Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(15)

“Good. A couple of my crews got sent to help out with clearing the North Cascade Highway. Should be open by mid-May if it stays warm. Did you get by to see Sophie’s warehouse?”

“Not yet. I know she’s really busy hiring people and getting in shelves and stuff. I’ll get there.” She thought about what her cousin was going through. “She’s amazing. Starting over the way she is. I bet in a year or two, she’ll have doubled the business.”

“I think it’s sad.”

“Why would you say that? She started with nothing and now she has a successful company. Do you know what those jobs are going to do for the island? Plus, she’s making it as a woman with virtually no one helping her. She’s impressive.”

He moved close and wrapped his arms around her. “She’s by herself. Even when she was married to Mark, she seemed like she was by herself. Look at all the love in this house. You, me, the boys. She goes home to nothing. I wish she’d find somebody and quit working so hard.”

She looked into Jaxsen’s eyes. “I can’t figure out if you’re being sweet or a total jerk.”

“I’m not saying a woman can’t be happy by herself, but it’s better with a man.”

She raised her eyebrows and he quickly amended. “A partner of either gender. I’m not saying she shouldn’t be a lesbian if she wants to be. Hell, then I could watch.”

She slapped his arm and stepped away. “Do not let the boys hear you talking like that. I mean it.”

“You know I’m kidding. I just think Sophie needs somebody to love who loves her back. She needs somebody in her bed.” He pulled her close again. “I couldn’t make it without you.”

Kristine was pretty sure that was true. Jaxsen worked hard and he was a good dad, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who did things he didn’t like. All his “helping” with the boys was things he enjoyed. If one of the kids turned up sick, he was nowhere to be found. A flaw, she thought, stepping out of his embrace, but one she could live with.

“So you’re baking tonight?”

“Is it Thursday?”

She did her best to keep her tone light. He asked the same question two or three times every week and she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why. She baked every Thursday night. She started after dinner and worked through the night, finishing about five Friday morning. She made cookies and brownies, packaging them to sell over the weekend. The local wineries were her biggest customers. In the summer they took her entire inventory. During the off-season, she sold the extras on Saturday mornings using a little cart she set up by the park. Most days she sold out by noon.

“You sure you don’t want to join us for spring break?” he asked.

“I am.”

“You’re going to miss a good time.”

Rather than say anything, she walked over to the Crock-Pot and turned it off, then set the lid on the counter so she could stir the stew.

“We were lucky to find a cabin we could afford,” he said. “A tent trailer would make things easier.”

“Jaxsen!”

“Come on. The boys would love it. We’d get a lot of use out of it.”

“We’ve talked about this. They’re expensive. We already have enough equipment. Three tents, the ATVs, Jet Skis, snowboards and who knows what else. The boys are fine with what they have.”

“But—”

The timer went off. She moved to the oven and pulled out the two cookie sheets of biscuits. The boys ran into the kitchen and jostled for position at the sink to wash their hands. As usual, Grant, the youngest, got stuck at the back of the line.

Jaxsen herded them over to the table while Kristine served the stew. When they were all seated, she took a second to look at her family. This was what she’d always wanted, she reminded herself. She was living the dream.

  By nine thirty that evening, Kristine had her fifth batch in the oven. While the cookies baked, she stacked the cellophane bags she used. Each one held six cookies. She had little boxes for the brownies. They cost way more than bags, but the presentation was great so she charged more.

Jaxsen wandered into the kitchen. “The kids are in bed,” he said. “Sort of.”

“I’ll check on them in a second.” She eyed the timer. She had four minutes. The next two cookie sheets were ready to go. Then she would have exactly fourteen minutes until they had to come out. She would start on brownies after that. She’d perfected her recipes over the years. She knew exactly how long everything took to bake and cool, down to the second.

He pulled her close. “Do we have time for a quickie?”

She knew what he meant. A fast, silent but satisfying encounter in their bathroom with the goal of finishing before one of the boys knocked on the door, interrupting them. Tempting, but not on her current schedule.

“Was that smile a yes?” he asked, nibbling on the side of her neck.

The timer went off.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Next time.”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was there and gone before she could figure out what he was thinking. But by the time she’d pulled the cookies out of the oven, he wasn’t there to ask.

  Shortly before six the next morning, Kristine counted out cookies and carefully placed them in decorative cellophane bags. She’d finished the brownies a little after midnight and had packed them up around four. She could physically bake more brownies at a time and the market for them was smaller, so they were more manageable. But when it came to the cookies, she could sell double what she baked.