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“So, was Molly okay with you taking some time out?” Grams asked with a bright smile, changing the subject.
Molly Black was my boss back in Medicine Bow. At sixteen, she’d hired me to work part-time in her bakery, Grandma’s Kitchen, after school. That had led to a full-time position and a place at her purpose-built training school on the outskirts of town, where I met my best friend, Tasha. The training school would give us the skills and qualifications to open up our own bakeries within Molly's franchise.
I’d always loved baking—something Grams and I had done a lot of together before I left the ranch—so it seemed like the perfect fit for me. I was in my final year of training but Tasha, being a few years older than me, had just opened her bakery in Garland, aptly named Valentine’s Kitchen—Valentine being her last name.
Molly had become a good friend, and I’d spent a lot of time at her house with her, her husband, Flynn, and their two young children, Lily and Daniel. She’d been there for me in the days immediately following Mom’s death and hadn’t hesitated to give me an extended leave of absence when I’d told her I needed to come back to Jasper for a while.
One of the many things I loved about Molly was that she gave people like me a chance, regardless of their background or lack of skills. She was an uncanny judge of character. She saw beyond the surface of a person to the potential beneath. Having moved from England, she’d built her business from the ground up, so she was certainly no stranger to hard work.
“She was great, as always,” I said, answering Grams’ question. “I can still do my theory study online, and I catch up on the practical stuff once this,” I waved a hand to encompass the current situation, “is all over.”
“I’m fully aware that I yanked you out of school, darling,” Grams said, patting my hand. “but your culinary qualification is important. The house is yours to do with as you wish. If you need kitchen equipment, bakery supplies, anything, you just go ahead and get it and charge it to my account.”
“Thanks, Grams.” Relief washed over me, knowing I’d still be able to pursue my passion over the following months.
“I’m so proud of you, my Izzy. I just want you to know that,” she said, giving me the familiar smile that had warmed my heart since I was a little girl.
“That means a lot coming from you,” I replied, my voice husky with emotion. My grams was my hero, a pioneer, in my eyes. A woman who’d single-handedly raised her daughter and run this place after my gramps had died. They didn’t make them like her anymore. She was a unique blend of strong, kind, and resilient—traits I’d always tried to emulate.
“Now, about the sleeping arrangements,” Grams said, all business again. “We have plenty of space, but my room is the largest. I’ll have my stuff moved into the guest room, and you two can have my room.”
Share a bed? With Adam? At the thought, my mouth became dry, while my nether regions became wet. “Um, no. I don’t want you to do that. There’s a reason you have the biggest room,” I argued, thinking of her hospital bed and all the medical paraphernalia.
“I agree with Belle.” Adam’s deep voice joined the conversation. “No need to uproot you from your room. As you said, this marriage is temporary. There’s no way anyone would know that Belle and I aren’t sharing a bed.”
An image of Adam and I rolling around naked on crisp sheets had my ovaries twerking and my nipples nudging my bra.
Yeah. It was going to be a long ten months…
