Ava and I are going fruit picking tomorrow,” Parker told Evan and Noah as he refilled their coffee cups. Without being asked. Which was a signal for something is up.

He didn’t like refilling coffee because he was a grump who didn’t like people paying a measly eighty-seven cents for a cup of coffee that, with the free refills, turned into four cups of coffee and caused them to sit around gabbing, taking up a table, and keeping him waiting on them and preventing him from being able to get their cups and table cleaned up.

At least, that was what everyone thought. And yeah, that was part of it. But it was also because it was one of the very tiny ways he could exert some control in this damned diner.

He knew most people would think that was crazy. The diner was his. He owned it. He ran it entirely on his own. He loved this place, he really did. And he loved being able to honor his father by continuing the business that had meant so much to Bill Blake. But the place was still his father’s in almost every way. From the menu to the décor to the dishes. Parker had kept everything the same on purpose.

Except for the food. That was all his. He was still serving burgers and BLTs and pot roast like his father had, but his was even better than his father’s had been. And he wasn’t about to let people muck it up by adding ketchup where it didn’t belong or holding the cheese from things that were so obviously better with it.

“You and Ava are going fruit picking,” Evan repeated.

“Yep.” Parker pushed the silver cream pitcher closer to Evan.

Evan looked at Noah. Parker never offered cream with the coffee. They always had to ask. Noah was regarding Parker with narrowed eyes.

“Is that a euphemism?” he finally asked.

Parker let a half smile curl his mouth. “That’s what Hank and the boys probably think.”

“Well, is it?” Noah asked. “Because there’s no fruit to pick this time of year.”

Parker couldn’t help but let his full smile stretch his lips. “Ava doesn’t know that.”

“It was Ava’s idea to go fruit picking?” Evan asked.

“Yep.” Parker poured more coffee—straight black—into Noah’s cup as Evan, the one with the sweet tooth, added more sugar to his own.

“Why?” Evan asked.

“Because it’s part of her plan,” Parker said. The plan that he was going to have a very good time messing up.

He’d never met a person who had as many plans and lists as Ava Carmichael did. It was hot. He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t make lists. He didn’t make big, elaborate plans either. But he appreciated it in others.

Actually, that wasn’t true. He did make big, elaborate plans. Then he erased them, tore them up, or just ignored them. Because he didn’t need a bunch of new ideas in his life. Everything was already going according to, well, plan.

“Parker?” Evan snapped his fingers in front of Parker’s nose.

Parker focused on his friends instead of thinking about all of the ways Ava drove him crazy. And how much worse it was likely to get if he didn’t take charge from the very start.

“What plan?” Evan’s tone indicated it wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question.

“Her plan for my pie shop,” Parker said. And that was definitely part of what had kept him up thinking last night. She said that she wanted his input, his recipes, his hand in getting the pie shop business going strong, but she was still driving the train. Or so she thought.

“She talked to you about the partnership with Cori?” Evan asked.

Of course Evan would know about the plan for Cori and the pie shop.

But Parker was relieved that it was only half of the pie shop now. The pie shop that hadn’t even existed six years ago, had never made any money, and had come to be only because Parker had refused to put pie on his own menu for Rudy. The pie shop that Rudy had asked Parker to look after when the older man had realized the cancer was going to win. The pie shop that had sat empty in the days after Rudy became too sick to go in and before Rudy’s triplets had come to town. The shop that the girls had brought back to life.

Parker would never admit it, but he liked that. Ava had brought back the noise—the sounds of someone banging around in the pie shop kitchen—and Parker had felt some of his sadness lift just knowing someone was over there using the measuring cups and plates and space that Rudy had filled. Even though Ava was far louder and did a lot more swearing than Rudy ever had.

“Yeah,” Parker finally answered Evan. “But Ava wants to be sure it’s going strong before she leaves. She wants to actually put in some effort now that it’s going to be Cori’s too.”

“And you’re going to help her?” Evan asked.

“Sure. I want the pie shop going strong too,” Parker said. “Why wouldn’t I use a brilliant business mind like Ava’s to make that happen?”

He lifted a shoulder, trying to keep his posture and expression nonchalant. He wasn’t going to let himself get too worked up or excited about this. It was pie. It would be a business in addition to the one he already had that took more time and energy some days than he wanted it to. Cori was a fantastic baker with a lot of creative energy. The kitchen on the other side of his wall could be all Cori’s. That made the most sense. He could help and support her, but she could do the work.

