Page 12 of Keeping My Wife
She laughed. “It’s my sourdough starter.” She whipped a towel off a loaf of bread with an intricate leaf pattern baked into the crusty top. “I wanted to do a little something extra for you since you went above and beyond for me.”
“It smells amazing.”
She pushed a gift bag in front of me. “Special olive oil and balsamic as well as some sharp cheese and grapes. Hopefully you can take this to someone special for a date night.”
I peered into the bag. “You shouldn’t have.”
She waved me away. “You deserve it.” She pulled out a waxed bag with little bees on it and tucked the bread inside. “There now.”
“I appreciate this Mrs. Nelson. I know just who I’ll share it with.”
“Wonderful!” She squeezed my upper arm. “Hope she’s special.”
“She is. Thanks for this.” I took both bags. “If you have any trouble with the shelves just text or email me.”
“I will.”
I ran into Sully in the hall on the way out. Sully held back to give her the last invoice then followed me out the door. “So, who are you sharing your bounty with?”
“It could be you.”
“Not with that smirk on your face.”
I laughed. “None of your business, bro.”
“I thought you didn’t have time to date.”
“Who says it’s a date?”
Sully hopped in his truck. “Suspicious.”
I got in on the passenger side with my booty. “You’re just jealous. You want my sourdough bread.”
“I do, actually. It would win me big points with Nora.”
“Then you should have stopped at Sweet Beat.”
“Asshole.”
I grinned as I clipped my seatbelt. We spoke about the next week and hashed out the supply list for the next few jobs as he drove back to the warehouse. I was tempted to mention the Delacroix house, but decided I needed to check in with Maxie first.
I wasn’t entirely sure she’d been serious about her proposal. Maybe sleeping on it changed her mind.
I dumped the leftover lumber in the buckets for our scrap piles then left my approved order with Lexi for the following week.
After a pitstop in the locker room to shower off the sweat and change, I jumped in my truck and wound my way up Hope Street toward the mansion. In my haste for a nonchalant exit last night, I hadn’t gotten Maxie’s number.
Hopefully she’d be into a little impromptu date.
I probably shouldn’t think about it that way, but if we needed to sell a marriage, we probably needed to get to know one another.
Yeah, that’s why you’re going.
I flipped down my visor and winced at my near beard. I usually kept it pretty trim and tight, but I’d been light on sleep. I shoved a hand through my messy hair. I didn’t need to impress her for fuck’s sake.
I grabbed the food and headed up the walkway.
There was only one car parked in the drive. It was a sweet vintage Range Rover in a deep hunter green. I followed the walkway to the front porch and rang the bell.
