Chapter 3
Chapter Three
W hen Noelle got back upstairs after talking with Casey, she wasn’t surprised to find Mimi waiting for her. Her grandmother had always enjoyed meddling in her granddaughters’ lives. Especially if it had to do with the Remington brothers.
Regardless of the Remington-Holiday feud, Mimi had always had her eye on the brothers as mates for her granddaughters. Probably because Casey and Rome were successful ranchers and Mimi would do just about anything to make Holiday Ranch succeed.
“So it looks like you and Casey have finally figured out there’s more to all that teasing and anger than meets the eye.” Mimi had always thought Casey’s teasing and Noelle’s hatred of that teasing hid a much stronger emotion.
She was wrong.
Nothing was stronger than Noelle’s hate for Casey.
“Not hardly, Mimi. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still an arrogant jack—butt.” Her grandmother didn’t put up with cussing, unless it was from her. “So don’t be trying to match me up with him like you matched up Rome and Cloe.”
Her grandmother’s eyes twinkled. “I’d say that worked out pretty well.”
It had. Cloe and Rome were as happy as two bugs in a rug.
“Rome and Cloe worked out because they have mutual respect for each other. I don’t have a speck of respect for Casey.”
“I don’t know why not. Underneath that charming teaser is a damn fine rancher and a good man.”
“Rome is the damn fine rancher and a good man. Casey just pretends to be a rancher when there isn’t a beer or a woman around.”
Mimi chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a young man sowing his wild oats.”
“He’s not only sowed them, he’s burned down the entire field. And I’m not looking for an arrogant, irresponsible man who can’t keep his pants zipped.”
Mimi studied her. “Is that what happened with Kenny? He couldn’t keep his pants zipped?”
That hadn’t been the problem at all. In fact, it had been the exact opposite. Kenny had had no problem zipping his pants up . . . after Noelle pretty much offered herself up on a silver platter.
“I don’t want to talk about Kenny, Mimi. He’s water under the bridge. Nor do I want to talk about Casey. He showed up here tonight because of a misunderstanding. Believe me, he would never come courting.”
“If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s never say never.” With a smug smile, Mimi turned and headed to her room.
Noelle sighed and went back to bed. Although it took her a while to get to sleep. Her mind kept returning to the weird emotions she’d experienced while in Casey’s arms. After staying up until well after midnight, morning came much too quickly.
Getting up at the crack of dawn was the worst part of covering for Sheryl Ann. Nothin’ But Muffins opened at seven o’clock in the morning and the muffins and coffee needed to be ready before then. Which meant Noelle had to get up at five so she could be out the door by six. Once she was showered and dressed, she headed downstairs to say goodbye to whoever was up.
She stepped into the kitchen and froze when she discovered her parents locked in a passionate embrace. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen her mama and daddy kiss before, but it had been a while and never quite as R-rated. Embarrassed, she quickly ducked back out. She was so distracted that she walked out the front door without paying attention and ran right into the cowboy standing on the porch.
“Whoa there.” His hands closed around her arms to steady her.
She stared at the muscled chest beneath the flannel shirt for a second before lifting her gaze . . . to the handsomest cowboy she’d ever seen in her life. She tried not to stare, but it was impossible.
Gah, the man was gorgeous.
“You must be Noelle.” He held out a hand. “I’m Reid Mitchell, the new ranch hand.”
She snapped out of her daze. “Oh! Reid Mitchell.” She took his hand and pumped it awkwardly. “My family has told me all about you.” Not all about him. They hadn’t mentioned how hot he was. When Hallie had told her how long Reid had been cowboying, she’d pictured a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a bushy handlebar mustache. She had not pictured a man no older than mid-thirties with just enough scruff and eye crinkles to look ruggedly sexy.
“Well, I hope it was all good,” he said.
“Good enough for me to know that you’re much more than a ranch hand.”
He blushed. He actually blushed. Who was this man? And please, God, make him single.
“Good mornin’, Reid!” Hallie stepped out the door. “I see you’ve met my little sister.”
“We just met.” Noelle shot Hallie a why-didn’t-you-tell-me-about-hiring-a-hot-cowboy look. Hallie read it perfectly because she grinned widely and thumped Noelle on the arm.
