The Farmer & The Belle (Baymoor Book 1) Page 3

  “You are the most contentious, ornery person I’ve ever met,” Eliza replied in exasperation. “Not your home? Are you kidding me right now? You lived there for ten years with the only people who ever gave a damn about any of us-”

  “Could you pretty please with sugar, chocolate sauce, whip cream and a cherry on top put Camille on the phone?” Georgina interrupted her sister with such saccharine sweetness; she gave herself an instant cavity. “I haven’t spoken to her in ages.”

  There was a pause on the other end before Eliza sighed, “You’re such a pain in my ass, but I love you, Georgina Marie Carlton. Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble.”

  “OMG, you act like I go looking for crap to get into. I promise you, it isn’t even like that,” Georgina said crossly before continuing in a gentler tone, “But I love you too, Eliza Isabel Rossini, and I want you to have a great time on the cruise. You totally deserve it. I know things haven’t been easy for you since Davey passed away, so please try to have a good time.”

  “Thank you, G,” Eliza replied quietly, and Georgina knew she was thinking of her husband who’d died of a brain aneurysm a year ago. As far as men went, there were only three that Georgina had ever respected enough to trust: her Uncle Nate, her brother Graham, and her late brother-in-law, David or Davey as she liked to call him. Even before he married Eliza, David had proved himself worthy of loyalty and trust to the Carlton siblings. He was their knight in shining armor who’d rescued them from purgatory.

  No one, absolutely no one could say anything bad about Davey to Georgina. Her siblings had often teased her that David could shoot someone right in front of her and Georgina would want to know what that person did to piss her Davey off so badly. She remembered him long ago, taking her out for ice cream before she left for her “new and improved” life in Maryland. As Georgina ate her cookie dough ice cream, David slipped her a business card with all of his phone numbers on it.

  Gently, he told Georgina that while he was sure that her aunt and uncle were very nice people, if she ever found herself in a similar situation as her previous one or worse; she was to call him and he would come. No matter where or what he was doing, if she needed him, he would be there. Wide-eyed, Georgina nodded her head in understanding and wondered, not for the first time, how exactly did his cape fit underneath his business suits?

  “So are you there yet?” Eliza’s words broke her out of her reverie. “I wanted to talk to Nate and Val before I left, but I was trying to give them time to get used to seeing their precious baby girl again.”

  “Not quite, but I’ll be reaching town in the next fifteen minutes,” Georgina murmured and was surprised to find herself feeling a little apprehensive. When she left Baymoor, she’d cut off all contact with everyone except her family. For a while, her friends made attempts to reach out to her, but Georgina wanting no reminders of ever having been there, rebuffed all attempts, and soon contact ceased altogether. She never inquired about anyone when she spoke with her aunt and uncle, and they never volunteered any information.

  “Okay well here’s Camille. Have a good time and try to loosen up, Little Bit. Love you!” Eliza said.

  “Dammit, I am loose!” Georgina muttered to herself, irritated that everyone kept implying she wasn’t. Her mood changed when she heard her niece’s sweet voice.

  “Hi, Auntie G!” Camille’s soft voice filled her ear and for the first time that day, Georgina felt like everything was right in her world. The stress of worrying about Uncle Nate, increasing her business finances, and being stuck in godforsaken Baymoor faded away as Georgina lowered her guard and allowed her restless nature to be soothed by Camille’s loving personality.

  Eight-year-old Camille was David and Eliza’s only child, and the most perfect human being ever created in Georgina’s opinion. From day one of her arrival, the entire family spoiled her, and through it all Camille remained pure, and as Aunt Valerie was fond of saying, an ‘old soul’. She reminded Georgina of that Manny Delgado character from the sitcom Modern Family.

  “Hi, sweetheart, how are you? I miss you so much! Are you ready for the cruise?” Georgina asked and was rewarded with a big sigh on the other end of the phone.

