We’re barely able to keep up as customer after customer joins the line out front for shortcake. Jennifer, Lauren, and I are all sweating already and it’s not even ten. I’ve already lost count of how many customers we’ve served and have had to send Jennifer to Red’s for smaller bills twice now. Part of me almost wants to go tell Reid and Roman to slow it down in there. The two of them are like customer magnets. I know most of the business is coming from them, because a very disproportionate amount of our customers are females, and the younger ones look longingly toward Reid, maybe hoping he’ll give them just a scrap more of attention because they took his bait.

Sorry girls. He’s mine.

The thought makes me smile to myself. Why should I be surprised that I feel possessive of him? I wanted to have his baby even when I it might have been the result of a drunken accident. My body was obviously very sure about my compatibility with Reid way before I was. Now that we’ve had a little more time to settle into what our lives could be like together, my mind is catching up. And it’s catching up with frightening speed.

I try to stop myself from thinking girlish, silly thoughts, but don’t succeed. I picture wedding dresses, raising children with Reid, moving into our own place together with a little fence. Maybe even a puppy. I picture it all and just behind the dream is reality. Dark, ever-present, and threatening. Reality could come crashing through at any moment, and if this little scheme of mine doesn’t work, everything might shatter with it.

Right now isn’t the time to think about that, so force myself to get my mind back on setting the shortcakes and whipped cream on paper plates and handing them to customers.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. By the time it’s too dark for people to pick strawberries, we’re all exhausted. Only Reid seems to still have energy. He lets Lauren and Jennifer go home early, promising to help me clean up. He set up a sleeping bag and a pillow in the bed of his truck, which Roman is curled up in and sleeping contentedly.

I count out the last dollar bill and press it down on the prep table. Tears well in my eyes. “It’s not enough,” I say.

“How much is it?” asks Reid.

“Seven thousand,” I say dejectedly. “Just a little over half of what I need.”

Reid moves in to hug me tight. “It’ll be okay,” he says softly. “It’ll all work out. Trust me.”

“Am I being an idiot for refusing to just take the money from my parents?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “The bakery has never been about money to you. It’s a symbol. It’s everything you’ve stood for and fought for. It’s your independence and it’s your strength.”

I sigh, squeezing his broad back tightly and burying my face in his chest. “And it’s going to be taken away.”

“No,” he says. “They can try to destroy the bakery, but they can’t destroy what it stood for.” He pauses, as if he’s telling himself something and not just me. “They can’t take that from you. No matter what.”

I’m putting the last of the supplies we took from the bakery back inside the next morning when Mark Riggins pulls up to the curb. He gets out of his truck with purpose, storming toward me as he pulls off his sunglasses.

“You two think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?”

I look over my shoulder, wondering who he’s referring to. “Excuse me?”

“You and my stupid fucking brother. You think you outsmarted me? Think again. This town was a piece of shit anyway,” he says, angrily sweeping his arm wide like he’s batting at a fly. “So I should be thanking you for saving me the trouble of trying to turn it into something worthwhile. I hope you all rot in this depressing little shithole.”

Without giving me time to figure out what’s going on, Mark gets in his truck, and tears out of the parking lot.

Did he just say he’s not going to try to build here anymore? Because of Reid and me? That doesn’t make sense though. I didn’t raise enough money, and my business wasn’t the only business being threatened.

I get in the car and drive to Reid’s house and feel a sinking in the pit of my stomach when I see him and Roman moving boxes outside. I step out of the car, waving my hands to get their attention. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me this is what it looks like.”

“Mind running inside for a bit, Bud? Get yourself some Kool-Aid.”

Roman runs excitedly inside while Reid rolls his neck and shoves his hands in his jean pockets. His muscles stretch the white shirt he’s wearing and even with everything going on, I can’t help wanting to reach out and touch him.

“I called a friend about a week ago. Name’s Mack. He’s a big time lawyer and I had him look into all this shit my brother was trying to pull. He told me district bylaws or some shit mean my brother had to submit a detailed plan for the little shopping mecca he wanted to build. Took us a few days to realize, but turns out my little garage is on a key piece of land. See, he was only able to go after a few businesses and homes that were on a specific type of lot. The center of town was basically free for the picking, but there’s a ring of residential homes surrounding the entire town that he couldn’t touch.

“His plan was to wait for the contract to fall through on my place so he could use my land to build a big enough road into town to support all the infrastructure he wanted to put up. So I used an obscure legal loophole to sell my property directly to the town. My grandfather’s will wouldn’t let me sell it until it passed into my name, but I was able to sell the estate to the town as a historical landmark. That puts it out of the hands of the mayor for at least two years. Apparently the city inspector has to fit it into their schedule to come appraise the property and determine a value. In other words, screw my brother, because he’s not getting his hands on this town.”

I shake my head. “No. You have to tell them you changed your mind. You can’t just sell your garage and your house because of me. You love that garage.”

“I do,” he says, nodding. “And I love you, too.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Reid. Please. I can’t let you do this for me. It’s too much.”

“Tell you what,” he says. “Roman and I will call it even if you just agree to make this whole engagement for real. What do you say?” he asks, getting on one knee. “Sandra Williams, will you make me the luckiest man in town?”

He holds out what looks like a handmade ring complete with a small diamond. I cover my mouth with my hand, letting the tears fall freely now. “I do-I mean, yes! God. Yes!” I say, laughing and letting him slide the ring on before squeezing him in a tight hug. “Please tell me you didn’t sell your house and garage just to prove this wasn’t about your grandfather’s will,” I say.

“Okay. It wasn’t just to prove that. It was also to make sure my fiancée gets to keep her bakery.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you did that for me. It’s the sweetest and stupidest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“What about Roman? Where are you going to live?”

“Well, seeing as Mark decided to back out of the construction, I don’t need to use the money from selling my house to pay the fee on your bakery. So we’re just going to get a place in town. I think Marley was planning to sell soon. I bet we could talk her into some kind of deal. We’ll be staying at the bed and breakfast your parents rented out until then. They paid for it until next month and we’ll have the whole place to ourselves. It’s going to be great. Oh, and I guess being my fiancée and all, you can come visit if you want. Just don’t overstay your welcome.”