Page 18 of Finally Moore

And books…

“Told you,” Hannah leans over and whispers in my ear.

I frown at her. I get what she's saying, and if it were anyone else, I’d believe her. But this is Scott Moore, a member of the Moore family, and genuinely one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I have a hard time believing he’s doing this simply to get laid. I mean, I doubt he needs to work too hard to get girls in this town to spread their legs for him.

Then again, considering everything he’s done for me, sex is the least I could offer him in return. Right?

Chapter seven

Scott

Iusethecrookof my arm to wipe my brow as I continue to work the dough, pulling it towards me, then using the heels of my hands to push it down and outward. The feel of the gluten stretching and blending to perfection is mesmerizing. My muscles burn. This is batch number three of five.

Sure, I have industrial mixers with the ability to do this for me. But if my grandma, who was no more than a hundred pounds—nothing but flesh and bones—could make this many, kneading each one with her frail, boney fingers, then I need to suck it up and push forward. I’m the third generation of Moores to make this recipe, and I refuse to deviate with modern conveniences.

As I finish placing the mixture into the container and seal it, before setting it in the fridge to chill, my ear is pinched and I’m dragged off down the hall.

“Seriously, Tilly, clip your nails.” I swat at her hand but it’s no use. She just squeezes tighter.

She doesn’t stop until she’s pulled me into the back office, hers not mine. Since she does the bookkeeping for both of us and my skills are best used in the kitchen, it seemed silly to take the space for myself. I let my unused office go to Jax. That way, he could work from the shop if needed.

“Sit,” she orders as she shoves me into the nearby chair. She might be almost a foot shorter than me, but my sister can be scary when she’s mad. Tilly takes a seat in her office chair, clasps her hands together, and sucks in a deep breath before pinning me with her intimidating stare.

Fuck,what did I do now?

“Well, tell me,” she urges.

“Tell you what?” I glance around the room, looking for some hint of the conversation she thinks we’re having, but come up short.

“Scarlett, what did she say when you brought her breakfast?”

Leaning back, I tilt my head up to the ceiling and let out a sigh. It’s somewhere between being relieved and annoyed, leaning more towards the latter. I should have lied when she caught me sneaking out with my special delivery. Especially since it’s not something I usually do. Hell, I’m still not even sure why I did it. There was just something unnerving about her absence. Probably because she comes in like clockwork and it’s part of my daily routine.

“Thank you.” I shrug.

“And what else?”

I sit up and see Tilly scarfing down one of the caramel tins of popcorn the city delivers to all the businesses this time of the year. I think for a moment. “She saidoh.”

“Oh?” Tilly frowns. “Like as inoh my, how sweet of you?A swoonyoh?”

“No… it was more of a confusedohwith a sprinkle of annoyance.”

“Why would she be annoyed? Did you do something?”

“Yeah, I brought her breakfast.” Clearly my little sister has lost her mind. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have two more batches of Grandma’s Christmas rings that need tending to.”

“You did the thing, didn’t you?”

Hand on the doorknob, I stop in my tracks and drop my head in defeat, because I know I’m not getting out of this room until my sister is damn well happy. “What thing?”

“That nervous, self-deprecating thing you do.”

“I do not.”

“You do.” She shoves another handful of popcorn in her mouth. “I don’t think you even realize it.”

I collapse back into the chair and rub my temples, attempting to ease the headache I know is coming.

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