Page 17 of A Tempting Seduction

“Harvey, I promise you, it's nothing scandalous. I'm just helping someone out, and they'd prefer to keep it private for now.”

Harvey studied my face for a long moment, then shrugged. “All right, I'll bite. But if this turns into one of those situations where the whole town finds out anyway, don't come crying to me when Florence Horton starts spreading rumors about your secret love child.”

My stomach dropped. “Secret love child? Harvey, that's not...oh goodness. Is that what people are going to think?”

“Depends how long you keep carrying that diaper bag around without an explanation. Now, I’m a man. All of us men have figured out what you’ve been packing underneath those flannel shirts of yours, and it ain’t a pregnancy. No sir, it’s some mighty fine curves. But the ladies might take two plus two and come up with forty-seven if you have that diaper bag. After all, you did take a vacation three weeks ago. Anything could have happened.”

“I went camping for five days! I like the solitude. Everybody knows that.”

“You won’t have to be convincing me, I told you, I can add to four.”

I closed my eyes and counted to five. “It's not a secret love child. It's babysitting. For someone who needs a favor and doesn't want the whole dang town knowing their business.”

“Fair enough.” Harvey pushed off from his truck. “But Ruby? If you need any help, you just holler. This town looks after its own.”

Warmth spread through my chest despite my frustration. “Thanks, Harvey. I appreciate that.”

He tipped his cap and headed toward Draper Hardware across the street, leaving me to juggle my packages and my racing pulse as I made my way to Java Jolt's back entrance.

The smell of fresh coffee and vanilla hit me the moment I unlocked the door. I'd started coming in an extra thirty minutes early since my promotion to manager, partly to prep the espresso machine and partly to steal a few minutes of quiet before the chaos began. This morning, the silence felt like a gift.

I went to my office and hid the diaper bag and gift bag behind a stack of mugs and t-shirts that still needed to be unboxed. The present inside was a rose inside a glass dome that was supposed to never die. It was a vibrant pink, and I had a card to go with it telling Fiona how strong she was.

Because, dang it, she was strong!

Fiona Larson, the youngest of the five Larson children, had been through enough hell to last three lifetimes. Her ex-husband had been one of those men who made you feel stupid for breathing while simultaneously convincing you that you were lucky to have someone willing to put up with you. He could get a PhD in gaslighting. According to her sister, Carrie, by the time Fiona finally worked up the courage to leave, she'd been a shadow of the vibrant woman who'd graduated valedictorian from Jasper Creek High School.

One year of living with her parents and slowly rebuilding her confidence had helped, but Fiona still flinched when men raised their voices, and she apologized for things that weren't her fault. Landing a job at the new fitness center in Pigeon Forge would be huge for her. Not just for the paycheck, but for the proof that she could stand on her own two feet.

And if she doesn't get it, I'm driving to Pigeon Forge to have a very strong conversation with their hiring manager.

Espresso machine warmed up and the register counted down, I just needed the fresh pastries to be delivered. By the time Jordan slouched through the back door, I had everything ready except my patience.

“Morning,” he mumbled, not making eye contact as he tied his apron around his waist.

“You're right on time.” Which was the nicest way I could say that he'd arrived at exactly the moment his shift started and not a second earlier, which for some reason, really annoyed the heck out of me. He did the same thing every morning. Then when it was time to leave, he made sure he was at the punch clock at one-twenty-nine with his timecard hovering over the machine for the clock to click over to one-thirty, just waiting to push in his card so he could leave.

Jordan shrugged and moved toward the espresso machine like he was walking through molasses. The boy/man had skills when he wanted to use them, but his attitude had gotten progressively worse since I'd been promoted over him. Part of me understood his frustration. He'd been working at Java Jolt longer than I had, and he'd expected to move up when the previous manager quit. But being passed over didn't give him the right to sulk like a hormonal teenager. I walked up front and turned over the sign to open, then went back behind the register.

“We've got a busy morning ahead,” I said, checking the calendar on my phone. “Tuesday's always good for business, and I passed three contractors' trucks on the way into town.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Fantastic. One of those mornings.

The cowbell above the door clanged, and I looked up to see Bernie Faulks and Florence Horton walking in together. Florence's purple hair gleamed under the morning light, teased into its usual football helmet style, while Bernie moved with the careful gait of a man who was still recovering from something…I think it was gout.

“Well, if it isn't our favorite coffee girl,” Florence called out, her voice carrying enough volume to wake half the county. “How are you this fine Tuesday morning, Ruby dear?”

“I'm doing great, Florence. The usual for you?”

“You know it, Ruby. Large coffee with enough cream to make it look like a vanilla milkshake, and two sugars. Bernie here will want to hear about today's special.”

Bernie approached the counter with a slow smile. I was sure he was a heartbreaker in his day. “Morning, Ruby. What've you got that's new and interesting today?”

I grinned, knowing exactly what would appeal to his adventurous palate. “I've been experimenting with a maple bourbon latte. Real maple syrup, just a hint of bourbon flavoring, and a touch of cinnamon. It tastes like breakfast with a kick.”

Bernie's eyes lit up. “Now that sounds like my kind of drink. I'll take a large.”