A Pinch of Salt Read online

  A Pinch of Salt

  Copyright 2017 Bethany Lopez

  Published August 2017

  ISBN—978–1548356217

  Cover Design by:

  Makeready Designs

  Editing by:

  Red Road Editing / Kristina Circelli

  Proofreading by:

  KMS Freelance Editing

  Interior Design & Formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please don’t participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is also available in print at most online retailers.

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  Young Adult:

  STORIES ABOUT MELISSA—SERIES

  Ta Ta for Now!

  xoxoxo

  Ciao

  TTYL

  With Love

  Adios

  Nissa: a contemporary fairy tale

  New Adult:

  FRIENDS & LOVERS TRILOGY

  Make it Last

  I Choose You

  Trust in Me

  Indelible

  Contemporary Romance:

  A TIME FOR LOVE SERIES

  What Happened in Vegas (Prequel)

  8 Weeks

  21 Days

  42 Hours

  15 Minutes

  10 Years

  3 Seconds

  7 Months

  THE LEWIS COUSINS SERIES

  Too Tempting

  Too Complicated

  THREE SISTERS CATERING

  A Pinch of Salt

  Romantic Comedy/Suspense:

  CUPCAKES SERIES

  Always Room for Cupcakes

  Cupcake Overload

  Lei’d with Cupcakes

  Women’s Fiction:

  More than Exist

  Short Stories:

  Christmas Come Early

  Leap of Faith

  Harem Night

  Beau & the Beastess

  Cookbook:

  Love & Recipes

  Love & Cupcakes

  Children’s:

  Katie and the North Star

  Contents

  A PINCH OF SALT

  Also by Bethany Lopez

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Epilogue

  Excerpt of Always Room for Cupcakes

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To the amazing Bloggers who are willing to take chances on writers they’ve never read before. Thank You for your support!

  “TO THREE SISTERS CATERING,” MY sister Tasha said, her face beaming as she raised her glass of champagne. “May it be a smashing success.”

  “And make us happy,” my twin, Dru, added as our glasses came together with a tink.

  “And, allow us to share our gifts with others,” I said, my eyes tearing up as I looked at the happy faces of my two favorite people in the world.

  “Salude,” we chimed, then tipped the pretty flutes back.

  I sighed as the chilled bubbly liquid trailed down my throat. Champagne tasted happy, like a celebration, and drinking it I just knew we’d made the right choice in opening our own business. Even if our Aunt Priscilla told us we were nuts, or the guy who ran the restaurant on the corner glared at us every time we walked by . . . I felt it in my gut.

  I’d always dreamed of not only cooking and baking for a living, but also of doing it my own way, in my own business. It just so happened that my sisters were my best friends who just so happened to share the same dream of being their own bosses.

  “Momma would be so proud,” Tasha said, her smile dimming a bit at the memory of our mother.

  “She’d have said, ‘forget the champagne, this calls for tequila,’” Dru added softly, causing Tasha and me to laugh.

  Rather than respond, I raised my glass in memory of our mother, and took a sip.

  We’d taken the death of our mother very hard. She’d always been our rock, our sounding board, and our champion. We’d talked to various doctors and specialists, but in the end, the best we could do was be there, and make her comfortable.

  This is for you, Momma. I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to make this business work, and I’ll take care of my sisters just like you’d want me to.

  The chimes in the window made a beautiful melody, even though the windows were closed, and I knew it was our mother acknowledging my promise.

  “I can’t believe we get to move into our new building tomorrow and actually get started,” Dru said excitedly. After months of planning and paperwork, it was hard to believe that our dream was finally coming to fruition.

  “We’re going to be crazy busy for the next few months, so I say we enjoy a nice dinner, then get some rest,” I said practically, my mind already plotting out all the things I wanted to do in the kitchen.

  “That sounds good, Millie, but first, we need to make a little pit stop.”

  “What for?” Dru asked Tasha.

  “Tequila, of course,” our raven-haired sister replied, and I went from daydreaming about stocking my new pantry to hoping I didn’t wake up on my first day as a business owner with a massive hangover.

  Millie

  “WHERE THE HELL IS DRU?” Tasha asked with a scowl as she stomped into my kitchen.

  “Ah, I think she said she was going to check out decorations for the upcoming Wilson event,” I answered as I rolled ou
t dough on the floured table. “Why, what’s up?”

