Chapter 12 #2
“Good man.” Frank smiled, then turned to help his wife load up the last of her bakery order. Seth watched them for a moment before stepping inside, ready to see Allison and grateful for the moment of normal in a day that had already held more shock than anything else.
Seth opened the back just as Allison braced her knees to lift a bulk bag of flour from the bottom shelf in the storeroom.
“You really gonna try to lift that on your own?” Seth’s voice drifted in, rich and full of amusement.
Allison let out a huff and looked over her shoulder. “I’ve been doing this a while, Seth Hansen. I’m stronger than I look.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he said as he stepped closer. “But there’s strong, and then there’s sensible. Let me get it.”
Before she could argue, he bent and effortlessly lifted the fifty-pound sack, settling it against his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
Allison stood and wiped her hands on her apron, watching him carry it through the prep kitchen with practiced ease.
“Where do you want it?” he asked .
“Next to the mixer,” she said, moving to clear a space.
He set it down gently, then straightened and grinned at her. “You’re baking for the entire county this week?”
“Pretty much. I’ve got two birthday orders, a church breakfast, and I’m starting to bake the rest of the items for the Fall Festival. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be free on Saturday.”
Seth leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms. “Saturday, huh?” The thought of them spending some time together, alone, in the dark hadn’t been on his mind much. Just every other second of the day. He smiled.
“Yeah,” she said, opening the bag and pulling out a scoop. She looked up at him. “You remember our date, right?”
He tilted his head. “You mean the one I’ve been thinking about every day since we set it? Yeah, I remember.”
That earned him a smile, small and soft. “Good,” she said, cheeks coloring faintly. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
He took the flour scoop from her and pulled her into his arms. “Me, too,” he said. Then, more quietly, “More than I probably should. ”
Allison looked up. “Why do you say that?” Her eyes moved from his to his lips.
He smiled, and he knew he looked like a predator, but he didn’t care. “Because this thing between us? Feels like the kind of thing that doesn’t just go away.”
The kitchen stilled for a moment. Outside, a pickup rolled past, the tires crunching gravel on Main Street. Inside, the air felt warmer, closer.
“I don’t want it to go away,” she said, pressing closer against him. “But I’ve got baggage, Seth. I’m a mess half the time. And I overthink everything.”
He held her tighter.
“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll match just fine.” He lowered his head and kissed her. The flame he’d imagined leaped into a raging fire. He pulled away. “Damn, you are delicious.”
She blinked up at him. “It’s the sugar.”
He laughed and shook his head. “No. It’s you.” He dropped for a kiss again. The sweetness of her wasn’t artificial, it was real, and it was addictive as hell. When he drew away, she sighed and leaned against his chest. “Are you sure? I know I want this, but are you sure?”
He tightened his arms around her. “You have baggage, and well, so do I. I’ve got a dad who sometimes forgets his own name and a house that smells like antiseptic and wet dog. My life isn’t perfect either, but I still want this with you.”
Allison tipped her head up and looked at him. “I do, too.”
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, warm and certain, the silence stretching easily between them. Finally, Allison cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said, “if we’re trying this, you should know that you signed up to help me lift five more bags of flour.”
Seth groaned, but he was smiling. “That’s a lot of dough, Sanderson.”
“You don’t scare easy, Hansen. Do you?”
“Nope,” he said.
Allison huffed a laugh, brushing a streak of flour off her cheek with the back of her hand. “Remember, you offered, big guy. I didn’t force you.”
“Remind me of that when I can’t feel my back in the morning,” he teased and released her after a quick kiss. He walked over to the flour and hefted it without any problem before taking it over and setting the bag down gently near the mixer.
She handed him a scoop and opened another bin. “If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re not gonna find it in here. Try Edna. She believes Bigfoot eats hunters and sympathy for breakfast.”
Seth chuckled and took the scoop from her, brushing his fingers over hers for half a second longer than necessary. “So, we’re still good for Saturday?”
“Of course,” she said, glancing at him from under her lashes. “Unless you’re planning to cancel on me for another hot date with your dad and Delbert.”
“Nope. You’re top of the list,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
Allison gave him a soft smile, then turned back to organizing pie tins on the counter. “Good. Me, too.”
For a moment, the only sounds were the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of metal against metal. The quiet wrapped around them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Settled.
Seth stepped closer, dusting his hands on a dish towel before reaching over and straightening one of the pie pans. She turned slightly, her face inches from his. Her eyes widened just a little, but she didn’t step away.
Seth hesitated, just for a beat, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips .
It was gentle. Not rushed. Not possessive. Just enough.
He felt her intake of breath. Then the softest hint of her leaning into him, her mouth parting willingly for him.
He pulled her against him. His need overtaking gentleness.
He searched her mouth with a passion he didn’t try to curtail.
He wanted this woman. He needed her in a way he couldn’t express with words.
So, instead, he used his tongue, teeth, and hands to let her know how much the connection between them meant to him.
He lifted away quickly, and before she could speak, before he allowed her thoughts to catch up with the moment, he smiled.
“See you tomorrow,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over her cheek where a little flour lingered.
He spun and went out the back door with a casual wave.
Not his best move, but if he didn’t get out of there, they’d end up on the floor with flour bags as a mattress.
Not necessarily desirable or sanitary, for that matter.
As he hit the bottom of the steps, he heard her call out, “Did not see that one coming! I like the surprise attack.”
“Good, I’ll keep you guessing,” Seth called back and headed to the general store. He’d sit with Delbert and his dad for a while.
The porch boards creaked softly as Seth leaned back in the old wooden rocker, the one Chester had built before Seth was even born.
It groaned under his weight, but it held, just like it always had.
Gomer stretched out on the rug beside him, muzzle resting on his paws, his breathing slow and even.
The breeze carried the scent of sage and dry earth, and the stars above scattered across the inky sky like someone had spilled a box of silver dust.
He sipped from the chipped enamel mug in his hands, black coffee still hot enough to keep him company. It had been a long day. A full one. A heavy one.
Kate had thrown him for a loop. Seeing her again after all those years, in a vet clinic of all places, right here in Hollister, felt like one of life’s strange little full circles.
She hadn’t changed much. Still sharp, still quick to smile, and still dead honest. The way she’d looked at him when she mentioned the job at the Marshall ranch …
yeah, she knew exactly what she was offering.
And then Frank Marshall stopping him? That wasn’t a coincidence. That was orchestration or at least confluence .
He scratched the back of his neck, thinking about the conversation.
It hadn’t been pushy, just … interested.
Respectful. But underneath the small talk and easy tone, Seth knew Frank Marshall was sizing him up.
Calculating. That offer might be a lifeline or a snare.
He hadn’t decided which yet. The snare would be his need to take care of Chester.
He wasn’t going to ditch that responsibility. He couldn’t.
Still, none of that had rattled him half as much as Allison had.
He smiled, slow and involuntary, the memory of her mouth under his still buzzing through his veins.
It hadn’t been planned. Hell, it had barely even felt like a choice.
One minute, she was working, her cheeks warm, her hair pulled back in that loose, careless way that made her look even more beautiful.
Next, she was standing close. Like close enough that the scent of cinnamon and sugar clung to her skin.
So, he’d pulled her in and kissed her. Rough, real, and fucking addictive. The chemistry between them was real.
Now, sitting there with the night wrapped around him, Seth felt content, even in the swirl of questions surrounding his father.
He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Chester’s good days came and went like clouds drifting over the prairie. Some days were clear. Some were lost in the fog. And Seth was still trying to figure out how to be a son, a caregiver, and maybe, just maybe, a man falling in love.
But tonight?
Tonight, he had those delicious memories.