Millie didn’t say another word after that and we were quiet all the way to the farm. It wasn’t until we pulled up to the gates and Richie ran out with balloons that Millie spoke again.
“Oh crap. The cupcakes!” She slapped her thighs. “I made you maple cupcakes but Ashton left them by the river.” She glared over her shoulder at me and I knew she was pissed about my earlier comment telling her to mind her business.
“Yeah, sorry, I was too busy saving your life from venomous snakes!” I shot back.
“Stop sassing.” Gran reached back and smacked blindly in the air without looking, connecting with the side of my neck.
“That’s okay, dear, you can bake me something else while you stay here.” Why was Gran being so fake to Millie? She wasn’t normally this nice. It was weird.
“We aren’t staying long. Got a bar to run,” I reminded Gran.
“I’m aware of that Ashton. I own half of it,” Gran snapped as she pulled into the large three-car garage.
“Technically forty-nine percent,” I said and then ducked as her hand came back again, blindly swatting.
Gran was a self-made woman. Her daddy died when she was sixteen and left her and her mom the farm. With no brothers to help out, Gran worked the farm with her mom day in and day out, raising cattle, pigs, and over twenty acres of corn.
Recently she’d gotten into selling free range chicken eggs and lavender oil and other hippy-dippy shit. All Jenna’s idea. I brought Gran on as a partner to the bar last year when it really started to go downhill after my accident. She injected some money into it to keep me afloat, but now it was a lost cause.
“You own half the bar?” Millie asked.
Gran nodded. “Until Ashton sells it, I guess.”
That’s right.
Millie threw her hair over one shoulder. “Oh he didn’t tell you? He’s not selling. We’re going to save it. Redo the menu and fix it up.”
The nerve of this woman.
My words came through gritted teeth: “It’s something we’ve talked about but I’m still unsure.”
Gran threw the car in park. “Save the bar! What a wonderful idea.” She was beaming. She always loved that damn bar. It reminded her of when my dad had his shit together and had big dreams.
Millie nodded matter-of-factly. “I’m a trained chef and baker. Ashton and I have a big plan for that bar.” She peered over her shoulder at me and pinned me with a glare as if daring me to disagree with her.
“Millie is more of the big plan person. My eyes are focused on practical things like money,” I growled, opening the truck door and stepping out.
I needed to find a bottle of alcohol and drown myself in it. The next twenty-four hours were going to be painful.
Chapter 12
Millie
A snake. A fucking snake broke up our kiss! If that wasn’t a sign from God that kissing Ashton Knight was a huge sinful mistake, then I didn’t know what was! That kiss had been so soft and tender and I’d thought for a second that Ashton was a decent person, until he’d turned right back into an asshole afterward.
When I’d asked about the picture of the pretty brunette in his grandma’s car, he’d bitten my head off. Then to tell her he was still selling the bar when I was working my ass off to save it! Ohh, I could kill him. But part of me wondered what he felt when we kissed. Did he like it? What made him do it? If the snake from Satan hadn’t broken us up, would he have kept going? Would I?
“Millie, doll…” Gran snapped me from my thoughts. I had just met the entire family. Ashton’s aunt Maggie, his cousins Jackson and Richie, and Gran’s best friend Trudy. Ashton was probably somewhere smoking cigarettes and trying to die.
I looked up at his gran and smiled. “Yes?”
“Would you please go find my grandson and tell him it’s lunchtime.”
I nodded.
“Oh, and if he’s smoking on my birthday, I’ll skin his hide.” She slammed down a pack of nicotine gum on the counter and I grinned.
“You got it.” I picked up the gum and slipped out the back-patio door. This farm was adorable. It smelled like animals but it had a charm. Rose bushes lined a white picturesque fence, which encompassed the cute powder-blue farmhouse.
Who invited you to a party, kissed you on the way, and then ditched you the second you got there?
Ashton Knight, that’s who.
Where was he? I was about to call his name when I got a whiff of cigarette smoke. What idiot smoked with a heart transplant? But the answer came to me immediately.
An idiot who wanted to die. Maybe not consciously suicidal, but Ashton didn’t seem to care that he was trashing the organ my fucking husband gave him. Anger built up inside of me until I turned the corner and saw him about to put the filter to his lips.
“Hey!” I shouted, and he jumped, snapping his head up in my direction.
He put his hand over his chest. “Geeze, Mom, you scared the shit out of me.”
I walked fast and came in hot. You could tell by the alarmed look on his face that he knew he was about to get reamed. As I got closer, he stepped back a pace but I kept going until I was face to face with him.
“You’re a stupid man,” I growled, reaching out and grasping the cigarette from his fingers, tossing it on the ground and crushing it with my high heel. Then I pulled out the pack of nicotine gum and slammed it on his chest. “Stop. Smoking.”
His hand snaked out and grabbed mine, trapping it to his chest. “How about you stop trying to fix me.”
My face fell.
Busted.
He nodded. “I see you, Millie. I see
