Page 24 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“That means you definitely should.” She grinned. “Honey-cross buns.”

“Dear God.” My stomach grumbled loudly.

Dre laughed. “That’s a definite yes. On the house. Just let me know if you like them the next time you see me.”

“Will do. I’ll take four tarts too.” I rattled off the kinds I knew my family would enjoy, and we talked about the mundane things of life for a few minutes.

By the time I got to the register, my mood had lifted even more. I wasn’t sure if meeting Dexter Shaw would turn out to be the score it seemed to be right now, but there would be delicious pastries in my future regardless.

I slipped a ten into her tip jar while her back was turned to tie up the yellow boxes imprinted with her logo.

“I’ll definitely let you know about the buns. I’m not sure they’ll make it to my parents’ house.”

She slid the box toward me. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Bad for my hips, but worth it.”

“Girl, you don’t have hips. I don’t want to hear it.” She slapped her own hips, which were lush in all the right ways.

“With the way these smell, your goddess designation fits those curves.”

She plucked a cookie out of the small display near the register and wrapped it in wax paper with little honey bees on it. “You definitely deserve a cookie for that one.”

I took it with a laugh. I could never resist chocolate chip cookies. “Thanks for the pick-me-up.”

“Same. See ya around, Shelby.”

I smiled at her and backed out of the door with my bounty, my step remarkably lighter. Juggling my boxes, I unlocked my Subaru Forester and stacked my food on the passenger seat. I grinned at the unicorn tucked under the seat and plopped it on top.

Berry would be looking for that near bedtime. It was one of the few things she had to have with her all the time. The universe was letting me have yet another win today. That would have been a long night of crying if I hadn’t found it.

It was a nice evening, so I rolled down my window and cranked up my radio before I shamelessly ate my cookie before dinner. I sang along to a Britney anthem of my youth as I made my way out of Kensington Square, past Crescent Cove and into Turnbull, where my folks lived.

The sun was flickering through the big oak’s leaves beside the house. I parked behind my mom’s sturdy Ford Bronco and my heart turned over as Berry and her lopsided auburn pigtails came flying at me from around the back of the house.

“Mama! I thought you weren’t going to be late.”

I climbed out and braced myself for contact as she slammed into my body, wrapping her arms around my waist. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Me too, sweetie. But it took longer than expected to go through my client’s house. It’s really big. So, here I am.”

“Yay!”

“I have treats too.”

She wrinkled her freckled nose as she looked up at me. “It’s not yogurt or something, is it?”

I laughed. I supposed I had been a little heavy-handed on the healthy treats recently. “Definitely not yogurt.”

“Excellent!” She pushed away from me and took off for the back of the house.

I shook my head and grabbed my boxes before following her. The lush grass teased my ankles and my mother’s favorite pansies were on display along the side of the house. She always said she planted them because she couldn’t kill them, but I knew better.

My mom had the greenest thumb of anyone I knew. I’d inherited it, thankfully, even if my garden was much smaller on the postage stamp we called a backyard of my old cottage. I heard the laughter before I got to the backyard. My dad had an armful of Berry while she excitedly told him we had treats.

My dad’s dark eyes shone, both for his granddaughter and the treats.

The screen door slapped as my mom came out. “What’s all the commotion?” She spotted me and my boxes. “Oh, what did you bring us?” She took the boxes and put them on the well-worn picnic table, then she gave me a quick hug, as was her practice. Her scent of lilacs settled me that last little bit.

I hugged her back tighter.

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