Thanks for the sweet buns. See you tonight.
—Mr. Sunshine
Her heart attempted a triple flip but crashed after a two-and-a-quarter turn. With a tremulous smile, Aubrey traced his words with her fingertips. His handwriting was surprisingly neat, but bold and decisive like its arrogant creator. Warmth and a spark of happiness burst in her core. The moment felt more intimate than anything she’d experienced before.
No, no, no.Aubrey threw the note back on the table. After staring at it for three seconds, she pushed it away a little farther.Do not pick that up again.Being with Landon felt far too good. Far tooright.It scared the shit out of her. She couldn’t let her guard down. Last night had been a close call—she’d been a few seconds away from climbing him.
Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut. What would she have donethen?Give myself to him and pray I’ll beenoughfor him? Hope he won’t cast me to the shadows?That was plain dumb. Relationships failed. Even when couples committed their lives to each other, they only had a fifty-fifty chance of staying together.
Love was a gamble.How much would you bet on a game with fifty-fifty odds? For me, a hundred bucks, tops.That was her cap for how much she could lose at a casino. But love demanded the ultimate all-in.You can’t divide your heart and bet a safe portion.Aubrey wasn’t a gambler. She had to fold.
She couldn’t stray from Operation Friendship. It was best to keep this a friendly business arrangement. That was the only way no one would get hurt. Aubrey took a big breath and put her fists on her hips, superhero-style.I’m going to get Landon out of my mind.How?
Two. Words. Strawberry shortcake—with port-macerated strawberries.Well, six if you count the description.A familiar excitement hummed through her as she imagined her new dessert.Damn it. It’s fortified wine, not port. Seven words.
If she wanted to bake the perfect dessert, she needed to shop for the perfect ingredients. Fortunately, these ingredients didn’t involve alcohol. Aubrey got ready in record time, jumped on a pretty beach cruiser bike—courtesy of Lucien—and pedaled toward the small enclave of stores down the hill. A soft breeze ruffled her hair as she sped across her beautiful surroundings with gleeful abandon. By the time she arrived at her first destination, she was breathless and laughing.
The produce shop was filled to the brim with colorful local produce, from artichokes to zucchini blossoms. Aubrey’s palms itched to touch and buy everything, and she barely managed not to drool.
“Eureka,” she breathed. In the midst of the bounty, she spotted a small row of gorgeous scarlet strawberries.
“Fort Laramie.”
“What?” Aubrey spun to face a giant of a man, her hand pressed to her chest. She craned her neck to take in his height and barrel chest.
“The strawberries,” he said. “They’re the Fort Laramie varieties. Not Eureka.”
She released a breathy laugh, her momentary surprise fading. “I was saying, ‘Eureka!’ as in ‘I found it!’”
“I see. California gold rush slang. Sorry, it’s been awhile.” His weathered face crinkled with amusement. “I’ve never seen someone so excited over strawberries—even Fort Laramies!”
“They smell so intense.” She reached out to touch one. “And they’re heavier than they look. They must be juicy little buggers.”
“Mmm-hmm. They’re the sweetest strawberries around, too.” The man stuck out a porterhouse steak–size hand. “I’m Jorge. Welcome to Central Coast Produce.”
“Hi, I’m Aubrey.”
He freed her hand and offered her a sample. The tender bulb exploded in her mouth in a symphony of flavors.
“I love your Fort Laramie strawberries.”
A warm, baritone chuckle permeated the air, and Aubrey realized Jorge was a teddy bear despite his formidable size. “Well, join the club, but I love all my beauties equally.”
“I need a dozen quarts.” Then she bit her lip. “I’ll be cleaning you out, though. Is that all right?”
“I’m a farmer, but also a businessman. Getting cleaned out is a good thing.”
Aubrey’s jaw dropped open again. “You grew all these?”
“Yup.” His teeth were dazzling white against his weathered skin. “Except for the flowers, olives, and grapes, these are all from our farm. My wife and son usually man the shop, but they went to some fancy organic farming seminar.”
“How wonderful.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Eggs. Do you have eggs?”
“Only the best eggs you’ll ever taste.”
