Beautifully Broken Pieces (Sutter Lake, #1)(6)



“Family recipe. I’d share it with you, but state secrets…” Jensen said with a wink.

I twisted the straw in my cup. “It wouldn’t do me any good even if you did share it.” Jensen’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m a horrible cook. I’m more likely to burn my kitchen down than successfully make cookies. So, I’m really hoping that’s not part of the job.” Carter attempted to cover her giggle with a cough.

Jensen did nothing to disguise her laugh. “It’s not. I’ve got a gal. Tessa,”—she gestured to someone I could just make out through the open kitchen door—“who’s a gem with all the baked goods and drinks. I’m just looking for someone to man the front of the shop a few days a week. I can only offer you part-time right now.”

“Part-time is perfect. Exactly what I’m looking for.”

Jensen eyed me carefully. “Do you have any waitressing experience? Know how to run a cash register and credit card machine?”

“I do. I waitressed for two years of high school and all through college. It’s been a minute since I’ve run a register, but I’m sure it’ll come back.”

“That’s great.” Her eyes seemed to search deeper, and I wondered what she was looking for. “So, what brought you to Oregon?”

I did my best to keep my face a neutral mask. “I was just ready for a change of scenery. I was sick of all the pollution and traffic in Houston.”

Jensen seemed to take that in, but I wasn’t quite sure she bought it. “Is that where you lived before?”

“Yup. Houston and Los Angeles.”

“This is a big change of pace. Small town. Not a lot going on.”

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for, a little peace and quiet.”

A grin pulled at Jensen’s mouth. “Well, you’ll definitely get that here. Where are you staying?”

I hoped Jensen’s expression meant that this weirdly informal interview was going well. “We’re at one of the rental houses out on Spruce Valley Road, but I’m looking for a place to rent longer-term.”

Jensen rubbed a thumb across her lower lip, seeming to consider something. “My parents have a place they might be willing to rent to you. We have a ranch about ten miles outside of town, and there’s a little guest cabin that barely gets used. It’s not close to the main house, so it’s pretty isolated. You’d obviously need a car.”

I straightened in my chair. Isolated was just what I was looking for. I could practically feel my body relax at the idea of some true alone time for the first time in forever. “That sounds perfect.”

Jensen’s grin widened. “I’ll give my mom a call right now and get you a new employee form to fill out.”

“I’m hired?”

“You’re hired.”

This time, I was the one grinning. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back after I talk to my mom.”

As Jensen walked away from the table, I turned to face Carter. “That was amazing, right? Like this is all meant to be.”

Carter had a very forced smile on her face. “It’s great, Tay.”

“See, everything’s going to be just fine.” I just hoped I wouldn’t be made a liar.





4





Walker





The sun shone down on the rolling fields around me, a truly perfect spring morning. My boots kicked up just a bit of dust as I walked up to my parents’ ranch house. My stomach growled. While I had my own place on our ten-thousand-acre spread and could technically feed myself, I never passed up the chance to sit down at one of my mother’s epic breakfast spreads.

I pushed open the front door without knocking. The sounds of dishes clattering and voices chattering came from the kitchen, so I headed in that direction. My nephew, Noah, raced around the island with his toy airplane, making what sounded like a cross between a “vrooooooom” and a “whooooooosh.”

“Hi, Uncle Walker,” he called as he whizzed past me.

I bent, kissing my mom’s cheek as she stood at the stove. “Morning, Ma.”

“Good morning, my handsome baby,” she answered, just as she flipped a pancake on the griddle. The perfect shade of golden brown.

“You’re the reason the boy has such an ego, Sarah. It’s no wonder he hasn’t settled down,” my grandmother said with a good-natured harrumph.

My mother giggled. She was in her late sixties, and she still laughed like a schoolgirl. I think a large part of that was due to the fact that my father still made her feel as if she were in high school with her first real crush. “How’s my girl?” my dad asked, dipping to brush his lips against my mom’s.

“Get a room, you two,” my sister, Jensen, called from the dining table.

My mom shuffled the last of the pancakes onto a platter. “Everyone grab a seat.”

We all hurried to our chairs, my dad plucking the platter from my mom’s hands. He never let her do any heavy-lifting if he was around. “Thank you, Andrew,” my mom said as she kissed his cheek.

Conversation flowed, each of us discussing our plans for the day and the latest town news. As we finished up, my mom inclined her head towards me. “Walker, would you mind running something out to the Harris’s rental place on Spruce Valley?”

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