“I told him he didn’t make enough.” That husbandly pride couldn’t be overstated. Ashton’s grin outshone Clay’s.
“Well, the Autumn Market is usually where I do the most business. I almost didn’t take a table here—”
“Would’ve been a huge mistake.” Ashton grinned.
“Not going to argue with that.”
I laughed. “No, arguing with one’s husband is never a good idea.” I eyed the jars. “I’ll take two. I don’t want to empty your table.”
“It’s so good.” Ashton pressed his hand against his belly. “You have no idea.”
Clay nudged him. “Why don’t you give him a taste? I saved a couple of cookies for special customers.”
“Oh, I can’t.” I was a guaranteed sale. Better to keep them for people who were hedging.
Ashton waved me off as he grabbed a container from under the desk. “You can have mine. I can always bake more.” He held out the tin which had a few remaining.
Not wanting to be rude, I snagged one. “Thank you.” Then I bit into the pumpkin-spice cookie. My eyes widened. After chewing, I swallowed. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Clay laughed as he handed me a brochure. “Several recipes as well as my website where you can find more. I’m always looking for new ones.”
“I’ll buy two more jars.” I eyed the cookies.
“I can wrap another cookie for you. If there’s someone special you want to share it with.” Even as Ashton said the words, a little blush stole across his cheeks.
“That would be awesome. He…won’t be expecting this.”Should I give Jarrod a jar as well? What if he doesn’t bake? Well, there must be someone in this life.That thought gave me pause. No way, after seventeen years, was sweet and loveable Jarrod still single. That just didn’t happen. Guys like him were snapped up.Unlike guys you might resemble? You’re single. Or did you forget that little fact?
“Are you okay?” Ashton handed me a cookie in a paper sleeve with Clay’s logo emblazoned on it.
“Good marketing.” I gestured.
“Well, I do have a business degree with a specialization in marketing. I still work for Noel Barker, but only part-time.” Clay gestured to his last few jars of spice. “This keeps me busy.”
“Not enough for full-time?” I was curious.
“With Ashton helping? Not quite. I don’t like to be idle, and Noel was great, giving me a job right out of university. Maybe one day this will be all I do, but I like to keep my fingers in several pies. Oh, speaking of pies—have you tried Wyatt’s mom’s pumpkin pie? She uses my spices for some of her recipes, and I have to say they’re divine.”
“I’ll head over that way.”
“Better hustle—they’re as popular as my stuff.” Clay waved. “Nice to see you again.”
I had more than a decade on the two men, but their friendliness always made me smile. Well, Ashton was a touch shyer, but he’d been coming into his own after meeting, and now marrying, Clay. “Yeah, thanks.”
Finding Wyatt’s table was easy. He and Tate were swamped.
I stood in line, waiting my turn, when Wyatt’s mother appeared with a baby stroller. Unless she’d made an interesting life choice, the baby must belong to the couple.
A couple who’d had their own struggles. High school sweethearts, separated when Tate went to school in Toronto, moved to London, England, and then wound up back in Mission City. He and Wyatt reconnected, and they now lived at Wyatt’s family’s pumpkin farm. “Hey Mrs. Phelps—I see you’ve got some precious cargo.”
She grinned the grin of a satisfied grandmother. “Born six weeks ago. Tate’s sister Tamlyn offered to be a surrogate for the boys.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a huge commitment.”
“I know, right? But she saw how happy they were together and knew they really wanted a family of their own. I keep offering to move out—”
“Thank God she hasn’t.” Tate appeared, kissed his mother-in-law on the cheek, and gazed down at his daughter. “How’s she been?”
“Coralie’s been an angel. I’ve fed, changed, and cuddled her. She’s passed out.”
