it at first, but now I’ve got sourdough bagels and scones down. I’m proud of my latest pumpkin scone that I can’t seem to keep in stock. It doesn’t even matter if it’s autumn or not, they’re best sellers.

I grab my baked goods, which I stayed up late into the night baking last night, and load up. The drive is long, but it’s something that relaxes me. The views are stunning, and I take this time to reflect and think about how I can figure out a way to keep the ranch.

As I drivethrough town, the streets are already bustling with trucks and cars. Word has spread that a film crew is setting up in town, but I’m not sure what they’re doing here yet. Everyone has been tight-lipped about it. I’m hoping I’ll get it out of someone today who is willing to trade secrets for treats.

I park in my usual spot behind my trailer and get everything unloaded. There’s already half a dozen trucks parked, waiting for me to open up in twenty minutes. I get my fresh coffee going and stock the bakery case.

While the heat warms up the trailer, it doesn’t take long for the line to grown even longer. Locals chat and speculate about the film crew on the picnic tables I have set up out front. I pour drip coffees, make lattes, and hand out pastries. The usuals have their small talk, and it’s a welcome distraction from the stress I’ve been carrying from the ranch.

I work quickly, filling orders and handing out coffees to regulars, and I can anticipate what they need before they even need it. A familiar figure steps up to the counter. His dark brown cowboy hat and sunglasses don’t hide who he is or what effect he has on me. The lazy smile he gives me shoots straight to my core, and my traitorous body responds, and I hate that, too.

“Mornin’, Wilder,” he says innocently with a slow grin. “Did you miss me?”

“No. I’ve already had enough of you for one day.” I groan and look up at the ceiling, pretending to be bored. “What do you want, Jessop?”

“Coffee. You know how I like it. Black, just like your soul.”

I glare at him and try to deny the thrill that sears through my body when he’s in my space. “I see you’re still following me, Jessop. You know, that’s called stalking.”

“Just here for coffee, Wilder.” He leans back and gives me a grin.

“Pumpkin spice latte, coming right up,” I say sweetly, with a deliberate lack of enthusiasm and disregard to his order. I slide the cup of black coffee I already poured across the counter, my fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. A current passes through me, and I ignore it and look away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice softening. “By the way, you’ve got quite the line forming.”

“No shit. Now, move so I can do my job,” I say dryly. But secretly, I don’t want him to go and I’m glad that he’s here.

He taps his card on the reader and stuffs cash in my tip jar. He steps to the side and chats with a few locals, sipping his coffee. His presence here is oddly comforting. Every so often, his gaze lands on me, sending a shock through my body.

It’s lunchtime, and I’m exhausted and sold out of every single bakery item. And no one is offering any information on the film crew. Apparently, nobody can be bought with a coffee or a scone. Oh, well. I sink into the stool behind the counter and exhale a deep breath. Jack is still out there, only now he’s perched on the tailgate of a local’s truck chatting.

I watch him, thankful that he can’t see me. He is the most exasperating person I’ve ever met.

He does seem different now. But being different doesn’t take away all the hurt he caused me years ago.

Shaking my head, I turn back to the counter and focus on cleaning up. I don’t have time for distractions. I’m about to lose everything.

I brew some nighttime tea and glance around at my kitchen, a mess with baking supplies. I’m baking my treats for tomorrow, but what I really want to do is crawl under my cozy blanket on the couch and take a nap. I know I won’t stop until I haveeverything baked, cooled, and the kitchen spotless again, so I get to work, and time passes before I remember I still have other things to take care of around the ranch.

I sigh when I remember that I still need to go out and knock out the chores.

I hear a noise, and when I open the back door, I find Love. However, there’s also a shadow of a figure sitting on one of my chairs. Panic settles deep inside as I reach for my knife, which is on a magnet next to my stove, while flipping on the light.

“Ollie! You scared the shit out of me!” I hold my hand to my chest, and he sits up in his chair.

“You can put the knife down,” he says, as he eyes me like I’m a crazy person.

“You know you can just come in the front door like a normal person. Not creep around on the back porch,” I scoff, still trying to bring my breathing down.

“I was watching the sunset with your dog,” he says as he affectionately pets Love.

“I see that,” I say as I reach into my apron pocket and turn off my phone alarm for the oven timer.

“Smells good in there. Whatcha got?” he asks with a grin.

“Come have your pick,” I say as I hold the door open.

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