  “I’m doing really well, except for the fact that Mom won’t let me participate in the canasta and bridge events on the cruise. Then I told her I want to do the Macramé workshop, but I’m not allowed to repeat the words she used when I said that,” Camille said gloomily.

  Macramé? Really? Georgina bit back a laugh, “Sweetie, how long has it been since your nanny retired?”

  Sixty-five-year-old Doreen McGuire had been Camille’s nanny since she was a year old. She was a loud, boisterous Bostonian with a fondness for card games that was only exceeded by a love of all things macramé. She wore her dyed black hair in big Dolly Parton curls and cat’s eye glasses that she’d bedazzled herself.

  When Georgina first met her, she wondered how her elegant sister and her equally elegant husband had ever moved in the same circle as the tight clothes and stilettos wearing woman, but Eliza simply shrugged and said that she was perfect for Camille. And she was. Exceedingly so. Despite her outlandish appearance, Irene was a retired headmistress from a prestigious school in Beacon Hill. She taught Camille how to speak Spanish and Chinese, the proper use of the English language, and proper posture. And unfortunately, all her favorite card games and macramé, which drove Eliza crazy.

  “Mrs. McGuire retired last year to Florida and since she left, I haven’t indulged in a decent game of pinochle,” Camille said with sadness. “I tried to teach the kids at my school, but they’re only interested in silly things like American Girl and Skylanders.”

  “Because that’s what kids your age are supposed to be interested in, babygirl,” Georgina said gently. “Maybe they’re not cool enough to have nannies who teach them card games like the ones you like, but I bet it works both ways. You could probably learn something from them as well.”

  Her phone beeped again and she glanced down, surprised to see her former employer’s number flashing. “Hey, Camille, I have to go, but please give your mom a big hug and kiss for me. I want you guys to have lots of fun on your cruise. I love you, babygirl!”

  “I love you lots, Aunt Georgie. Kiss Gigi and Papa for me. And don’t forget to have fun!”

  Georgina sighed morosely, “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

  ***

  Maxwell Hayes, proprietor of Cinnamon Farms, sat at the head of the long conference table, silently observing the tray that had been placed in front of him. He could feel the eyes of his eight employees watching him like a hawk, but refused to acknowledge them just yet. Today was a big day for them. Six months ago he’d told his preservationist department that he wanted new flavors added to their condiment collection. Max warned them that they needed to BRING IT, and up until last night, they’d been hard at work in their eagerness to please and ambition to get ahead. The stakes were too high for them not to succeed. Before him spread like a feast were the results of their hard labor. He read the names on the five small mason jars: Strawberry Balsamic Chipotle Preserves, Peach and Red Onion Chutney, Apple Sauerkraut, Hot Bourbon Honey Butter, and Ramp Pesto.

  The air in the room was rife with tension as he picked up a spoon and dipped it into the strawberry preserves jar, scooping up a healthy amount of the rich red jam. He let his laser-like stare touch each person at the table as he tasted the preserves and then chewed thoughtfully, slowly savoring the sweet, tangy heat. His poker face gave nothing away as he swallowed. Next, Max picked up the tall glass of cucumber-mint water and took a sip of the icy beverage to cleanse his palette. Then he picked up the card with ingredients listed on it and perused it. Max repeated this entire process with the four remaining mason jars, without saying a word. When he was finally done, he leaned back in his chair and gave the jars a contemplative look as he rested his elbows on the chair arms and his hands formed a steeple with his fingers.

  To his employees who w
ere anxiously awaiting his reaction, he appeared to be deep in thought. And he was, just not on the condiments. No, his mind was a million miles away on the sassy little beauty who’d snuck away in the middle of the night...