And all the new recipes and plans that he did have in his head, could just fucking stay there. He only had to survive eight more months with Ava Carmichael in his world and then she’d go back to New York and things in his life would go back to normal. Quiet. Easy. Straightforward. Boring. He wanted boring. He needed it. He’d promised his father he’d appreciate it.

Flat out, Ava was a threat to his simple, even-keeled life.

Sure, the heels, the hair, the don’t-fuck-with-me air about her, not to mention the fucking-with-me-could-be-really-fun attitude…all of that was part of it. How could it not be? But it was the ambition and creativity that really drew him. And worried him. A lack of change was one very important ingredient in his lifestyle. He had a routine, patterns, habits that worked, kept him happy and healthy. And when he went to bed at night, he slept peacefully without a million thoughts of bigger and brighter things keeping him awake. And without dreams of bossing a long-legged blonde—wearing nothing but red heels—around in his bedroom.

At least that’s how it had been before Ava Carmichael came to Bliss.

“So you’re just going to use her brilliant business mind?” Evan said, his tone full of skepticism.

Parker grabbed a tray of clean silverware from the counter behind him and placed it in front of his friends with a stack of paper napkins. If they wanted him to talk, they were going to have to help him work. He had at least another hour of work to do to prep for breakfast tomorrow. And he wanted something to do and focus on besides just thinking and talking about Ava. The familiar, menial tasks like rolling silverware, were exactly what he needed—the things that he appreciated about his work and focused him on how simple and comforting his routines were.

The hours running this place were long. Six a.m. to six p.m. without any of the extra prep and cleanup he put in. But they were also soothingly familiar. It was always the same, and his body, his whole system, was so used to the hours he kept that he didn’t think he could ever do anything else.

“I’m going to teach her to make pie,” Parker said, rolling a set of silverware and setting it aside without looking.

“You are going to teach Ava to make pie?” Evan asked, reaching for a napkin and a set of silverware.

“Is making pie a euphemism?” Noah wanted to know, also grabbing a napkin.

That sent Parker’s mind spinning again and he had to consciously stop the thoughts that wanted to branch way out into directions they shouldn’t. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m going to teach her to bake a decent pie. My recipe. So that when people walk in they’ll be getting my pie instead of that crap she’s been doing.”

Well, that already screwed up the plan to just let Cori do her thing in the kitchen, Parker realized as he said it out loud. Fuck. So much for just focusing on the books. According to Rudy’s will and the stipulations in it, Cori couldn’t do anything in the kitchen for another eight months and two weeks. The plan was designed to get each girl out of her comfort zone and trying and appreciating other sides of the business. Cori was doing the accounting and books right now rather than being colorful and creative in the kitchen. Ava was creating—or attempting to create—the product rather than working on marketing or increasing the profit margin…clearly her natural talents.

So Parker was going to be in the pie shop’s kitchen, baking pies. And it was very difficult to ignore the kick of anticipation he felt in his chest thinking about that.

“Okay,” Evan said, in his reasonable lawyer tone of voice. “But why are you taking her fruit picking when there’s no fruit to pick?”

“Because she said so.”

“You’re letting her be the boss?” Evan asked.

“She is the boss,” Parker returned. At least on paper.

The idea of taking Ava out of her boss comfort zone too sent an arrow of anticipation through him. He liked control, but he always had it. He ran the diner—hell, his whole life—however he wanted to. He didn’t answer to anyone. He didn’t have a partner, in business or personally, so there were no concessions, no compromises, no fights. He didn’t even have to substitute baked potatoes for French fries if he didn’t want to.

Evan chuckled. “She’s going to be pissed when she finds out.”

Parker couldn’t ignore the jolt of anticipation that gave him too. Fighting with her would do nothing but up his blood pressure. He wasn’t going to go there with her. And yet, his stupid pulse raced at the idea of Ava getting riled up and squaring off with him. Even the few times she’d mouthed off to him when he caught her swiping flour from his kitchen had gotten his heart rate thumping.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, as if he wasn’t remembering how her eyes sparked when she was irritated. “She can’t fire me. And she can’t piss me off. She needs me.” And he liked that far too much.

“I guess that’s true,” Evan agreed. “And it makes too much sense that you be the one to teach her. So she’s kind of stuck.”

Parker nodded, rolling three more sets of silverware, weighing his next words.

“But I don’t want you two correcting anybody who thinks that fruit picking is an euphemism,” he said, rolling another spoon, knife, and fork together inside a napkin. Tightly, quickly, perfectly. He wondered how many times his hands had done those exact motions in that exact pattern.

“You want us to let them think you’re doing something else with Ava?” Noah asked. His tone was curious, but not surprised.

