Page 113 of Stirring Up Love
“This sounds like a whole lot more work than our old recipes. Sure the cooks are up for that?”
“With training, yeah.” The word elicited thoughts of Finn and his cooking school. Had he met with Keith and Constance?
“If business picks up like you think it will, you’re gonna need more staff.”
“I hope we do. The more the merrier.”
His eyes shot wide.
Her turn to lean back, arms crossed. “What?”
He wiped his mouth with a hankie, then grinned. “Just never thought I’d hear the day you were keen on inviting more people intothe kitchen. Ever since your sister handed over the keys, you’ve held them in your hands so tight ...” He made fists. “Heck, Hank’s been scared to show his face in here ever since you ran him out in spring.”
Her grandpa’s right-hand cook was getting up in years. She figured he’d want a break. Never meant to make him feel unwelcome.
Blue eyes mischievous, Pops asked, “This mean you plan to let that Rimes boy have a go at the smoker?”
She shook her head. “Not even if he begs.” Mistake. The image that conjured up ... well, not something she wanted to imagine with her grandpa around. “And besides, he’s got his own thing. Maybe.” She told him about Finn’s dream, and her part in giving him a second chance.
Even told her grandpa how she felt about her former rival, despite everything that had happened, not shying from the truth. Not covering up her feelings anymore.
By the time she’d finished, Pops had plowed through two more sliders. He swallowed a burp and said, “I like him, too, just so you know.”
“You do?” Finn had told her about the starvation tactics.
“Don’t look at me like that. Only boy my baby girl has ever brought home, and you think I wouldn’t put him through it? Been waiting years to make a date of yours squirm. Can’t expect me to pass up the chance.” He grinned, face crinkling under white stubble. “But from what I can tell, he’s a decent man. This culinary school sounds like a worthy idea. And his scrambled eggs put your grandmother’s to shame.”
“He won you over through your stomach? Typical man.” He’d have to try harder than that with her. If he even still wanted her. She was beginning to wonder if she’d been wrong about their connection. Could she be the only one walking around under the gloom of a rain cloud, missing her sun?
Pops leaned his elbows on the table, serious now. “If he makes it up to you, don’t let pride hold you back. You got a good head on your shoulders, but ain’t nothing wrong with listening to your heart now and again neither.”
CHAPTER 41
SIMONE ANDFINN
The first cactus arrived on Tuesday. Simone was chatting with an old friend who’d stopped in to Honey and Hickory for lunch when the front door swung open and a man wheeled in a tall box on a dolly. “Which one of you is Simone Blake?”
She went to raise a hand, then stopped herself. “What is it?”
He peered at the mailing label. “Says here it’s from Desert Sunrise Nursery. Out of Phoenix, Arizona.”
She signed for it, then opened the box. A three-foot-tall cactus sat in a pot.
The next cactus arrived an hour later. Hand delivered from Loretta, the florist in town. A tiny, round, spiny thing in a pot. No note.
Simone discovered the third cactus when she sifted through the mail. It tumbled out from under a utility bill and fluttered to her feet. A pink-bloomed prickly pear on a postcard. She flipped it over and found only a return address:Sedona, AZ.
A sliver of happiness burrowed into her heart and took root.
The next morning a cardboard box was waiting on the back steps of the restaurant. She pulled off her gloves and used her keys to open the package, too impatient to go inside for scissors. A trio of succulentssat nestled in jars. An unsigned note said:Not quite cacti, but too cute to resist.
By noon she had cactus sunglasses, cactus oven mitts, and a cactus in a tiny glass terrarium.
At two, the door opened in a burst of cold air, and every single member of the Yarn Spinners came in. “We had so much fun with these,” Mrs.Snyder declared. Each one of them placed a knitted cactus on the cash register stand. Twelve in all. “A cactus garden.”
She only smiled because the knitters had spent so long on these handmade gifts, not because of how thoughtful it was. “I hope he paid you.”
“Oh, hush now,” Mrs.Snyder said, giggling. Which meant yes, he’d paid them well.
