Page 95 of Wild As Her

“No, you don’t.” Violet grins. “And we got off with a warning. No arrest.”

“The day is still young. We could get arrested,” Poppy offers.

But it's Jenna that catches my attention when she turns back to us from talking to her assistant. "I have an idea."

I groan. "No, Jenna."

She nods and smiles. "Just wait and see..."

I didn’t come to the lodge to rage bake.Okay, not entirely.

The double oven at the Jessop Lodgeisamazing. The kitchenhas way more counter space than the kitchen at the Wilder Ranch, and I may or may not be hiding from Jack. I know when he's done for the day, he'll go back to Wilder Ranch, and hopefully he won't think to look for me here at the lodge. Plus, I’ve had one of those shitty embarrass yourself in front of Jack kind of evenings, and nothing soothes the soul like chocolate and butter.

So yeah. Maybe this is a little in my feelings kind of baking. But mostly it’s... therapy. With extra chocolate chips.

I’m rolling out pans of cookie dough when the side door creaks open, and two familiar figures wander in like they just smelled dessert through the walls.

“Please tell me those are for public consumption,” Weston says with pleading eyes.

“If by public, you mean you guys, then yes,” I say, scooping out the dough and plopping it on the tray like it did me dirty.

Tucker whistles low and leans against the fridge. “Man, when Jack said this oven was getting used more lately, I didn’t realize it was for... emotional damage control.”

I hold up a dough-covered spoon. “Mock me, and you get nothing.”

Weston grabs a stool and pulls it up to the island. “I’m not mocking. I’msupporting.There’s a difference.”

They watch me work like they’re in the front row at a baking-themed contest.

“You want to test the first batch?” I ask.

Weston practically moans. “That’s the best sentence I’ve heard all week.”

Tucker nods solemnly. “Might propose.”

The kitchen is warm, golden, and full of cookie-scented comfort. I laugh and slide the tray into the oven. I’ve always loved spending time with Tucker and Weston. Honestly, the grown-up versions of the Jessop boys aren’t bad company, surprisingly sweet for grown men who survived growing upwith their dad. They’re like brothers to me, and I’ve really enjoyed spending time with them. I’m going to miss them when the show is over.

Tucker takes a bite of a test cookie and groans. “This tastes like comfort and childhood. Tessa used to make us cookies like this.”

“Can confirm,” Weston agrees. “If Jack doesn’t marry you, I might.”

I snort. “Wow. You know how to make a girl feel special.”

“We’re just saying,” Tucker adds, “Jack’s an idiot if he doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“I’mliterallycovered in flour and butter. Your brother is on a date and has no interest in me.”

Weston smirks at Tucker. “Exactly his type.”

Before I can respond, the back door creaks open again, and speak of the devil himself, in strolls Jack.

Hair mussed from the wind, sleeves still rolled up, that permanent what now? look on his face.

He stops in the doorway, eyebrows raised, looking surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

I don't even flinch. I just smile too sweetly and say, “How was your date?”

Tucker coughs into his cookie.

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