  “Mrs. Chapman just corned me for forty-five minutes about her daughter’s baby shower,” Tasha complained. “Dru promised me she’d handle it. She knows how that woman drives me batty.”

  “Where’d she catch you?” I asked as I kneaded.

  “On my way out of the bathroom at the deli.”

  “Yikes,” I said with a chuckle.

  “She blocked the sink, so I had to listen to her gripe while I waited to wash my hands. She held me hostage, Mills.”

  I laughed at the look of pure horror on my younger sister’s face.

  “What else do you have this afternoon?” I asked, trying to take her mind off of her hostage situation.

  “I’m going to stop by the printers and pick up the new business cards, then run over to the event space and make sure everything is on schedule for tonight. Can you hold down the fort?”

  “Sure thing,” I replied, smacking my lips together to blow her a kiss, since my hands were covered in dough.

  “Thanks, babe,” Tasha said, then left as quickly as she’d entered.

  Three Sister’s Catering had started out as strictly a catering business, but over the last year we’d added a small seating area and counter in the front of the store. Now, not only did we offer a full catering menu for events, but we sold assorted coffee, tea, and pastries.

  We’d never planned on having a storefront, it had just happened organically.

  I loved trying out new recipes and baking when I didn’t have an order for catering, and I’d ended up with an abundance of product. Initially, I’d just bring some out when Tasha or Dru were meeting with clients, then it had morphed into a daily occurrence.

  Now, we were open every morning, except Mondays, for people to stop in and grab a snack.

  Dru had relished the opportunity to decorate the front of the house, and had made the little dining area into a warm and sophisticated place to stop and enjoy a quick break.

  I was just putting the bread in the oven for tonight’s bridal shower, when I heard the telltale jingle of the door being opened in the front.

  “Be right out,” I called as I gave my hands a good scrub and took off my dusty apron.

  “Okay,” a male voice returned.

  I checked the small mirror I’d secured on the walk-in, to make sure I didn’t have flour on my face, then walked out front with a smile for the waiting customer.

  I stumbled a little at the sight of him.

  Tall and thin, but with a nice set of biceps peeking out of his shirt, so you knew he was fit. A mop of wavy brown hair, a sweet, if somewhat panicked-looking face, and, be still my heart, glasses.

  “Good morning,” I managed, my tone coming out somewhat breathless as I tried to maintain a warm but professional demeanor.

  “It will be, if you can help me,” he replied hopefully, wringing his hands together as his eyes took on a doe-like quality.

  Yes, I thought, I can help you with whatever you need, just look at me like that every day for the rest of my life.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked, sure my cheeks were turning red.

  Then he smiled, and two dimples appeared.

  Seriously? I looked around the store for hidden cameras. Are my sisters playing tricks on me? This guy cannot be real. Or any more adorable.

  “I know it’s last minute, but I have an emergency. I need to hire you to cater my daughter’s ninth birthday party.”

  And, there it is . . . the punchline. Mr. Adorable Dimples is married with a family.

  I looked down at his ringed finger, smothered my disappointment, and gave him an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry, we don’t do children’s parties.”

  When his face fell, I wanted to snatch the words back.

  “We just don’t have those types of decorations on hand,” I added, hoping to soften the rejection. “There’s a party supply store around the block; I’m sure they’ll have what you need.”

  He shook his head and I tilted my head back to get a better look at him. Damn, he was really tall.

  “I wish it were that simple. Kayla’s outgrown the kind of birthday party I could give her. If we were still talking about Frozen, I could turn our living room into a winter wonderland and decorate the shit out of it.” He winced and said, “Sorry,” and I assumed he was talking about swearing. Which, jeez, could he get any cuter.

  “What does she want?” I asked, even though I knew I should send him on his way and get back to work. I found I didn’t want him to leave yet.

  I was such a brat.

  “A tea party,” he replied, making tea party sound like a bad word. “I’ve never even had a drop of tea, let alone made an entire party out of it.”

  I bit back a chuckle at his obvious distress, and asked, “Can’t your wife help?”

  His face looked pained, then he let out a sigh and said, “She, uh, left us, almost a year ago. We haven’t heard from her since, so . . . no, I’m on my own with this one.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I managed, feeling like a giant heel for getting so personal. I took a step forward, intent on touching his arm to offer comfort, then stopped when I realized what I was doing.

