Page 1 of Mountain Man's Secret Crush

one

Junie

“Hurry up.” I pleadwith the lemon cookies to take their own sweet time to bake in the bakery’s new confectionery oven. The oven was the first major purchase my sisters and I made when we took over ownership of the town bakery last month.

The salesperson at the appliance store highlighted the oven’s speed and even cooking features, but right now, I’m starting to think the oven is more of a lemon than the cookies it’s baking.

I glance at the clock on the wall above the oven as the minute hand moves closer to my favorite time of day when Brooks walks into my store, his silent yet strong presence filling the space. He stops by the bakery every day—sometimes alone, sometimes with his niece Molly.

Molly is six years old and filled with piss and vinegar, just like I was at that age. She has all three of her uncles wrapped around her little finger. Especially Brooks, considering he picks up her favorite unicorn sugar cookie every day like clockwork.

Speaking of clockwork, he's about to arrive any minute, and these cookies are far from baked. I need to finish decorating them for the quilting club.

Decorating the square lemon cookies with quilting block designs is challenging, especially keeping the lines straight. I prefer more whimsical decorations, like the unicorn cookies.

The unicorn-decorated sugar cookies are our best seller with the young girls. I make sure to save at least two for Brooks and Molly in a special box. It might sound pathetic, but the highlight of my day is when I hand Brooks the small pink box tied with a white sparkly ribbon, and our fingers touch.

It doesn’t help that my heart melts every time I see the small, delicate box in his big, strong hands. It makes me wonder how those hands would feel on my body.

“Earth to Junie. Come in, Junie.”

I jump at the sound of my sister Iclyn's voice. She’s the most unfortunate of the three of us with her name.

Our parents are quirky and decided to name us something related to the month we were born in. Obviously, I was born in June, Autumn was born in October, and poor Iclyn was born in December.

She was called Icy or Ice Queen growing up so often that she now embraces the nickname and refuses to date. She spends her free time fostering cats and other animals.

If it weren’t for the bakery, I’m afraid she would end up a crazy cat lady living deep in the mountains with hundreds of felines running through her cabin.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“She said you’d better let her take over the lemon cookies so you can be at the register when your boyfriend and that demon child show up for their special cookies.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And Molly isn’t a demon.” I scowl at Autumn and her weird sense of humor. “She’s a sweet kid who lost her parents and is being raised by a guy she barely knows, who just married her nanny and is having a baby of their own.”

“Feisty.” Autumn laughs as she playfully snaps my butt with a dish towel. “For someone who claims he’s not your boyfriend, you’re quick to defend his family.”

“Quit touching her ass with that towel. Do you want the food inspector to close us down?” Iclyn rips the cloth out of Autumn’s hand, causing her to laugh even harder.

“You mean the same sexy food inspector who looks like he should be chopping wood instead of handing out code violations?” Iclyn’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red at Autumn’s teasing. “I bet you would love for him to punish you for violating his rules.”

I should feel guilty for taking so much pleasure in Autumn changing her target from me to our oldest sister. As the youngest sister, I’m usually the one they pick on.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?” Iclyn pushes past me, shooing me out of the way as she slips on a pair of oven mitts, expertly pulls the trays of perfectly baked lemon cookies out of the oven, and places them on the cooling racks.

“Never. Life is too short to be serious.” Autumn smiles as she places the small cookie box I carefully packed earlier today into my hands. “Now, get out there and maybe say more than two words to him. It’s not like you to be so tongue-tied about anything.”

She’s right. Autumn is the jokester, Iclyn is the serious one, and I’m the talkative one. “I was thinking about asking him to the summer festival tomorrow.” I bite my lower lip—a nervous habit I’ve been trying to break without any luck—and wait for them to tell me I’m a fool.

“I think that’s a great idea. Besides, you don’t want to die a virgin, do you?” The truth in Autumn’s words stops me in my tracks.

I glance at Iclyn just in time to see the sadness in her eyes before her gaze shifts back to her usual icy blue coolness that only reinforces her title of ice queen.

The three of us are closer than ever now that we moved to Templeton Ridge and started our business, Mountain Morsels. The fact that we all know we’re virgins isn’t a surprise.

With a nod and renewed confidence to ask Brooks to the summer festival, I tighten my grip on the box of goodies for Brooks and Molly and step back from the kitchen, using my shoulder to push open the swinging door that leads to the front of the bakery and take my place behind the cash register, relieving Brynnlee, our full-time front counter help.

“It must be almost four o’clock.” She steps away from the cash register with a knowing smile, giving me space to place the cookie box under the counter before I take her place so I can start taking the customers’ orders.

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