Page 150 of Huckleberry Hill
Chelsea headed to the back, and I looked at Wade. “So that turned into something?”
Wade grinned and shrugged.
I kicked his foot. “That’s for getting my boyfriend drunk last night.”
“I’m guessing he doesn’t need a place to crash,” Wade said.
“A place to crash?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
“He texted yesterday, midmorning, I guess. And asked if he could sleep on my couch.”
“He didn’t tell me that,” I said. “He just said he asked you to be his friend. But that was last night at the bar.”
“I told him I would be his friend,” Wade said. “So he doesn’t need my couch anymore?”
“He doesn’t need your couch.”
“What did I miss?” Gracie asked, when she returned.
“My dad got my boyfriend drunk last night—with Wade’s help.”
Gracie raised her brows. “Boyfriend?”
“Declan,” I clarified.
“Well, well, well,” Gracie said with a grin. “It looks like that test drive turned into a buy. I’m going to need all the details to that story. Not just the headlines.”
I laughed. “I’ll tell you everything later.”
“Someone’s standing at the door,” Gracie said as she looked to the front of the bakery.
“We’re closed,” Muddy announced. “Tell them to go away.”
“I will, but politely.” With a groan, Gracie got up and went to answer it. She unlocked the door and opened it.
“Hi, Dr. Swanson,” she greeted.
My ears perked up and I looked at Muddy.
“We’re closed to the general public after a crazy fluke of a rush,” Gracie said. “We all needed to catch a break.”
“I drove by earlier and saw the line,” Dr. Swanson said. “I thought I’d come back. But you’re closed now, so I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Nah, come on in. We have a few pastries left and the espresso machine survived the gauntlet.”
“You sure?”
“You’re a local.” Gracie stepped back and let Dr. Swanson through the door. She was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes.
She also looked no older than thirty.
Gracie took her hand and led her farther into the bakery.
“Hi, everyone,” Dr. Swanson greeted. Her gaze turned to me. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”
I stood up from my chair and held out my hand to her. “I’m Hadley Powell.”
“Hadley,” she murmured. “Nice to meet you.”
