Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
TINSLEY
T he morning at Sweethearts Bakery & Café is a blur of mishaps. Getting sugar and salt mixed up along with regular and decaffeinated coffee—rookie mistakes. I even walked out with my apron still on before Louella Belle whistled to catch my attention and so I could put it in the wash basket.
It’s not until I spot Aiden, standing on the sidewalk, that anything in my life comes into focus. His back is turned, but there’s a lot to admire from here—his tousled hair, strong shoulders, and his backside suggests he’s no slouch at the gym.
When he shifts slightly and then turns around at my approach, my stomach knots—I’d like to say I took advantage of working at a bakery and café, but nervous about the ladybosses stopping in all morning kept my appetite tied up.
Aiden standing by his motorcycle with Officer Henley doesn’t help matters. The cop greets me and then saunters off.
“Hi,” Aiden says almost breathless.
“Everything okay?” I ask, wondering if he wants to arrest me again or if Henley got word that the FBI wants to take me into custody.
“With Henley? Yep. He wanted to tease me about stealing the cat.”
“Did you steal it?”
Aiden chuckles as he gets on the bike. “For the record,” he starts, using the phrase I did yesterday, “I’m not a thief.”
Except for lady hearts. I press my hand against mine. What has gotten into me? Fatigue? Hunger? I’ll take some cheese curls, please!
But speaking of cats and ladies, as in ladybosses, I have a few questions that maybe Aiden can answer because I’m not used to being around women who’re so nice to each other.Not catty at all. It’s almost unnerving.
“Are the ladybosses and Bess really best friends?”
“They really are,” he says. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were all sisters separated at birth. They’re just that close.”
“I watched Designed to Last but heard Louella Belle and the others applied to be on Mr. Fix-It before they got their show on HLTV. Doesn’t that mean they were competitors?”
“As I understand it, Louella Belle’s aunt who raised her passed away, but she didn’t find out until months later. She’d been traveling abroad and her brother neglected to inform her. He also tried to take her inheritance, but that’s another story. Rhondy got worried when she wasn’t at the funeral. Once back here and living in the Flora & Fawn van, Louella Belle got desperate and applied for the show.”
“What about the others?” My heart aches for Louella Belle’s loss and the way she found out about her aunt.
“Christina was a social media personality with her @DomesticDiva brand, so it makes sense she’d want to level up. Mae was in a slump and living on Bess’s couch. So while Mae was sleeping Bess sent in the contest application.”
I laugh. “Seriously?”
Aiden nods with a smile.
“If my sister did something like that...” I trail off. But she wouldn’t. I can’t remember the last time we even spoke.
“As for Camellia, I’m not sure other than she was a widow and wanted change.”
“How’d Louella Belle become Mrs. Fix-It?”
“She didn’t. They all lost. But she and Bo did fall in love. There was a lot of drama. Some of which involved a toilet. You’ll have to ask her.”
“I’m afraid to. They intimidate me,” I confess.
Aiden tucks his chin. “They intimidate you? I’d think it would be the other way around.”
“They’re successful women in life and love.”
“It wasn’t always that way. Remember what I said about Louella Belle coming back to Butterbury with her tail between her legs? She lived in a van. She and Bo didn’t get along at first. And Christina and Buck straight-up hated each other. It didn’t look like the estate was going to get done. They even fell through a ceiling.”
I gasp. “I must’ve missed that episode.”
“I don’t think it’s been easy for any of them.”
Guilt creeps in like a poison vine when I think about how I nearly ruined Mae and Taylor’s relationship.
“I guess you could say they had a choice when they all lost the contest. They could return to their lives and never look back or take a risk on friendship. They did and now have their own show buying, remodeling, and donating to charitable organizations.”
“It’s not just that, they have an empire, Aiden. The boutique and sweetshop with merchandise and food.”
“Don’t forget the farm tours. And Bess has her show which she’ll start filming soon.”
“Exactly.” I gaze at my hands. And what do I have? I’m successful at being a failure.
“Do you have dreams of running a home makeover show, boutique, bakery, or a farm?”
I shake my head. “No, no, no, and no.”
“What are your dreams?” Aiden asks as he starts the bike.
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” I get on the back and wrap my arms around him. Tingles rush through me and I fail to answer the question about my dream by the time we pull into a parking lot that’s more dirt than gravel.
I glance up at a low brown building with white trim and a flat roof. Several picnic tables sit haphazardly in the front and off to the side. Grass grows around them along with a red, hand-painted sign that says BBQ .
“It’s a little early for lunch, no?”
“This is Bubba’s. Bubba’s BBQ.”
“Oh. Do you think Officer Henley included a hazmat suit with the work gear?” I pull it out of the saddle bag.
Aiden laughs. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Please don’t say it’s worse.”
“Best BBQ you’ll ever eat.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had BBQ.”
“Then your life is about to change forever.”
“I don’t see a restaurant grade posted on the door.” Which probably means it got an F.
“Bubba is a fourth-generation pit master. He inherited this place from his dad who got it from his before that.”
