His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) by Terri Osburn Page A

your store yesterday, I noticed that you don’t sell any food items, and that might be by design, but you did suggest I fill a void and that’s what I’m offering to do. Three days a week I could supply you with fresh, homemade sweets, including a variety of cookies, brownies, cupcakes, and breads. And I can come back at closing time and take whatever hasn’t sold so you don’t have to deal with it.”
    Her potential distributor tapped a manicured fingernail on the counter. “You’re right. I did say fill a void, and that’s something I don’t have.” Glancing around the shop, she added, “I’ve never thought about selling anything edible, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work. I’d have to try some samples before saying yes, though.”
    “That can be arranged,” Lorelei replied, her mind already running through which cookies to make. But she knew if this was going to work, she had to be up front with Snow about the need for anonymity. “There would be one requirement.”
    “What’s that?”
    “No one can know where the desserts come from,” she said in a rush.
    If anything was going to blow this deal, that was it. But Lorelei believed with all her being that if anyone knew she would profit from the baked goods, not a crumb would be sold. She needed to make money from this, especially since she didn’t have a plan B. Heck, this
was
plan B.
    “An odd request,” Snow said with eyes narrowed, “but I’ve heard enough around town to understand why you wouldn’t want folks to know it’s you.”
    That was good
and
bad. “You’re still willing to give me a chance? Even knowing my reputation?” Lorelei asked.
    “Anyone who can tell an entire town to go to hell and then have the nerve to come back to it deserves a chance in my book.”
    Good to know the rumors were at least accurate.
    “Miss Cameron,” Lorelei said, extending her hand, “this might be the start of a very profitable friendship.”
    “If your cookies taste anything like your grandmother’s, I’m sure it will be.”

Chapter 8
    Spencer tried to ignore Lorelei’s fidgeting, but she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, which caused her tight skirt to drift higher and higher up her thighs. If she kept it up, he’d kill them both due to failure to keep his eyes on the road.
    “You need to relax,” he said, his own body anything but. They were on their way to a Ruby Restoration meeting. The combination of his awakened libido and concern for how Lorelei would be received coiled Spencer’s nerves tighter than the draw on a hunting bow.
    “This isn’t a good idea,” she said for the fourth time in the last hour. “None of these people are going to want me on this project.”
    Her continued lack of confidence plagued Spencer. Lorelei had always been bold and brash, uncaring of what anyone thought. Now she was the total opposite. He’d go so far as to call her fragile. She’d fretted over the cookie samples for Snow, frustration and doubt causing her to burn the first batch. Then she’d declared the second not good enough and started over again.
    This was not his Lorelei. Something she’d told him, but he didn’t believe it until now.
    “You were worried about the bake sale last Sunday, and that went well,” he reminded her. “Give them a chance.”
    “A chance to chew me up and spit me out.”
    Spencer pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant and slammed the truck into park. “Where is this coming from?” he asked, turning in his seat. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Lorelei Pratchett who barreled through life on her own terms and to hell with everybody else.”
    Instead of meeting his anger with her own, Lorelei’s eyes dropped to her lap. “That Lorelei got kicked enough times to change her attitude.”
    “Well, change it back.”
    She turned on him then. “If you think I like what I’ve become, you’re wrong. But you take enough hits and it gets harder to get back up. I’m doing the best I