  It was a chance meeting that probably never would have happened if he hadn’t gone into Baltimore yesterday afternoon to deliver a filly to a family. Max had stayed longer than he planned in order to get the animal acclimated to her new surroundings which the family appreciated. As first-time horse owners, they were filled with anxiety and wanted to ensure that they would be caring for the horse correctly. Max could understand and appreciate that, as it was always hard for him to part with a member of his farm animal family. By the time he left their home, the sun had set, so he decided to stop at one of his favorite bars for their famous crab cakes with spicy beer hollandaise sauce.

  His food was barely placed in front of him when the door opened and SHE strolled in, looking like she owned the place as she surveyed the bar with a raised eyebrow. Her vibe screamed, “look if you must, but don’t touch or attempt to talk to me”. Max’s first impression of the petite dynamo was that she looked like a throwback from the sixties with her reddish-brown, tousled pixie cut and large doe-like chocolate brown eyes. Even from a distance he could see how thick and long her dark lashes were against cinnamon-colored skin that was smooth and satiny looking. As she approached the bar with her no-nonsense stride, Max could see the smattering of freckles splattered across her snub nose, and her bare, lush mouth was sexy with the top lip being slightly fuller than the bottom one. With her fresh-faced beauty and short haircut, she greatly resembled a younger Lisa Bonet.

  His eyes slid down her petite body covered in a severe cut, no-nonsense black suit and a crisp white blouse complete with a neck bow. It was very schoolmarm-looking and screamed that she wanted to be taken seriously. Hardly the kind of attire one wore to a loud, raucous bar; and Max smiled with appreciation because no matter how much it covered, the suit couldn’t hide the body underneath it. He admired the way the jacket caressed her full breasts and nipped in to hug her tiny waist while the pants lovingly clung to her curvy hips. Max groaned under his breath as he was treated to a view of her plump, apple-bottom backside when she walked by him and took a seat at the opposite end of the bar. He shifted slightly as the tightening in his groin area became uncomfortable. She was built for giving and receiving pleasure, and he found himself wanting to be the one doing both the taking and giving.

  Max continued to observe her as she studiously avoided eye contact with anyone, save the bartender. Posture erect, she kept her eyes on the band with a closed expression. When the bartender brought her first drink, she practically downed it. Then her head started to bob in time to the band’s rhythm. After drink two, her fingers started to snap in time to the music as well, while she perused the menu. Crab cakes forgotten, Max watched as she sang along with the singer. The way her sexy lips formed the words, had him picturing them wrapped around his cock. Or making her bite them as he thrust into her, with unrestrained lust.

  “Are the crab cakes not to your liking, boss?” the bartender, who’d introduced himself as Danny, asked when he brought Max another beer which he took gratefully.

  “Appreciate it, man. The food is just fine; I’m just not as hungry as I thought, I guess,” Max replied, continuing to watch the woman. Which was true. He wasn’t hungry for anything on Mo’s menu. “Have you ever seen her in here before?”

  Danny turned to follow his gaze before turning back with a grin. “Nope, but she’s certainly a looker. Word of advice, you’d best make a move. You ain’t the only one looking.”

  Max turned to survey the men in the bar and wasn’t surprised to find the bartender’s statement to be true. What he did find surprising was the sudden rush of fierce possessiveness he felt for the woman. “I’m picking up her tab.”

  Danny nodded his head and tapped the bar good-naturedly, “You got it, boss.”

  Max watched as the bartender turned and headed back to the opposite side of the bar. He wasn’t really sure why he’d done that and doubted that she would accept his offer. She looked like the kind of woman that handled her business and didn’t need a man doing anything for her. The only thing Max was sure of was that he wanted her to notice him. He continued to drink his beer as he waited. As Danny bent close to her and relayed the message, Max felt a strong sense of irritation, thinking that the bartender didn’t need to be that close to her.

  Finally, she looked his way, and the jolt of her eyes on him caused his dick to turn hard enough to drill through concrete. He watched as her lovely brown eyes filled with interest and could tell she approved of what she saw. When she mouthed the words “thank you”, he decided only a fool would wait a moment longer.

