my grandma.”
“That’s nice.” The register beeped as she slid lettuce across the conveyer. “Are you a real cowboy?”
“Nah, I just found the hat.” He softened the joke with a smile.
Her hand paused on the T-bone package. She giggled. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am. Sorry. I ride bulls.”
Her eyes widened. “No way. That is so scary.”
If he lived to be a hundred, he’d always enjoy that kind of reaction, as if he was something special because he wasn’t afraid to get on a bull. “Only if I don’t stay on.”
Which had happened way too often this season.
Another customer pulled into the lane behind Jake. Bolstered by the friendly cashier, he turned to acknowledge the woman, and his heart tumbled.
“Allison.”
“Jake, hi.” Her wide smile did crazy things to his head. “What are you doing?”
“He’s visiting his grandma,” Tattoo Girl said as the register beeped and plastic crinkled. “Isn’t that sweet?”
Allison’s eyes danced with merriment. “He’s a sweetie, all right. Are you shopping for Miss Pat?”
“I’m not much of a shopper, but yeah, sort of. I wasn’t sure what to buy.”
“She made a list. Didn’t you bring it?”
Ah, man. The note was sticking on the refrigerator. “Forgot about it.”
Allison backed her cart out of the checkout. “I remember. Go ahead and pay out and then we’ll go again.”
He should refuse, but he couldn’t. When it came to Allison Buchanon he didn’t have a lick of sense.
Jake glanced at Tattoo Girl who hiked one shoulder and said, “Why not?”
He could think of a lot of reasons.
By the time he paid out and found Allison, an easy task in the small family-run store, she was pondering the brands of laundry soaps.
“I can’t remember if she said Tide or Cheer.”
Jake studied the detergent as though they mattered. “Pick one. I don’t care. I’ll be doing the laundry.”
“Do you know how?”
“Allison.” He grabbed a box and sent it thudding into the basket. “Single guys learn to do laundry or go dirty. I prefer not to smell like the bulls I ride.”
“But you don’t cook.” So small she barely reached his shoulders, she gazed up at him through big brown eyes he’d never forgotten. Did she have any idea how pretty she was?
“How do you know I can’t cook?”
“I saw your shopping cart.” She made a cute face. “Steaks and salad are a guy’s go-to meal. And then you’re done.”
Jake let a smile creep up his cheeks. “Wise guy.” Though she was anything but a guy. Little Allison had grown up. “I don’t suppose you’d take pity on a man for eating out a lot.”
She tossed in a box of fabric softener sheets and pointed to the west. “Next aisle over. Come on. We’ll stock the cabinets.”
“Who’s going to cook?”
Her answer nearly stopped his heart. “Me.”
So much for avoiding Allison Buchanon.
* * *
Allison left the warehouse office at five-thirty, stopped at The Bakery to discuss Faith’s cake with Cindy, the best and only wedding cake decorator in Gabriel’s Crossing, and then headed toward Faith’s house.
Jake’s truck was noticeably absent as she drove past the Hamilton place, and if she was disappointed, she tried not to be. She’d see him tonight, though she questioned her sanity, as well as her family loyalty. At the same time, she wanted to be there for Miss Pat, a woman who’d taught all the Buchanon kids in first grade. And Allison loved to cook. Buchanon women were noted for their kitchen gifts.
Right. As if Jake had nothing to do with the buzz of energy racing through her system. A buzz that had begun the moment she’d seen him again and hadn’t let up.
She passed two little girls pedaling bikes and pulled to the curb outside the faded red brick where Faith had lived alone with her mother since her parents’ divorce twenty years ago.
“The topper is in,” she said without greeting when her BFF pushed open the smoked glass door. Tall and narrow, Faith was a bleached blonde with a long face and gray eyes who could play the fiddle and clog at the same time, a feat Allison found both charming and hilarious considering her towering height.
“Did you take a picture?”
“Do birds fly?” Allison whipped out her cell and scrolled to the photo. “The next time you’re not tutoring after school, you should stop by and check it out. The cake is going to be gorgeous.”
“Ooh, I love this.” A pair of silver and crystal hearts twined on a silver base engraved with the initials of the bride and groom. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”
“Only the best is good enough for my bestie. How did the dress fitting go?”
Faith made a face. “Let’s put it this way. Don’t tempt me with ice cream or pizza until after the wedding. One more pound and Clare will have to paint the dress on.”
“Tell that to Derrick. He’s the one who wines and dines you like a princess.”
“One of the many reasons I love the guy.”
“Derrick is the steadiest, most dependable man in Texas. You’ll be a princess forever.”
Faith grinned. “From stork to princess. I love it.”
Faith’s superior height had made her the object of too many jokes through the years. Though Derrick was two inches shorter, he adored his fiancée the way she was.
Every girl wanted a man like that.
Ever present in her thoughts these days, Jake flashed into her mental viewer. He’d been entertainingly inept at the grocery store, and he’d made her laugh over a can of spinach.
“Stop calling yourself a stork. You know how many times I’ve wished I was tall enough to reach the second shelf in the kitchen cabinet?”
“I can change a lightbulb without a chair.”
“Lucky duck.”
Faith laughed and hooked an elbow with Allison. “Come on. I have a stack of RSVPs to go through. Let’s see who’s coming to the biggest party in town.”
With the wedding in three weeks, time was running out for all the last-minute details. “I touched base with the band and the caterer this morning, and scheduled the final fitting with all the bridesmaids.”
“And?”
“Everything’s a go. The caterer even managed some vegan dishes for Jayla and her friends after I sent over some suggestions.”
“She’s a genius.” They settled side by side on a fawn-colored couch. “So are you. How do you find time for all this?”
“The perks of working for family. When the office is slow, I make calls or run errands.”
“Saturday for the bridesmaids, right? What time?” Faith chewed the edge of a fingernail.
“Stop that.” Allison swatted her friend’s hand. “Ten o’clock. Which reminds me, are you going for acrylic nails or natural?”
“Do you actually