Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zander
Plain Daisy Ranch has brought a peace to my life I haven’t had in a long time, maybe ever, but even as quiet as it is, I need to get out of here again before I go stir-crazy.
The last few days leading up to the actual filming, every time I step outside the lodge, there’s some crew member waiting with a clipboard full of questions.
Thank God I had decided to bring Jack on as co-director.
Romy is proving to be a big distraction.
A good one, but I still need to make sure the bases are covered as far as the video goes.
After breakfast, I let Beau go do whatever he does during the day, and I head to The Knotted Barn.
Romy is in her office as usual.
I’ve been trying not to think about our almost kiss, but that feels impossible now that I’m standing in her doorway.
She looks up from her computer. “Oh, hey.”
I grab the trim of the door above me, needing to do something with my hands so I don’t head across this room, pull her up from her chair, and tell her she made the wrong decision last night. That she shouldn’t have pushed me away.
“I need a really big favor.”
She leans back and runs her hand over her stomach. “I feel like I’m already doing you a big favor.”
I chuckle, staring at her stomach. God, I can’t wait to see that swell. “This one’s much easier, I promise.”
“Good, because the one I’m doing for you now is giving me horrible heartburn.” She opens a drawer, takes out a bottle of antacids, pops two in her hand, and puts them in her mouth.
“What do I have to do to get you to take me out of here?”
“Take you out of where?” she asks, mumbling around the antacids.
“I need to get off the ranch.”
“Again? Oh, well, I’m not—”
“No, no, no, listen to me. I know we can do it. I have a hat and sunglasses.”
She laughs. “I was told a hat and sunglasses would not disguise the magnificent Zander Shaw.”
I cross the room and sit in the chair across from her, resting my clasped hands on her desk. “I want to see Willowbrook. I want to see what everybody’s always talking about. I keep hearing all these stories about a bakery with pumpkin spice cream cheese cupcakes, some donut place with apple spice.”
“Shouldn’t it be me who has cravings?” She grins at me, brown eyes alight with amusement.
“Fair, but some chicken place was mentioned? The Sprout something? And people showed me pictures of the gazebo in the town square.”
She stares at me long and hard. “Zander, you’re not missing out on anything. It’s a small town. You’ve seen plenty. It’s like all the rest.”
“It’s not just any small town. It’s the small town where my kid is gonna grow up.”
She releases a slow breath and stares at me, hand resting in her lap. “You’re asking me to somehow hide you and take you into town. We’ll get caught, and then Beau will kill me—”
“You let me handle him. But we’re not gonna get caught because I have a hat and sunglasses.” I wink at her.
She chuckles. “I don’t think you realize… I was out last week. I had to run to the post office. And honestly, I’m not joking, Zander, there is so much press outside of these fence lines. So much.”
“It doesn’t matter. I want to see everything. I don’t even care if they see me at this point.”
“Beau cares,” she argues.
“I’m the one who matters. My well-being matters. So, I’m asking you—take me to Willowbrook. Let me see where our kid’s gonna grow up.”
That same look crosses her face, the one she always gets whenever we come close to broaching the topic that she’ll be the one primarily raising our child.
It kills me to know I’ll be flying in and out of his or her life.
But what choice do I have? I have to support my child, make sure they’re set up for life and never want for anything.
That means I have to travel. Plus, I don’t want my kid to grow up with cameras in their face and people pestering them.
They deserve to have a normal childhood on a ranch like this, surrounded by family.
She sighs. “Fine. Let’s go. But you’re gonna have to be on your best behavior. And I want to see the hat and sunglasses.”
I smile and stand, feeling victorious. “Awesome, let’s skedaddle.”
She eyes me. “I don’t see a hat or sunglasses.”
“I’m gonna stop by The Harvest Depot and pick some up.”
“You’re just going to swing by The Harvest Depot where people are loitering to catch a glimpse of you?” Her eyebrows raise as she stands and goes to a cabinet in the corner.
“What choice do I have?”
She hands me a pink Plain Daisy Ranch baseball cap, oversized sunglasses, and a green scarf with the logo for Plain Daisy Ranch on it.
“Man, you really like your logo, huh?” I look at the green winter scarf. “Not sure it’s cold enough for this yet.”
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of cold. I figured you could cover up around your neck and half your face.”
“You don’t think that will draw more attention? Me looking like I’m going to rob someone?”
She shrugs one shoulder and grabs her purse. “It’s either that, or I don’t take you. I don’t want to face Beau’s wrath.”