  He stood up from his stool and walked over to her, and things progressed quickly from there. When she said her name was Gina, Max could see the lie in her beautiful eyes. Call it a past occupational hazard. Turnabout was fair play so he introduced himself as Jay. When she leaned in and enveloped him in her flowery scent and licked his bottom lip, something wild and primal shot through him. It was all he could do not to grab her and find a dark corner to have his way with her. Instead, they hit the dance floor, and despite her innocent, prim and proper-looking appearance, she was a completely uninhibited dancer. He briefly wondered how she could move so well in her suit, but she was managing excellently with fluid moves and that succulent ass grinding into his crotch. She had him about to explode like a schoolboy seeing a naked woman for the first time.

  “Oh crap, he’s going into lawyer-mode on us,” someone muttered, interrupting his reverie and there were a few nervous laughs in response. They quickly waned off when Max raised an eyebrow.

  Shit, he’d forgotten he was in a meeting. Briefly, his eyes dropped to his crotch and wasn’t surprised to find himself rock hard again. Hell, he’d woken up hard and seriously pissed off, thanks to “Gina”. He’d shut his eyes for a brief moment and then woke to find her gone. Max was beyond offended by her disappearing act as no woman had ever left his bed willingly. Over and over he’d gone over the “Satisfied Lover” checklist. Level of arousal? Saturated to the point of dripping. Soundcheck? Moans and wails like she’d caught the Holy Ghost, and loud enough to wake the dead. His technique? She’d bitten her lips, his lips, clutched at the headboard, and clung to him like a kudzu vine as he familiarized himself over and over again with the best pussy he’d ever had the pleasure of being balls deep in.

  Clearing his throat, Max finally spoke, “This is good stuff, ladies and gentlemen. Damn good stuff. Congratulations on a job well done.” He grinned as cheers and whistles filled the room. “Now, let’s talk about packaging. What were you guys thinking?”

  “Something simple that allows what’s inside to be the main attraction?” Jeff Willis, his lead preservationist inquired.

  Max nodded his head thoughtfully. “Okay, I can see that. I want to do a butcher paper label. All writing and pictures in black. Ingredients printed in Calibri font, but actual title in cursive font; make it simple but elegant. Get with Donna in the main office so she can start submitting inquiries to graphic design companies. Something else that would be great: a section on the jars suggesting what the condiments pair great with.”

  “I like where this is going, boss. What’s the ETA for completing this project?” Jeff asked, pulling out his smartphone. He opened up his note app and looked at Max expectantly.

  “I want everything ready to go in six weeks’ time but available the week before Mother’s Day. I will need to have approved and finalized the packaging two weeks from now. Let Donna know that after packaging is complete; pictures need to be taken and uploaded to our company website. Everything is to be placed under New Arrivals and available for pre-ordering.” Max finished just as his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his back pocket saw it was his good friend and town sheriff, Wade Holloway. He responded with an auto message that he was busy and would call back lat
er.

  “Yes, sir. I’m heading over that way now,” Jeff responded as he pocketed his phone and stood up.

  “Thank you, Jeff. Stick around for a minute, though, okay?” Max asked, and Jeff sat back down. Then Max turned to the rest of his employees, “Great job again, everyone. I had no doubts you would rise to the challenge. I want you guys to go with Jeff to the main office and see Linda in payroll. I believe she has pay rate increase forms ready for all of you to sign.”

  Each employee thanked him profusely on their way out, and then he was alone. Max picked up his glass and finished off the cucumber-mint water. His phone rang so he pulled it out and saw it was Wade calling again. This time, he picked up.

  “What’s up, man?” Max asked as he picked up his spoon and helped himself to another taste of the apple sauerkraut. The mixture of spicy ca bbage, juicy apples and fennel was pretty tasty and he planned to take it home with him to put on the spicy chicken sausage links later tonight. “Want to come through for dinner? I plan on grilling links and pork ribs with potato salad. Got some new condiments to go with them.”