Harvest Ranch was a small town with a lot of big personalities and extended families. Wynn had married into one of them right after high school, built a house on the family plot, and buried her husband a few years later. Her husband’s family, the Westbrooks, kept her and the kids close. Which was just fine by her. Her own family was a mess. Her parents divorced a few years back, and Mom moved away. Dad … Well, she didn’t want to think about him.
When Grandpa Westbrook had died, Grandma divided up the farmland among her children. The lots on this side of the street were owned by Judd and his siblings. So far, there were three houses and room for more. On the other side of the street was a string of cousins and Grandma Karen’s original house. There was more space on the outside of town, where the oldest son raised cattle, trained horses, and rodeoed.
Grandma Karen had built an industrial kitchen off the back of her home and started the chocolate shop on Main Street. Her daughter, Michelle, added in a coffee bar and changed the name to Choco-Latte when she took over. It was no surprise that Presley, Michelle’s daughter, followed in her mother’s and grandmother’s footsteps and became the best chocolatier in the state. She hand-dipped twice a week, making the street smell like heaven and tormenting every sweet tooth within three miles. Wynn happened to have two of them.
Judd wiggled the bag, making it crinkle. “Presley said you’d want mint, but I told her you’ve been leaning toward the milk chocolate orange truffles.”
Wynn dropped her head back and let out a groan. “Okay. You’re forgiven for sneaking my children off to the candy store.” Not that he was ever in trouble. Ever since Thatcher passed away, Judd had been the kids’ emergency contact, babysitter, and go-to for all things male. Wynn didn’t know what she’d do without him.
He grinned triumphantly and held out the bag.
She went to take it, her mouth watering. Seeing the paint and stain glistening on her skin, she made a face. “Hang on.”
Judd opened the bag. “I got you.”
He held out a truffle for her to bite. She opened her mouth and closed it over the whole treat, her teeth scraping against the side of his finger as she pulled back. Her stomach swooped, and her heart stumbled over a beat. She locked eyes with Judd, and her breath caught.
What was that?
Chapter 2
Judd
Judd’s mouth went dry and fell slightly open. His fingers tingled where Wynn’s lips had made contact. He tried but failed to swallow. “I … uh …”
He needed to pull himself together. This was Wynn. No matter how hard he’d tried over the years, he’d never been able to think of her as a sister. And man, had he tried. But unlike his baby sister, Birdie, Wynn was just a year younger than him, and she was his best friend.
It was strange, growing up with the knowledge that his brother was going to die before he was thirty. No one expected him to get married, father kids, or even build a house on his family plot. But he did all those things—thanks to Wynn.
Wynn and Thatcher fell in love in high school. She came from a dysfunctional family and was aching to love and be loved. Thatcher’s family was full of love but short on time. Wynn didn’t care if they had five minutes or fifty years together. She’d found a safe harbor for her heart and parked her ship there. She was a hero to Judd and his family, giving Thatcher the chance to pack so much more life into his allotted years.
At first, Judd had been jealous of Wynn. He and Thatcher were close in age and joined at the hip since the day Mom and Dad brought Thatcher home from the hospital. Having a girl in the mix disjointed their relationship and knocked him off his spot.
Or so he’d thought. It hadn’t taken long for Wynn to win him over. She was the one who’d insisted Judd join them on dates to watch a movie or get hopelessly lost in the corn maze at the Harvest Festival. They’d become three of a kind, a trio of best friends. Wynn had helped him navigate his first heartbreak, and he’d helped Thatcher build the swing set in the back yard when they’d been expecting Miles.
Through all of that, Judd had looked at Wynn as Thatcher’s woman. Not once had he seen her as a single, available gal. Not while they turned her garage into a work room for her advanced crafting projects. Not while he cooked dinner for the kids so she could take a shower and relax for a few minutes. And certainly not when they’d all pile on the couch to watch the latest Disney movie and stuff their faces with popcorn on Saturday nights.
Those thoughts had stayed locked behind an iron door. Until her mouth brushed his fingers. All she’d done was graze her teeth across his skin, and the hinges on the forbidden door sprang open. He tried to shake himself free of the knowledge that she was more than his buddy, his pal, but that was like trying to shake off steel grip pliers.
He dropped the bag of oopsies chocolates on the worktable. “I’ll get the kids going on homework so you can clean up.”
“Do you have to go back to work today?”
Judd owned an electrical company. He had several trucks and guys out on jobs but had already made the rounds checking in and putting out fires. “Nope, I’m good.”
“Do you mind sticking around tonight too? I have the pre-festival meeting.”
“Right.” He snapped his fingers. “Sure.”
“It’s not a problem?” she pressed, her forehead creased with concern.
His hand twitched to wipe the lines away, but he managed to keep it at his side. Wynn wasn’t, nor would she ever be, his. They were friends—best friends—and he wasn’t going to mess that up by doing something stupid like caressing her cheek. “I’m happy to be here.” He was. This house felt much more like a home than his did. His was quiet—so quiet he could hear the fridge hum. “I’ll start dinner.”
He ducked inside, shooing the kids ahead of him while he gathered himself. He pulled ground turkey from the fridge and a frying pan from the hook on the wall. His eyes stung as he chopped an onion. It felt good. Normal.
By the time the kids followed their noses in for dinner, he was back to himself.
Chapter 3