“Fine,” I grumble.
We leave The Knotted Barn and walk to her house, where we get into her small SUV that doesn’t do shit to hide me. I put on the hat and sunglasses, hoping no one looks too closely. We get out past security, her smiling and waving, distracting the guards from me.
The minute she drives us under the iron arch that says Plain Daisy Ranch, I strip off the hat and sunglasses and ridiculous scarf and let out a huge breath.
“Thank you.” I roll down the window and stick out my head.
She laughs. “You’re like a dog on its first car ride.”
The breeze flows through my hair. “You have no idea how good this feels.”
“You’re fine on these country roads, but once we get into downtown, you’re gonna have to roll that window up and put that stuff on again.”
“The scarf too?” I whine.
She smirks. “Yes, the scarf too, you baby.”
We reach downtown, rolling down Main Street.
I do as she says—window up, hat on. The heart of Willowbrook unfolds around me—a barber shop, a hardware store, a bakery.
People are strolling down sidewalks and there’s a big gazebo in the center.
It’s life, and I’ve missed it. It’s everything small-town America is supposed to be.
Then I spot a pastel blue storefront with flower boxes spilling over with daisies and a sign for The Sugar Cottage.
“Is that the cupcake place?” I point at it.
She laughs. “Yeah, that’s Laurel’s. She wasn’t allowed to come to your private party the other night, but she’s Gillian’s best friend.”
“Which means we can trust her?”
Her stare sharpens. “Zander, I promised you one car ride up and down Main Street. That’s it. You got to hang your head out the window, and I’ll even let you hang it out on the way home. But we are not stopping. We are not getting out.”
“I like your mom voice. It turns me on.”
“Oh my god.” She looks away, and I’m pretty sure it’s to hide her smile.
“Come on, if she’s Gillian’s best friend, surely, we can trust her. You’ve been going on and on about how trustworthy the people in your life are.” I lean over the console really close to her. “I’ll even wear the scarf.”
“You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
I glance at her stomach. “I think I already managed to do that.”
She laughs. “True story. All right, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll park, and we’ll walk in casually and go right to the back.”
“Sounds like a plan. I kind of like this. It’s kinda like MacGyver stuff.”
“It’s not MacGyver stuff.”
“Why not?”
“Because MacGyver fixes problems, and I have a feeling we’re about to create one.”
“So, maybe more like Mission Impossible.”
She shakes her head and pulls into a spot. “We’re gonna get out nice and calm, go straight inside, and walk right into the back of Laurel’s bakery.”
“I like this side of you. We could’ve had some fun together had I known you were like this.”
“We had fun together, and our prize comes out in six months or so.”
I laugh, adjust the scarf, hat, and sunglasses, then we exit the car and slip inside.
A blonde woman glances over her shoulder. “Romy?”
“Hi, Laurel.” Romy waves and keeps walking.
“Should I call the police?” a woman sitting at one of the tables says.
“Did he have a gun?” another woman asks.
Romy tugs me into a corner, and the blonde who greeted us walks around the corner, holding up a pair of tongs.
“What’s going on?” She raises the tongs.
“What are you going to do? Pinch my nose?” I ask, which was probably the wrong decision, since the woman is now annoyed. And I like my nose a lot. It gives me character.
“Sorry.” Romy pulls the hat and sunglasses off me.
Laurel’s eyes widen. “Oh.” She glances toward the front area, then back at me. “Why are you bringing trouble into my store?”
“We’re not bringing you trouble,” Romy says. “Zander just heard something about your cupcakes and…”
“Oh, you did?” She smiles, and her hand covers her heart. “What did they say?”
“Romy’s doing me a solid. I wanted off the ranch. People keep raving about your pumpkin spice ones. After some swindling, Romy agreed to sneak me in here.”
Laurel laughs. “It’s not really the best time. I’m expecting about fifteen little visitors in”—she checks her watch—“three minutes. If you look at those tables, it’s all set for them. So, I’ll grab some cupcakes, put them in a box, and bring them to you. Then you’re going out the back door.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate this,” I say.
Laurel gives Romy a look, then disappears to the front of the place.
The bell above the door rings, and suddenly kids’ voices flood the bakery. Romy’s eyes widen.
We hear Laurel panic in the front area, saying, “No, no, wait, wait, wait!”
But it’s too late. The kids have already walked into the back room.
And lo and behold—Leia and Wren are two of the fifteen visitors. Both squeal and scream at once. “Zander!”
Romy shoots me a look that says I told you so.