Batter Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls Book 1) (13 page)

Clutching her grandmother’s spoon, she closed her eyes and ran through the spell in her head.

Brandon grew impatient. “What’s she doing? Is this when the magic happens?”

“Shh . . . Geez, it’s not like you don’t know the outcome.” Abby pushed off the stool and went to check out the game score.

Minutes later, Emma opened her eyes and peered into the bowl. She broke out into laughter.

“What? Why are you laughing?” Brandon leaned over. “What’s so funny?”

Emma snatched the bowl from him, fighting to regain her composure. She wasn’t quite sure she should show him. It certainly wasn’t the name she’d expected to see.

Abby returned to the counter and stood next to Brandon, hands on her hips. “So, what’s the verdict? Did Caitlin’s name burn a hole in the bowl?”

“Not exactly.” Emma tilted it so they both could see. “It says ‘Abby.’”

J
ason waited
for his coffee to brew. He was the first one up. It was nice to be back in Buttermilk Falls. Stepping off the plane last night, he’d finally felt like he was home.

Home. Would this place be his home?

He hoped so. Now that he was officially unemployed, he didn’t know what his future held. The day after he visited Emily’s grave, he’d walked into the
Miami Herald
and quit. Tina wasn’t happy, far from it. Especially since he wasn’t giving the standard two weeks’ notice unless he could do it remotely. After trying to talk him out of it for an hour, his editor relented and gave him some contacts for some freelance gigs.

She told him to go find happiness. That’s exactly what he planned to do.

A few freelance jobs along with his savings would buy him time while he made some decisions. Correction—while he and Emma made some decisions. He hoped she would be part of this next chapter in his life.

Visiting Emily’s grave had brought not only closure but clarity. He finally realized he needed to say good-bye to her and the life they once had to move on. But it was more than that. For some reason, he felt he was on this new journey to discovering how fate and destiny could intertwine with logic and facts. Meeting Emma hadn’t been an accident. He was certain of it.

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out some creamer, inspecting the expiration date. He didn’t trust Brandon with expired groceries, thinking back to their grad school days as roommates. Pouring the cream and then sugar into his piping hot coffee, he thought about how he should approach Emma.

She was no doubt infuriated with him and had every right to be. He had bolted out of the bakeshop after seeing Emily’s name in the batter without so much as an explanation. Then, he’d written her that stupid note saying he’d be back in a week. She deserved more. At the very least, he could have told her he was leaving in person. It’s just that if he stared into those beautiful green eyes, he might not have left.

Peering out the front window, he noticed that Caitlin’s BMW wasn’t parked in the driveway. That’s strange. Something was up. He’d been surprised by Caitlin picking him up at the airport and not his buddy who had his rental car. Then Brandon came back to the cottage around midnight, barely saying two words to Jason before whisking Caitlin outside.

God, he hoped Brandon didn’t propose. Maybe his pal had come to his senses. Jason hadn’t been woken up by any post-engagement celebrating in his buddy’s bedroom.

“Hey, dude. I could use some coffee.” Brandon strolled in, wearing grey sweatpants and an old Rolling Stones T-shirt.

“Sure. Is Caitlin still sleeping?”

“She’s not here.”

Jason poured the hot coffee into a mug and handed it to Brandon. “Everything okay?”

Brandon shook his head. “We’re done.”

“Really?” Jason took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Me, too.” He grunted. “Best damn sex of my life, but the freakin’ batter didn’t predict that we had a future.”

Jason spit out his coffee in response to that last sentence. Was he hearing things? He set his mug down. “What did you say?”

“Your girlfriend’s batter. It didn’t spell out Caitlin’s name.”

“Wait. Start from the beginning. You went to Batter Up night?”

“Yeah. More like F’d Up night, if you ask me.”

“What happened?”

Brandon reached into the fruit bowl and pulled out a small teal box. “Not this.” He opened it, flashing an engagement ring still inside.

Jason gazed down at the small diamond. “You were really going to pop the question.”

“Yep.” Brandon closed the box and set it down.

“And Emma selected you to do the spell. How’d that happen?”

“Some guy chickened out, and I came up with the idea. I was going to take a picture of the batter and show it to Caitlin before I proposed. Chicks like that romantic soul mate stuff.”

“So, why didn’t you propose?”

“Aren’t you listening? Because the freakin’ cake mix didn’t spell her name out, that’s why.”

