Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I can't be mad at that. If everything he has told me is on the up-and-up, then turnabout is fair play.
"Pierce Harte." I snort a laugh. Tinsley Harte does have a lovely ring to it.
"You're good?" His giant hands give my shoulder a light squeeze.
"Yeah, I'm good. I'll poke fun about your name later when there aren't a million cookies to decorate."
"Ahh." He takes an apron I hand to him.
"What's ahh?"
"That you'd be decorating the cookies. With your talent, I bet you'll be able to do it quickly and with perfection." I swear if I were a bird, I’d be preening my feathers right now at his compliment.
"I mean—" I give a small shrug. Why do I get all shy with him about things? It should annoy me, but a part of me enjoys it. Everything is so different when it comes to him. I tie my apron on.
Rosemary pops her head out of her office. "I have a station all set up for you. I'm on the phone with my accountant, and shit's messed up. So not the day for this." I can tell she's frazzled. "I bake. The only numbers I do are in measurements."
"What's the issue? Maybe I could help," Pierce interjects. I lift my brows.
"He knows numbers, or so I've been told," I tell Rosemary. "He's loaded, so he must be pretty good with them.”
"Okay, I'm desperate." She waves Pierce into her office. I go over to my station where all the cookies are laid out and the icing is ready. I'm only a couple cookies in when Rosemary comes out of her office, her eyes wide.
"What?"
"I guess the accountant fucked up. I was sure it was on me." She nods toward her office. "That man is snapping everyone into place," Rosemary says with a giant smile on her face. "I'm going to set up a display out front."
When she exits the kitchen, I step over to the office and hear Pierce laying into whomever is on the phone. His voice is sharp and commanding. He has a whole other demeanor and tone. It's hot as hell. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he used that tone on me. I need to knock it off and get back to work.
The more I learn about Pierce Harte, the more I realize I'm going to fall madly in love with him. I pray his name isn't a prophecy I need to worry about.
Chapter Twenty
PIERCE
Iwasn’t dreading tagging along with Tinsley today, but I also didn’t think I would enjoy it as much as I have. Even after I’d wrapped up things in Rosemary’s office, I tried to help decorate the cookies, and that was a freaking mess. Nonetheless, it was fun, and any time I get to spend with Tinsley doing everyday things is a plus.
Tinsley teased me the whole time and moved me over to dish duty pretty quickly, which wasn't bad either. She was still in range for me to talk to, and it was only baking pans and trays. Then we dropped off a few of the orders for Rosemary before swinging by the diner to grab food for a few people, dropping that off too.
We ended up at an older woman’s home where Tinsley caught up with her, keeping her company before we straightened up around her place. I was sent on a pharmacy and grocery run.
I have to admit that I never thought I’d enjoy doing these little tasks, but that’s exactly what I’ve done today. I’m sure most of it has to do with Tinsley, but I can’t deny that the small-town charm of New Hope has its grip on me.
We’re currently at the salon, where my girl has a few clients that booked appointments to get their nails done. Word spread about me helping at the bakery, and now I've been wrangled into the salon office. There isn't anything wrong with the books, but I was asked to check things over, which I'm glad I did.
This town is bursting at the seams. They need more room, not a freaking giant ski resort, but I see potential for the possibility of a small resort, and they need it and a few other things. I wonder if Hollis would send me over some of the cities' numbers.
"Can you get the door?" Tinsley asks from the table she's at while doing a third person's nails. I glance over to the door of the salon but don't see anyone there. That is until my eyes drop lower, and I see a cat.
"Is that the famous Mittens?" I ask as I open the door to let the fluffy cat enter.
"That's her. She can be dramatic."
"More dramatic than you?" I tease my wife.
"She gives me a run for my money." I love how easy the banter between Tinsley and me has become throughout the day. She seems to be warming up to the idea of me being her husband. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.