Regret at Roosevelt Ranch by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946140289
Publisher: Elise Faber
Published: 2019-08-03T18:30:00+00:00

Thirteen

Henry

He stared at the angry woman glaring at him through the window of his front door and sighed.

Really, it had only been a matter of time before this happened.

Bella had been in town for just over two weeks, and he’d spent nearly every waking minute with her. The town was in a whirlwind between her sudden appearance, the incident with Sergio—who’d been released on bail then had promptly skipped town like the bastard he was—and the fact that Henry had spent the last fourteen plus days walking around with a stupid ass grin on his face.

They were also in a frenzy over her baked goods.

He couldn’t keep tiramisu in stock, her lemon cream pie had been chosen decisively over his, and her blueberry cobbler had sold out within the first hour.

Three different people had begged Bella to make pans for their birthdays.

And one of their birthdays wasn’t for six months.

She’d blushed at the attention, thanking them and promising to make a fresh batch for the following day.

So, yeah, Henry didn’t think that Bella’s dream of a bakery was that far off.

But Bella wasn’t the one staring angrily at him as he strode down the hall to his front door.

Nope. Unfortunately for him, that was his mother.

He paused, considering the wrath he’d face if he turned around now and pretended he hadn’t seen her.

“Don’t you dare!” Her voice was shrill enough to pierce right through the wood and glass.

Girding his loins, he opened the front door.

His mother swept inside, pausing briefly to kiss him on the cheek. “I have been hearing about this blueberry cobbler all week,” she said, striding into his kitchen. “It’s all the ladies at the Garden Center can talk about, but does my own son bring me any?” A long-suffering sigh. “No. I waited and waited—”

“Mom, you’ve been home all of one day,” he interrupted, sliding past her to open up his fridge. He did, in fact, have a pan of blueberry cobbler hidden away. It had been Bella’s practice run and though she’d proclaimed it unworthy for sale, he’d thought it was delicious and wouldn’t let her throw it away. “Hold the tirade for a minute.”

Now, he served up a scoop on a plate and popped it in the microwave.

Bella would have his hide for that later, for daring to put her masterpiece in something as terrible as a microwave, but she’d just have to deal. He needed to get cobbler into his mother’s mouth as quickly as possible.

“Up,” he told her, pointing to a barstool as the microwave dinged.

Turning, he grabbed a carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer, spooned some on top, and then passed the plate over.

She all but snatched it from his hands.

Henry waited as she ate, well familiar with her tactics. His mom was sneaky— distract, avert, wait for her opponent’s guard to drop . . . then bam, a shot directly to the head.

Or maybe, in this case, the heart.

Luckily for him and his budding relationship with Bella, his mother had left the morning Bella had arrived in town.

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