Page 58 of A Tempting Seduction

“That's a wonderful idea,” I said, already imagining the three of us in their sunny kitchen, recreating dishes that connected us to women we'd loved and lost.

“Next Sunday,” Little Grandma decided. “We'll have a proper cooking day. Make enough food to feed an army and share stories about the women who created these recipes. We’ll invite over a crowd.”

“I'd love that,” I said, meaning every word.

As I helped them carefully return the recipe cards to the box, Miss Gladiola paused with one card in her hand.

“Ruby,” she said quietly, “some of these measurements look unusual. This pound cake calls for baking at 194 degrees, which seems far too low.”

I glanced at the card she was holding. The numbers did look strange, written in what appeared to be my dad's handwriting rather than my mother's.

“That’s weird,” I said.

“Well,” Little Grandma said, wrapping new rubber bands along with the old, around the recipe box, “we'll figure it out when we cook together. Sometimes the best way to understand a recipe is to try it.”

As I drove home with the promise of next Sunday's cooking adventure warming my chest, I felt something I hadn't experienced in a long time.

Peace.

For the first time since arriving in Jasper Creek, I'd shared pieces of my real past with people who cared about me. Both Ford and Zoe knew about Lance and Carla and both of them were on my side. Miss Gladiola and Little Grandma were helping me connect with my mother's memory through her recipes.

I wasn't Ruby Banks anymore, hiding behind carefully constructed lies. But I wasn't entirely Ruby Miller either, the woman who'd appeared in Jasper Creek with no history and no connections.

I was becoming something new. Someone who could be honest about some of her past while still protecting her future. Someone who could trust the people who'd earned it while being smart about the secrets that still needed keeping.

My phone buzzed with a text message as I pulled into my driveway.

Good morning, beautiful. I hope you slept well. Dinner was incredible, and you are even more so. Can I take you to lunch today?

My heart did a little flip as I read Ford's message. He wasn't running away. He wasn't treating last night like something to forget or move past quickly.

I typed back before I could second-guess myself.

I'd love lunch.

His response came back almost immediately.

When can I pick you up?

I looked down at what I was wearing and grinned. No flannel.

Anytime you want, I’ll be waiting for you.

Chapter Twelve

The hotel room in Nashville felt like a prison cell. Two weeks of beige walls, stale coffee, and the constant hum of traffic outside my window had worn me down to the bone. I stared at the water damage on the ceiling and counted the hours until I could get back to Jasper Creek.

The only thing that kept me sane were my nightly calls with Ruby. Every evening around nine, her voice would fill the lonely space, telling me about Jordan's latest attitude problem or how Kristin was turning into the employee she'd always hoped for. I especially enjoyed hearing about the two high school kids she hired part-time. They were a riot. Ruby's laugh could chase away the worst day, and hearing about her small victories made this exile bearable.

Last night she'd told me about catching JR trying to teach Suzy how to make coffee during one of her babysitting gigs. “He had her standing on a chair, explaining that the 'magic brown powder' needed to be just right,” Ruby had said, giggling. “When I asked what they were doing, JR said they were practicing to help Miss Ruby at work.”

Those stories were sunshine in my day. Ruby's voice was home.

The vandalism at our Nashville construction site had been a nightmare. Someone had broken in and destroyed tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of custom millwork we'd installed three months ago. Crown molding ripped from ceilings. Cabinet doors kicked in. Hardwood flooring gouged with what looked like crowbars.

Insurance would cover the materials, but not the time. Not the stress of coordinating with contractors, adjusting timelines, and dealing with pissed-off clients who wanted their luxury condos finished on schedule.

My phone buzzed with another text from Walker.