Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Domestic goddess I was not. And I didn’t need to be. Not when I had Nora Henderson, baker and chef extraordinaire, just down the road.
I ate at her place often and fended for myself where I could. America had a lot of options for a shitty cook like me to eat reasonably well. Though I did have bouts of guilt every now and again about the food I was consuming and whether it was contributing to the decline of my health or whatever.
Luckily those bouts were fleeting.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I can cook,” I told Kip.
“Babe, we’re gonna be livin’ together for the foreseeable future. Lying to me right now isn’t really gonna do much but embarrass yourself in the long term.”
I wanted to scream. Or punch him. Right in his smug face. “Fuck you,” I replied. “And don’t call me babe. We’re not a couple.”
“You might want to be a little more agreeable to the man who just made you mince and cheese pies,” he told me, bending down to retrieve a tray from the oven.
I blinked, realizing why the scent had smelled so good. Because it was familiar. It was the smell of pie warmers in dairies from my youth.
Except better. Way better.
Kip put the tray of pies on top of the oven, and I stared at them. The crusts were golden, and the pastry looked flaky. Cheese and mince bubbled over the side.
“Glad you married me now, aren’t you?” he asked cheekily.
“Don’t,” I snapped, holding my finger up to shush him. “Don’t you ruin it.”
The pies captivated me, both the look of them and the scent. My mouth literally watered.
I forced my gaze from the pies to Kip. “Is there some catch?” I demanded. “Are you going to make me get on my knees or something?”
Though I would never get on my knees for a man normally, I would for a freshly baked mince and cheese pie when I was hungover.
Kip tilted his head, grasping his chin in an exaggerated pondering gesture. “Hmmm,” he hummed, dragging the sound along.
“Fuck you, asshole,” I muttered. “I’ll go and buy myself something.” Though I sounded resolute, I didn’t actually move. My feet didn’t seem to want to work.
He chuckled as he regarded me. “As tempting as the idea of you on your knees is, I’m not going to make you do anything.”
I regarded him with skepticism. “You’re not going to make me do anything?” I parroted. “You just made mince and cheese pies from scratch out of the goodness of your heart?” Saying it out loud made it sound all the more ridiculous.
“Not exactly out of the goodness of my heart,” he said, reaching up into the cabinets for plates. “I’m hungry, too, and as soon as you talked about them, I was curious. I like making and eating new things.” He waggled his brows, and I groaned at his childish sense of humor.
“No strings,” he told me, placing a pie on the plate and holding it out to me. “Scout’s honor.”
Walking away probably would’ve been the best option.
But my feet carried me forward, and I grasped the plate from him.
“There’s a good girl,” he murmured.
I froze immediately. “No,” I snapped, pointing at him with the hand not clutching the plate. “I am not into praise kink,” I lied.
Kip held up his hands in surrender, and I turned to walk away.
“I’ll find your kink,” he teased.
My step stuttered, but I kept walking.
I bit into the pie—the perfect buttery crust, the seasoned mince, and the rich and sharp cheese complementing it. For the duration of the meal, I found myself thinking it was entirely worth marrying Kip for the pie alone.
four
Deidre
The first month of being married sucked.
Especially since everyone in town knew we were married. And not even my best friend knew the marriage was fake.
Therefore, I had to pretend I was in some kind of honeymoon period. That I actually liked Kip. No, that I was actually in love with him.
The first time he came into the bakery, I swore the fucking clock stopped ticking and the music muted. That’s how quiet it felt. I could fucking hear people’s eyeballs moving in their sockets as they watched the interaction between us.
I hadn’t even thought there would need to be an interaction between us. I’d been doing really well at not thinking of any of the everyday realities that came with marrying Kip and lying to literally everyone I knew.
Therefore, I froze when he and Rowan sauntered in.
Well, Rowan didn’t saunter. He strode, like a badass.
Kip, on the other hand, sauntered. He strutted through life knowing everyone was looking at him because he was hot.
It was fucking infuriating.
Rowan, of course, went right for Nora, who was behind the counter and lit up the second her husband walked through the door. It really was a marvel to see, especially since she used to run and hide whenever Rowan came in.