“And they haven’t changed a thing in eighty years, have they?”
“Sadly, no. The focus is on the food and getting by. Because it’s a family business, Bubba is very generous. He takes care of his mother and has six kids. His hands are full, leaving little time for cosmetic upgrades.”
“Forget cosmetic, Aiden. This place is in shambles.”
“Business picked up when he catered the Designed to Last set, but he has a hard time keeping up. And I have a feeling because of that he’s missing out on fans who come out this way. Like yourself, people turn their noses up because—”
“Because the marsh is reclaiming the land? The roof is rotting? The picnic tables look like they’ve been picked over by vultures?”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
I pinch my fingers together to signify that it’s slight, almost nominal.
“Why don’t the Designed to Last ladybosses make it over?”
“Businesses aren’t in their contract. Has something to do with insurance. But they’ve donated a lot of leftover materials. And whatever they don’t provide will be part of our community service project.”
“I earned all of four dollars in tips today. I don’t have much to donate.”
“Don’t worry about that. First, let’s head in and say hello. Bubba is going to be thrilled that we’re here.”
I let Aiden go first even though he holds the door open for me like a gentleman. He takes a deep breath. I’ll admit that it smells good, but the smudged chalkboard menu does little to entice my appetite.
It consists of only five items:
Ribs
Slaw
Collards
Fries
Soda
Another board lists sauce options, including, honey barbecue sauce, honey hickory, sweet and spicy, sweet and tangy, citrus spice, mesquite, mustard, white sauce, red sauce, buffalo, maple, bourbon, teriyaki, peach with vidalia onion, and a secret sauce.
I frown, afraid to know what’s in it.
When a large man wearing a greasy apron appears from the kitchen, I back toward the wood-paneled wall. Bubba is what I imagine the creature that was scratching around outside the trailer last night looks like. In other words, a Sasquatch.
He and Aiden shake hands.
Aiden smooths his fingers and thumb along his own, freshly shaven face. “I see you’re going with a new look.”
“Oh, the beard? No, I just haven’t had a chance to shave. Ginny just had the baby and it’s been all hands on deck all day and night.” Dark circles ring his eyes and his hair needed a cut well before the baby was a twinkle in his eyes.
“Wait, does that make seven kids?”
“We’re at eight.” He smiles proudly.
My heart bounces, recognizing something I’ve never seen before. The man has eight kids and doesn’t think of them as a burden. No, he has absolute love and adoration in his eyes. Never saw my father look at me like that and there were only four of us.
I let out a sigh, unintentionally snagging Aiden’s attention because Bubba’s appearance is the stuff of “Unsolved Rural Mysteries.”
He introduces us. “Ah, Officer Henley said you’d be by to help out. I appreciate it an awful lot. Things around here have gotten away from me. My great-granddaddy wouldn’t recognize the place. It was his pride and joy and I’ve let it fall to ruin.”
I don’t think he had all that much to work with, to begin with, but I keep that to myself.
“We’re not quite the Designed to Last team, but how would your granddaddy feel about a little makeover?”
“As long as I don’t change any of the sauce recipes, apart from the honey, I don’t think he’d object.” A buzzer sounds from the kitchen. “I’d better get that. Have a look around and I’ll fix you lunch before you get started.”
Aiden and I head back outside and he faces the building. “Thankfully, Bo and Buck jacked up the foundation and fixed that so we can work from the bottom up. I’m thinking of a new roof with vaulted ceilings, fans, and a rustic yet industrial look. Kind of like Buck’s forge. There’s enough room for a vestibule and front porch. The patio will be in the back where we can move the outdoor dining.”
This is the part in the movie where one of the characters says the task cannot be done. It’s hopeless. That would be me.
“I thought we were just going to clean up.”
“Yep. Clear brush, landscaping, and assess the roof. And build an entryway.”
“You’re thinking big.”
“You met Bubba. I think he too adheres to the ‘bigger the better’ philosophy. It would be great if we could scrounge up some familial paraphernalia to really showcase the generational element,” Aiden continues as if undeterred.
“What did you say your job is again?” I ask.
Aiden gets a little hitch in his step as we walk around to the side where he then peeks under a tarp that covers materials.
“You could be a stand-in for one of the ladybosses.”
He straightens and meets my eyes. “When I see something, I go for it. When I start something, I see it through.”
In other words, he’s not a failure like me.
“I want customers to know that if they come to Bubba’s they’ll eat like a king and be treated like one.”
“King of the Swamplands.”
“Sure. Nothing wrong with that.”
We go around to the rear of the building where a slight hill leads down to a broad field that stretches to the woods, er, swamp. I let out a breath and a sigh follows, unbidden.
Aiden’s voice is low when he says, “Not a bad view.”
“It is peaceful. Serene.”
We turn to face each other and his eyes dance over my face as if not sure where to land. He brushes a hair from my cheek, likely plastered there from when I struggled to keep up at Sweethearts. My throat bobs with a swallow. His lips part slightly and I’m not sure if he’s going to say something or—
A telephone rings from somewhere inside, startling us both.
