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It wasn’t for his lack of trying. Cash was persistent, but Reese was quick on her feet and able to find something that needed her attention. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up. Her little house was cleaner than it had ever been. All of the cupboards were cleaned and organized, the kitchen spices were alphabetized, and her job search continued as she expertly evaded him. She knew her time was running out.
“Hello,” Reese switched off the vacuum to hear the person on the other end of the phone.
Today was the first time she wished for caller ID. That feature was an extra expense, and additional expenses were not in the budget. If they were, knowing who was calling before she picked up the phone would be her first investment.
“Hello, is this Reese Carter?” A sweet older woman asked, drawing her attention back to the call.
“Yes,” she replied cautiously. At least it was a woman. There was no way a man like Cash could pull off sounding like a woman.
“This is Birdie McCuhne. I own the bakery. My granddaughter told me you dropped by because you were looking for a job.”
“Yes, Ms. McCuhne, I stopped by looking for a job. Are you by any chance hiring?”
“I can’t say I was looking but, I’m not getting any younger. I suppose now is as good a time as any to start training the next generation. My granddaughter, unfortunately, was not blessed with the baking gene. The poor girl wasn’t even blessed with the boiling water gene. I have given it some thought, and I want to talk with you if you are still available.”
Reese spun around the kitchen doing a happy dance. “I can be available whenever you are free.”
“Well, I have a bit of an odd request,” the older woman hesitated.
“Okay,” Reese’s happy dance came to a screeching halt.
“I have hired before based on a resume, and it didn’t work out. If you are interested, I would like you to bake me something and bring it with you for an interview. I know it is unconventional, but I have been burned too many times to rely on what a piece of paper tells me. Does this sound like something you would be interested in?”
Reese paused. The woman’s request was kind of odd, but she could understand her point. Just because someone listed baking abilities on their resume didn’t mean they could produce something bakery case worthy. “What do you want me to bake?”
“Baker’s choice,” Birdie’s voice was light. “Would tomorrow be a good time for you?”
“Tomorrow is great,” Reese happily sighed as she wrote down the details for her interview and ended the call. The happy dance started up again as she finished vacuuming the already clean floor.
Her dance continued as she got out every cookbook and recipe box she owned. Reese had quite a few because it was one thing she had been able to pick up cheap at yard sales and thrift stores. She always wanted to try new things, so buying books was an inexpensive way to do it.
Recipes and cookbooks surrounded her at the kitchen table when the sound of boots coming in the back door drew her attention. Mav smiled as he came rushing through the back door, talking a mile a minute to the man she had been avoiding all week. Cash held pizza boxes, but his attention stayed focused on what Mav said.
“Where is Pappy?” Reese asked when Mav stopped for a breath.
“He has a date tonight,” Mav replied.
“What? Pappy has a date?”
“Yeah,” Mav looked at her curiously before stripping off his grease-covered clothes in the middle of the kitchen. “Some lady who brought her car in to get the oil changed today. They are having dinner at Cash’s house tonight.”
“I guess we are having pizza,” Reese said stupidly, reeling from the news.
Cash stood studying her, drinking in every detail. He happily agreed to let Oliver wine and dine his new lady across the street. Reese wouldn’t be too busy or whatever excuse she thought up tonight not to see him. It was a win for both men.
“I told him he could use my house. They are cooking whatever he bought at the store. He can cook, right? I wouldn’t want him burning down my place trying to get some tail.”
“Eww,” Mav gagged. “I do not need that mental picture. Pappy and some old chick banging on your kitchen counter isn’t something I want to see. Ever.”
“Mav,” Reese scolded, trying to hide her smile.
“As long as no one breaks a hip, I don’t care where he nails her,” Cash grinned.
Mav grumbled as he gathered his discarded clothes, dumping them in the laundry room before thumping up the stairs to shower.
Reese noticed Cash was already wearing clean clothes. He must have stopped at home first. She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him.
“Is Pappy really cooking dinner for a woman at your place?”
