Oh, Mrs. Lindgren. Zoey remembered her—the woman at Brandon and Allie’s wedding who couldn’t believe that Zoey was Brandon’s sister. “So if I can get you a model, can you get someone to cover the clambake?”
“Yeah,” Allie said, sounding excited. “You get me a model, and I’ll send Brandon to do the clambake.”
She knew just the person, and she faced Hunter again. “Okay, I’ll call you back.” She hung up.
Hunter crossed his arms and stared down at her. “I’m not judging the clambake.”
Zoey turned on her heel and marched out of the barn toward the house. “Of course you’re not—you’re plowing up my arena.” She continued on.
“Hey, where are you going?” Hunter called after her.
She reached the back door of the house and knocked. Hunter’s mom answered, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her hair was pulled back in a fashionable messy bun with sections pulled out to frame her face. She was one of those ladies that was always in style.
“Zoey, it’s so good to see you,” Mrs. Westbrook said, stepping out to give Zoey a hug. “Are you here to ride? Do you want to come in? I have some fresh-made double-chocolate chip cookies.”
Zoey grinned at that. Hunter was right: they really did love chocolate. “Actually, I’m in a bit of a hurry. But I was wondering if you’d like to get a honey-themed makeover this afternoon? Allie’s in search of a model, and I can’t think of anyone who deserves a little pampering more than you.”
Mrs. Westbrook blushed and lifted her hands to her cheeks. “You want me to do it?”
“Yeah, and you’ll love it,” Zoey said. “Their face creams are amazing. You’ll feel like a whole new woman.”
Mrs. Westbrook’s hand went to her hair. “Oh my, I have so much to do if I want to go.”
Zoey smiled. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“I’d love to. Thank you!” Mrs. Westbrook hurried back inside. “I’d better go get ready.”
Zoey grabbed her phone and sent off texts to Cash and Allie. Everything was in place. She turned to head back and saw Hunter at the bottom of the stairs, hands on his hips, looking dumbstruck. She came up short.
Feeling suddenly nervous, she forced a grin. “Done.”
“What was that?” he asked, pinning her with a look.
“What was what?” She folded her arms over her chest.
He lifted a hand, pointed down, then circled his hand. “What you just did, working around people like that. How’d you do that?”
She swatted a hand at him and went down the stairs, stopping directly in front of him—too close, entirely too close, but now it was too late. “That was nothing. Supply and demand. I just found out what everyone needed and made it happen.”
“To your benefit,” he said.
She bristled. “And yours. You’re getting those lemon bars, after all.” Her phone beeped with a message from Cash. She quickly read it. “See? Cash is bringing them over to Brandon’s at noon.”
“So let me get this straight. You get the tractor, I get lemon bars, Cash gets to skip the clambake, Allie gets a model, and my mom gets a makeover.” He stared down at her, his silver-blue eyes glistening with humor.
She thought it over. “Yeah, that’s the whole of it.”
“You forgot one thing, or one person,” he said, grinning that sexy grin again.
She glanced down at the dirt path leading from the house, trying to figure out who she’d missed.
Hunter reached out, gently nudging her chin up and sending a rush of heat through her body. “What does Brandon get, besides fifty clam dishes?”
She threw her hands up. “An arena!”
This time he did laugh.
“Now come on,” Zoey said, marching off again toward the tractor. “We have a field to plow. Or no lemon bars for you.”