“You’re welcome.” She looked at Reid. “You ready to head to Austin and pick out a bull? I thought we’d stop off and get some muffins first.”
“Muffins!” Noelle exclaimed as she raced to her car.
Thankfully, she had enough muffins left over from the day before to fill all the morning orders, including Hallie’s and Reid’s. Reid’s order made him even more appealing. He didn’t blink when he ordered a Red Velvet Valentine muffin with cute pink heart sprinkles covering the cream cheese frosting. Since red velvet was her favorite cake flavor, she couldn’t help feeling like it was a sign. After some careful prying, she discovered he was single and raising his teenage niece. Which was just another check in the wowza! column.
By the time he and Hallie left, Noelle had to wonder if maybe there was another reason fate had brought her home. A tall, dark, and handsome reason.
Around noon, customers slowed way down. So Noelle headed to the kitchen and started baking. She mixed up numerous batters of the most popular muffins. Since she had worked for Sheryl Ann during high school, she knew all the recipes by heart. In fact, she was probably the only one who knew them. Sheryl Ann was extremely secretive about her muffin recipes. It showed how much she trusted Noelle that she’d shared them with her. She had even asked her to come up with a new muffin recipe for the holiday season. Fa-La-La Fruitcake hadn’t sold well for the past few Christmases.
After putting the muffins into the commercial-sized oven, she walked into the pantry to see if she could find an ingredient that would be the perfect star of a holiday muffin. Ginger and cinnamon seemed too predictable. Molasses a little too strong. She wanted a muffin that made people think of happy holiday memories with each bite. She was still going through the spice rack when she glanced up and saw the artificial tree box and large storage container labeled Christmas decorations .
Decorating was something else Noelle had inherited from her mama. She had always loved decorating. Especially for Christmas. She didn’t hesitate to grab the stepladder so she could retrieve the boxed tree and large container.
She set the tree up in the corner of the window and then opened the container and pulled out the lights and decorations, which consisted of cute little glass ornaments of cakes, donuts, pies, and cupcakes covered in sparkly glitter. In between decorating, she waited on the occasional customer. Once she finished the tree, she decided to put the leftover garland and lights around the front windows.
Unfortunately, the windows were so tall she couldn’t reach the top even with the stepladder—just one of the many challenges of being five foot nothing. She was teetering on the ladder on her tiptoes with her arms stretched over her head when the bell on the door jingled and a deep voice sent a shiver through her body.
“Whatcha doin’, shorty?”
She whipped around so fast she lost her balance. Once again, she found herself being rescued by Casey Remington. Only this time, he didn’t catch her as much as break her fall. She fell straight into him and they both ended up on the floor—her on top and him on the bottom. It took a full minute to recover her senses. When she did, those senses seemed to be completely focused on one thing.
The man lying beneath her.
His masculine scent wrapped around her like a Yankee candle set ablaze and his muscles flexed beneath her from her breasts to the inside of her thighs cradling his lean hips. In the very center of those lean hips, she felt another muscle. An extremely impressive muscle that nudged the spot between her legs and woke it up with a zing that had her sucking in her breath and sitting straight up.
Which did nothing to help the situation. Now she was straddling that impressive muscle and causing even more zings to rocket through her. When her gaze snapped to Casey’s, it looked like he felt them too. His Grecian-ocean eyes held confusion and . . . a whole lot of heat. Heat that had her insides melting like a pat of butter on hot yeast rolls.
Before she could freak out—or do something really stupid like rub against his impressive hardness like a dog in heat—the bell jingled and both their gazes snapped to the door as Mrs. Stokes walked in. She didn’t even blink when she saw them. Almost as if she’d always known she’d walk in on such a scene.
Noelle quickly got to her feet and tried to act like she hadn’t just been straddling Casey Remington like her favorite rocking horse. It was difficult to do considering her body felt like a commercial cooktop set on high.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Stokes. What can I get you?”
Mrs. Stokes glanced at Casey, who was now standing with his cowboy hat shielding the part of him Noelle had been straddling. “I’d say ‘I’ll have what you’re having,’ but I’m too old to be rolling around on the floor. So just get me a Pumpkin Harvest muffin and hot tea with plenty of honey.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Noelle hurried to the counter to fill the order and was relieved when she turned back around after filling a cup with hot water to find Casey gone.
