“Beauden took them into the kitchen. I brought all thirty-six jars. I’ll bring the soap Wednesday. They should all be set by then.”
“All fifty bars?” she asks excitedly.
“Yes. I did half and half lavender and coconut.”
“Okay. Hold on, let me get your money. I sold all the jars and soap in here and they have the empty jars in the kitchen,” she says as she walks over to the small desk.
I offer a dollar off for each jam jar returned. I thoroughly clean and sanitize them before reusing. It saves on jars, is good for the environment, and just makes sense. The canning process requires a lot of sterilization. I normally sell my twelve-ounce jars of jam for fifteen dollars and my soaps for eight dollars a bar but she gets it wholesale, obviously. The money from today will go a long ass way.
“Here you go,” she says, holding an envelope out to me. “Eleven hundred.”
“Eleven hundred. It should be eight,” I say, a little confused.
“I just went ahead and added the money for the soap. That way you can just drop it off on Thursday and don’t have to see me. I’ll be at the house Thursday. We have a corporate retreat starting Wednesday and I like to stay out the way when the lodge is booked.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, truly appreciative.
“No, thank you. I’m obsessed with your stuff. If you can, bring more soaps and jam for in here Thursday. This retreat has thirty people. I’m sure they will want to take something authentic back to the city.”
“I’ll definitely bring some. Thanks again.”
“Of course. Did you get a tree yet?” she asks as we walk out of the store.
“Not yet. I need to get one. Amara is so ready for it to be up.”
“Then, I’ll make sure Beauden has one cut and tied for you Thursday too.”
“You don’t have to do that. I was going to buy one.”
“But I wasn’t going to let you,” she says with a smile.
“Then I’ll have something for you too. I tried a new peppermint soap. I’ll bring you a few bars to test for me.”
“I can’t wait. I love peppermint bath oils. I know I’ll love the soap and maybe it’ll calm her during bath time,” she says while rubbing her tiny belly. Yelena’s the prettiest pregnant lady. Her skin truly glows and her little belly is perfectly round.
We make it to the counter in the lobby of the lounge. My crates with the empty jars are stacked on the floor in front. Liberty, the lodge manager, is standing behind the desk.
“Mr. Phox had to head to the stables. He said he’ll be back in an hour so you can take a break,” Liberty tells Yelena.
“He swears I do too much. I’m only five months and he wants me in bed all day,” Yelena scoffs with a smile.
“I can finish in the store for you if you want,” Liberty insists.
“I got it,” Yelena tells her, then turns to me. “Thanks again and I can’t wait for the peppermint.”
When she walks off, I grab my crates and walk to the front door. Liberty rushes over and opens the door. I walk out then remember my keys are in my pocket. As carefully as I can, I balance the crates with one hand and use the other to grab my keys. Right when I get my keys out, a force bumps into my back and my crates drop. I watch mortified as they hit the shoveled driveway and the majority of my jars fall out and shatter.
“What the fuck!” I yell. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I huff loud as hell.
“Damn. My bad,” a deep tenor says from behind me.
Ready to curse out whoever the fuck this is, I swing my body around so damn fast, my head spins. It comes to a complete halt when I see him. Over six feet of pure chocolate looks down at me with the prettiest eyes—dark as coal—I’ve seen. His smooth skin, trimmed beard, and mustache catch my eyes first, followed by the intricate ink on his neck.
This man is gorgeous, but as fine as he is, I’m still cursing his ass out.
“So you didn’t see me?” I snap.
After removing his Jaxson from his head, he says, “I was looking in my phone and I shouldn’t have been. I’m so sorry. Let me get this up for you.”