Jason leaned back. He felt bad for his friend, but his asking Caitlin to marry him had never been a good idea. The ink on Brandon’s divorce papers was barely dry. Jason cocked an interested eyebrow. “So, who did the batter spell out?”

“Abby.” Brandon shook his head.

“Emma’s cousin?” Jason chuckled. That was a surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish.” He reached down and adjusted himself. “I get your girlfriend’s annoying little sidekick.”

“Emma’s not my girlfriend yet, and Abby is actually very funny, and you can’t deny she’s pretty on the eyes.”

“Yeah. Whatever. She’s jailbait.”

“She’s twenty-five. I’d hardly call that illegal.”

Brandon stood. “Doesn’t matter. Not interested.” He reached down for his running shoes and put them on.

“Wait. You didn’t tell anyone about what you saw?”

His friend shrugged and looked away.

“Dammit, Brandon. Who did you tell?”

“I might have sent my editor a text.”

“What the hell.” Jason stood, hands fisted. He’d never wanted to hit his best friend, but right now he could deck him.

“What? You said you weren’t going to write the story. Man, what I saw last night is incomprehensible. Someone’s got to break it. So, you don’t want it for the
Miami Herald
. Why can’t my paper have a crack at it? Besides, it’ll probably make your gal one rich cookie. Visitors from miles will flock into the bakery. She’ll probably get a deal or a cooking show or something.”

Jason started to pace, rubbing his chin. He needed to fix this and protect Emma. He reached across the table for Brandon’s phone, setting it in front of his buddy. “Story’s a no-go. Call her right now.”

“And say what?”

Jason thought for a second. If Brandon said it was a hoax, that might intrigue his editor to have him investigate what was really going on at the Sugar Spoon. “Tell her, the
Miami Herald
is about to break the story.”

“When?”

“In two days.”

“Fine. I’ll call her at a decent time. It’s only six a.m. in L.A.”

“Thanks.” Jason sat back down.

“Whatever,” Brandon said, stripping off his shirt. “I’m going for a run.”

“Say hi to Abby.” Jason laughed sarcastically as his friend replied with his middle finger. He got up and leaned against the kitchen counter. That was a close call. Although, it probably was only a matter of time before another reporter came knocking, digging for the truth. What if Brandon’s editor demanded he write the story, or worse, assigned it to someone else?

”Maybe I should write it,” he mumbled but thought about it for a second. That wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. At least then he’d have control over both direction and angle. Should he expose Batter Up? He turned and peered out the side window that gave him a direct shot of Emma’s cottage.

He knew his answer, but Emma wasn’t going to like it.

E
mma watched
a shirtless Brandon run through the park and smirked. “Looks like your soul mate has nice form.” Her head cocked to the side in unison with Abby’s.

Abby’s head straightened. “Does he? I didn’t notice.”

Emma giggled. “Yeah, right.” She leaned back on the park bench and tugged her cousin’s shirt. “Come on, Abs. I’m only teasing you.”

“It’s not funny.” Abby looked up at the sky. “Lord, what did I ever do to deserve this? It’s the time I fibbed to get out of a speeding ticket, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think God holds a grudge for traffic violations. Plus, it could be another ‘Abby.’ We don’t really know.”

Abby’s sheepish expression said otherwise.

“Or do we?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “Did you try to cast the spell on yourself?”

Abby shook her head then nodded.

“When?” Emma had left early last night to see if Jason was home, but halfway to her cottage, she’d gotten cold feet and crashed at her mother’s. “After I left?”

“Yep, I couldn’t resist. I mean, everyone was gone, and I was all alone with the stupid spoon. It was just begging me to stir it.”

“And?”

She sighed. “I got a
B
. A freakin’
B
.”

“Wow.” Emma let out a slow breath but then waved her hand. “Well, that
B
could stand for anyone. Brad, Brian, Brick . . . Barry.”

Abby let out a shriek. “Stop right there. My soul mate is
not
named Barry.”

“Fine. Not Barry, but it doesn’t mean Brandon’s the one.”

“Emma, it’s like Jason all over again when I could only cast a
J
.” She buried her head in her hands. “What did I ever do to get a jerk as a soul mate?”

Emma put her arm around her cousin, giving a supportive squeeze. “Well, think of it this way: If Caitlin’s interested in Brandon, he’s got to be great in bed.”

Abby jabbed Emma’s ribs. “Thanks for the visual.” She smiled and nodded. “Looks like you have a visitor.” She stood. “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey, Abby.” Jason approached. “Hear you and my best friend might be hanging out soon.”