I press my hand to my chest. “I didn’t know they still had those things.”
Aiden’s smirk is mischievous like he got caught about to do something other than talking.
We go inside where Bubba is on the phone talking about a broken ice maker.
Aiden moves to peek in the bathroom then waves his hand as if thinking better of it. “New bathrooms.”
Bubba gets off the phone and Aiden gives him the scope of work, adding a new ice maker to his immense list.
“I’m awfully thankful for your help, but is all of this really in the town budget?” he asks.
“Stoll’s pockets are deep.” Aiden winks.
Bubba’s eyes widen. “You sure the mayor wants to invest? I thought he was intending to sell Butterbury.”
Aiden balks. “Sell Butterbury?”
“You can’t sell a town, can you?” I ask.
“Not if you don’t own it.” Aiden’s brows creep together. “What makes you think Stoll intends to sell the town?”
“He said so.” Bubba wipes his hands on a rag and then leans on the counter.
“When? To who?” Aiden asks.
Bubba rubs his hand through his beard. “Probably about two weeks ago now, he was in here with two men. Dark suits, sunglasses. They looked like characters from the movies.”
“Like Men in Black or—” I ask to clarify.
“All I know is he called them both Kraven. Kinda weird that they had the same name, right?”
Aiden’s eyebrows couldn’t inch any closer. “Kraven as in the Kraven Corporation? As in Kraven Casinos? Kraven Cash?”
“I’ve been there. Puma performed at their Las Vegas property several times. I got my room and everything else comped.” I smile.
“Oh, those Kravens. I think they were involved in some alien stuff,” Bubba says straight-faced.
“Men in Black for real?”
Bubba goes on to outline some crackpot conspiracy theories about aliens and data harvesting.
Aiden’s nostrils flair and the muscle in his jaw ticks. “Interesting.”
I whisper. “I’m not sure any of that is real.” Though I can now verify that Sasquatch are.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But the Kravens are real, and they are bad, bad guys.” Aiden stares into the distance for a long moment.
“But you can’t sell a town,” I say, already on Team Butterbury.
Aiden remains silent as if thinking.
“Don’t tell me you think Stoll is trying to sell it to aliens,” Bubba asks.
He shakes his head as if the director instructed him to shake off a dark thought or distraction then he pounds his fist in the air. “Gatlin Stoll is more crooked than a dog’s hind leg.”
“Then why is he still mayor?” I ask.
“The governor was protecting him,” Bubba says.
“He’s the weak link. They need him in play. He’s their puppet, but they can’t say that. I almost had him. But the corruption went further. Now I know where it leads,” Aiden says almost to himself.
“Do you still want lunch?” Bubba asks.
“Definitely,” Aiden says with a smile as if having moved on from whatever dark place his thoughts took him mere moments ago.
We take a seat on the cleanest picnic table outside with two baskets of ribs, fries, and slaw along with a roll of paper towels.
Aiden digs in and I pop a French fry in my mouth. It seems safest. When he’s halfway done with his meal, he says, “Seriously, Tinsley try it. Like I said before, Bubba’s BBQ will change your life.”
“If I get tetanus it’ll change my life.”
“Have you had the shot within the last eight, ten years?”
“I don’t know.”
“Henley put gloves in the bag of work gear.”
“Are you suggesting I eat this with gloves on?”
Aiden tips his head back and laughs.
“I was thinking a fork and knife at least,” I say.
“Come on. Eat up. It’s going to be a long day.”
I relent and am glad I do because by the time we have the weeds and refuse cleared from the front outside the building, the sun dips toward the tops of the trees, and my stomach rumbles. Sweat and dirt form a fine sheen on my skin.
Backlit, Aiden stands a few paces away. He goes still and stares at me. I turn around slowly, afraid Sasquatch creeps up behind me and is preparing to bite my head off. Nothing there other than the field, bathed in golden light.
Gaze locked on me, Aiden stalks my way. Shivers run across my skin. He stops in front of me as a bee buzzes past. The shovel in my hand becomes limp.
Without taking his clear blue eyes off mine, Aiden leans the shovel against the wall. He pulls off each of my gloves and examines my hands.
“You didn’t even break a nail.” His voice is like the gravel under our feet.
“Not yet.” Mine is choppy like my body isn’t sure whether to inhale or exhale.
He turns my hand over and brings it to his lips before pressing them to my skin. His eyes capture mine again. Already flushed, my skin heats further. When he kisses the inside of my wrist, the heat moves from the outside in, flooding me with warmth.
Maybe my man-cation is over. I open and close my mouth, not sure what to say or what to do when Aiden walks across the lot to gather his tools and then waves goodbye to Bubba.
I remain rooted to the spot where the weeds just were, wondering what just happened and why he didn’t want more. Why I do.
The guys I’ve been with either want it all on demand or, like Taylor, keep a respectful distance. Aiden is somewhere in between.
Where does that leave me? Confused and really, really wanting a slice of pie.