“Was it hot?”
Mrs. Stokes’s question pulled Noelle’s gaze away from the door and she tried to explain. “I’m afraid you got the wrong idea, Ms. Stokes. I fell off the ladder while putting up Christmas lights and Casey just happened to walk in and catch me—or not catch as much as break my fall. It was just an accident.”
Mrs. Stokes took the cup from her. “I was talking about the tea. Last time, the water was more lukewarm.”
“Oh . . . uh, yes, ma’am. I’m sure it’s hot.”
Mrs. Stokes nodded. “Good. I hate lukewarm anything. And just for the record. I never much believed in accidents. Just fate.” She sniffed. “I think something’s burning.”
“The muffins!” Noelle raced into the kitchen to discover all the muffins had burned.
She spent the rest of the day making more. By closing, she was exhausted and she still had her piecrust post to do. But she couldn’t let her followers down. So after making sure the front door was locked, she fixed her makeup, put on a cute apron with a Santa Claus print, and prepped the ingredients before she pulled her cellphone from her purse.
It was the first opportunity she’d had to look at it all day. She opened the social media app and then pulled up her profile page. The phone almost slipped from her fingers when she saw her number of followers.
Thirty-nine thousand five hundred and fifty-seven!
She glanced up at her profile picture to make sure she had the right page, then back at the number—a number that kept increasing even as she watched. Thirty-nine thousand five hundred and fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. Sixty. It got all the way to thirty-nine thousand six hundred before she realized what was happening.
“Holy crap! I’m trending.”
But how? And why?
As soon as she clicked on her notifications, she had her answer. She was tagged in a long line of posts—posts of the video she’d deleted. Or tried to delete. It looked like some of her followers had downloaded it and reposted. Those posts had been reposted until the video had gone viral with hashtags like #thecowboyandthebaker #bakinguparomance #lovescookingintheholidaykitchen #childhoodcrush #allIwantforchristmasisacowboyhero
“Oh my God.”
She had to fix this. She had to fix this now.
She quickly attached her cellphone to the tripod, smoothed her hair, and plastered on a smile before she tapped the live button that started the post.
“Hey, y’all. I promised I would get back to my mama’s piecrust recipe and here I am. But before we get started, I wanted to talk a little about my last post. I guess it sent everyone into a tizzy. But I wanted to let everyone know that—” Before she could finish the screen filled with an explosion of hearts and cowboy emojis and comments. She had so many she couldn’t read them fast enough, but she was still able to get the gist.
Everyone was thrilled she had found herself a new boyfriend.
And not just any boyfriend, but a cowboy hero who’d had a crush on her since kindergarten.
She sat there stunned, taking in all the comments and emoji love. She couldn’t help the flood of pure endorphins that enveloped her. As the youngest of six siblings, she’d always had to fight for attention—always had to fight to be seen and heard. But now she was seen and heard . . . and liked.
Liked a lot.
She felt like Sally Field after winning her second academy award, “ . . . you like me. Right now, you like me!” And she knew if she told her almost forty thousand followers the truth there was a good chance all their likes and love would be gone in a cotton-pickin’ minute. She didn’t want that to happen. Forty thousand was a seriously big number. She followed numerous social media chefs with lower numbers who had gotten paid sponsors. If she could get some sponsors, she might be able to make Holiday Kitchen her full-time job. She might even have the social media clout to get a cookbook on a bestsellers’ list, which would give her the money she needed to finance her own bakery.
And what would it hurt if she didn’t explain things? What would it hurt if she just played along for a little while? Just until she could win all her new followers over with her baking ability. Once she hooked them, she would simply say that she and Casey hadn’t worked out. Which was the truth. She and Casey would never work out. And it wasn’t like he didn’t owe her after all the teasing and bullying he’d done.
This was the perfect way to pay him back and do a little teasing of her own.
Looking directly into the camera, she smiled. “I just wanted to let y’all know that . . . I’m just in seventh heaven! I mean who wouldn’t be after a handsome cowboy sweeps you off your feet. I’d love to tell you more, but with Thanksgiving right around the corner, we need to get to that piecrust recipe. You can’t have a great Thanksgiving without pie!” She winked. “Or a hot cowboy hero.”