“Doubt it.” She wiggled her nose. “See you at the bakery, Emma.” Not waiting for a reply, she walked away.

Emma watched her cousin.
Interesting.
Abby would never get to the bakery on time because that was the wrong direction. Guess her cousin did like Brandon’s form after all. “Hey, Abby, the Sugar Spoon is that way,” she called out and pointed in the right direction.

Abby threw her hands in the air all flustered. “I knew that.” She huffed away, now toward the Sugar Spoon.

“Did I miss something?” Jason asked Emma.

“Just giving her a hard time. I’m sure Brandon’s shared the news with you.”

“Yep. I heard that last night was a shock to all parties involved.” He pointed to the bench. “Is this seat taken?”

Emma shrugged off the undeniable quiver traveling through her body.

He sat down, keeping a healthy distance between them. “It’s good to see you.” He pointed to the plastic cup in her hand. “See you have your coffee.”

She hoisted it up. “Breakfast of champions.” They sat for a few seconds in awkward silence. Emma didn’t have a clue what to say to him, although it wasn’t because there weren’t a hundred questions swirling about in her head.
Why did you walk out that night at the Sugar Spoon? Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Who is Emily?
Emma didn’t know which answer to the last question would be worse to hear: Emily was a woman from his past or someone he hadn’t even met yet.

She settled for an easier question. “When did you get back?”

“Late last night.” He smiled, bringing out the dimples. God, she’d missed those sexy indents.

“Did you have a nice flight?”

“Yes, a little turbulent. You know me with heights.” He rested his arm along the bench. “Emma, I want to tell you about Emily.”

She looked down at her hands. So he did know the Emily in question. Was she ready to hear this? “Okay,” she said, trying not to sound apprehensive. “I’m listening.”

“She was my fiancée.”

“Oh.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Was?”

“She died. Three years ago last April. She was gunned down by a really terrible man seeking revenge after she testified in his son’s criminal case.”

Emma’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh my God, Jason, I’m so sorry.”

He looked straight ahead. Emma watched his face transform to anger.

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. Son of a bitch. I would have given anything to have been the one sitting in the driver’s seat and taken that bullet. My head, not hers.”

Emma reached for his hand, wanting to comfort him. Her words were trapped in her throat. She held on, and they sat in silence.

What an idiot she’d been. While she had stewed all week, licking her wounds, Jason was reeling in unimaginable grief exacerbated by what he saw in the batter.

He finally broke the silence. “Emma, I should have told you everything that night you cast the spell. It’s just I didn’t know how and then—”

“Emily spoke,” she whispered.

“Did that really happen?” His blue eyes seemed to be searching hers for confirmation. Was it hope he was clinging to?

Emma nodded. “I’ve never communed with the dead. It was definitely a first for me.”

“I went to her grave.” He let go of her hand. “That’s why I went back to Miami. I hadn’t been back to see her since we buried her. I’d never said good-bye.”

“That must have been hard,” Emma replied. Her soft words tried to offer her sincere condolences and support. She was starting to see just how broken Jason was.

“It was,” he agreed and hung his head. “I should have done it years ago.”

Emma’s heart hurt for him. It was obvious he’d carried around this guilt and pain all these years. She wanted to help, but how? “Do you want to come with me to the bakery? Maybe have some breakfast?” she asked. “We could talk. I’d love to hear more about Emily.”

He glanced down at his watch. “I’d love to, but I’m on deadline. Can we maybe grab dinner tonight?”

“I’d like that.” She squeezed his hand. “A lot.”

He squeezed back and then let go. “We need to make plans for the Final Fling.”

She laughed at his reference to the event. “I’d forgotten about that.” Tomorrow night’s event at the fairgrounds was an annual tradition.

All the couples were invited. Actually, most of the town would be there. It was always a blast with good food, music, and dancing all night. The charity that benefited from the auction would give a short update on what they’d done with the money raised. It was also the unofficial end to summer.

Jason stood and said good-bye. Emma let out a slow breath and watched him exit the park. His body hunched over and his stride less than confident. It tore her apart to see him in so much pain. What a tragic and senseless loss he’d experienced. From what she just witnessed, he was still going through it.

She sipped her coffee, trying to process all she’d learned. One thing was for sure. Jason’s deceased fiancée had found a way to come back to him through Emma’s spell. Would he be able to let Emily go?