  He waved off my apology and ranted, “Kayla’s best friend had a tea party for her birthday, and all K could talk about was the little sandwiches and the pretty cups.” He looked at me with wide eyes. “I know how to make two-fisted sandwiches, but finger sandwiches . . .”

  He ran a hand through his hair, which was longer on top and short on the sides, and I bit my lip so I wouldn’t smile at his adorable frustration.

  “When does Kayla want this tea party?” I asked, even though I knew we didn’t have time in our schedule to fit in a last-minute event.

  “Saturday.”

  My mind started working as I thought about everything I had to do in the next two days, and what we had on hand to make a little girl’s ninth birthday tea party magical.

  I walked around the counter and picked up our book, then flipped through the pages until I got to the event sheets.

  “Here,” I said, walking back to him with a clipboard and pen. “Fill this out with the date, time, place, and budget, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Seriously?” he asked, his handsome face blossoming with hope.

  “Seriously,” I replied with a nod, then gasped when he crushed me to him in a bear hug.

  “You’re a lifesaver,” he said, but all I could focus on were his long arms around my body, and my cheek plastered against his warm chest. It was deliciously firm, he smelled amazing, and I could hear the soothing sound of his beating heart. “An angel,” he amended, then let me go.

  I looked up at his smiling face, and my heart rolled over like a happy little gymnast.

  Oh, boy . . .

  He filled out the sheet and handed it to me with a sweet grin.

  “I’ll talk with my sisters and be in touch,” I said as I looked down at the paper, then back up at him. “Jackson.”

  “I can’t wait, Millie,” Jackson replied, then winked at me, winked at me, and walked out the door.

  I stood there for a moment, frozen in place by that wink, wondering how he knew my name. Then I remembered . . . it was sewn into my chef coat.

  Jackson

  HUGGING HER HAD PROBABLY BEEN a bad idea, but, damn, it sure felt good.

  It started out innocently enough. I really had stepped into Three Sisters Catering with the intention of begging, pleading, and bartering for a party for Kayla. Then she’d stepped out from the back . . . the sexiest brunette in a chef’s coat I’d ever seen.

  And the way her curves had fit snuggly against me, her head resting perfectly just below my chin . . . Well, let’s just say my body hadn’t reacted to a woman in that way since well before my wife left me.

  I’d ended up stuttering and stumbling my way out of there. I think I winked for God’s sake.

  What a tool.

  The important thing was
that she’d said yes, they’d consider catering K’s party. I’d been trying so hard to give Kayla everything she needed since Julie had walked out of our lives. I couldn’t always give her what she wanted monetarily, but she knew she was the most important thing in my life, and I really wanted to make this birthday special. It was the first one since her mother disappeared, and I needed to prove that we could do this without her, that I could do this without her.

  With the help of a catering company, that is.

  “Running behind, Jackson?” Principal Wiggins called as I rushed through the entry door of the high school where I worked.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I called with a wave as I headed toward my classroom, pulling open the door just as the final bell rung.

  “Busted,” one of the students called out as I walked to my desk with a sheepish smile.

  “Tardy, Mr. H,” another student said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “Calm down.”

  Since my class was an Advanced English class, most of the students I had were there because they wanted to be, not just to fill a mandatory block on their schedule. We’d been in school for a couple months now, so I knew most of my students pretty well, and they knew what kind of teacher I was. I’d never been late before, so they had to give me shit, even though I was usually understanding when one of them were tardy.

  “Car break down?”

  “Alarm didn’t go off?”

  “Dog ate your homework?”

  I let them get it all out while I placed my things on my desk and got out my lesson plan. Once I walked to the center of the room, they knew I was ready for business, and the good-natured taunts died down.

  “Hamlet,” I began, adjusting my glasses slightly as I surveyed the faces in the room. “Act three, scene one. Let’s discuss.”

  It was one of those days where I was already exhausted by lunch. I was distracted, thoughts of Kayla’s birthday and the morning’s discussion of Hamlet buzzing around in my brain, so I didn’t realize that I was about to run into one of the other teachers until I was right up on her.

  “Oh,” Rebecca Webber cried, as I reached a hand out to steady her.