“Three months of fruit picking and making pies with a guy who’s nothing like the guys in New York, who’s from Bliss, who she’ll slowly get to know as we spend time together…” Parker trailed off, letting those words sink in. “I think that could be good for her.”

“You want to be the one dating her,” Evan filled in. He also didn’t sound shocked.

Why didn’t Evan sound shocked? That idea should be a little shocking. Shouldn’t it? But Evan was a smart guy. Maybe he’d realized what Parker had.

“It makes sense,” Parker said. “She and I have spent time together for the past three months and we’ll be spending more time together coming up. It could count.” He finally looked up at Evan. “Right?” he asked. He said it firmly, as if he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but he definitely wanted that confirmation from the man who’d actually written Rudy’s will.

Evan nodded. “Yeah. I think it could. The trust says simply that she has to spend time with a guy from here, get to know him for reasons other than furthering the Carmichael Enterprises business connections, not see anyone else for six months, have some fun.”

Rudy had told them that Ava’s social life in New York had always doubled as business meetings. She’d never shied away from mixing business with pleasure, dating men who were business associates or who could help her make connections, and attending events where there were other CEOs, politicians, and powerful people who could strengthen her business ties.

Rudy had wanted more for her. Or maybe less. Less business, less pressure, less stress. More simple fun. And more time just being with people for the sake of being with them, getting to know them…and maybe getting to know herself.

Parker had, over the years, heard many of his older customers wax poetic about life lessons and dole out advice to the younger patrons about living in the moment and figuring out what was truly important in life. But when Rudy had talked about his daughters, Parker had found himself paying closer attention. The regret in Rudy’s voice had been palpable, and watching him die had been excruciating. Parker had lost his father when he was only eighteen, but the brain aneurysm had taken Bill Blake in a flash. Watching Rudy get sicker and weaker had been horrible. But it had also given Parker the chance to say all the things he hadn’t been able to say to his dad. Things like “thank you” and “I love you too” and “yes, I promise”.

It was that last one that made Parker want to use the baking lessons with Ava for more. Rudy didn’t want Ava to be like him—consumed by work, all his relationships about Carmichael Enterprises, all his time spent inside glass and steel buildings in suits and ties.

Since Evan had fallen for Cori on the first day he met her, and Noah had appointed himself Brynn’s new best friend and her personal matchmaker—to fulfill her requirements, which included dating multiple men in Bliss—that left Parker to help Ava.

For better or worse.

The only thing that had really happened exactly according to Rudy’s will so far was that Ava was now baking pies in a little shop in Kansas. She still talked to people back in New York daily and still had a wound-tight energy about her, like a spring that was ready to be sprung any moment. And she still wore her skirts and heels.

Parker would be very happy to help her out of those.

No. He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. This was about the pie shop—his pie shop—and Rudy’s hopes for his girls. And since Evan was no longer available, and Noah had his hands full, Parker almost had to help Ava meet her dating stipulation as well.

“You think you can do that?” Evan asked. “Make sure she works less? Has some fun?”

“I can get it done,” Parker told him. “But you guys can’t tell Cori and Brynn.”

“Can’t tell them what?” Noah asked with a frown.

“That all of this constitutes a dating relationship,” Parker said, almost wincing at the word relationship. He wanted one of those. Or so he told himself. A nice, simple, steady relationship with a nice, simple, steady girl.

Exactly what his father had wanted for him when he’d thrown a dart at a map and moved Parker and his mother from Chicago to the tiny Kansas town. He’d felt the name Bliss was a sign that this would be the perfect place to escape from his high-pressure job in the city and get his son away from the friends who had turned into bad influences as Parker entered high school.

“Why can’t Cori and Brynn know?” Noah asked.

“Because I don’t want Ava to know.”

“You don’t want Ava to know you’re dating her?” Evan asked.

“Right,” Parker said. At his friends’ raised eyebrows, he said, “Look, that woman needs to learn to just go with it sometimes. In a normal relationship, you don’t sit down at a conference table, say “let’s date”, and then spell out the terms of the agreement. You just meet someone, spend time together, and get to know one another. You just let it happen. Ava Carmichael never just lets things happen.”

“So you’re going to make her just let things happen,” Noah said.

“I’m going to take her fruit picking and teach her to make pies,” Parker said. “Whatever else happens isn’t going to be labeled, or put in her planner, or overthought, or overanalyzed. It’s just going to happen and be whatever it is. Like a normal relationship between two people.”

Evan finally nodded. “Okay. Yeah. That would count. As long as she doesn’t decide that she needs to find someone else to meet that six-month requirement with.”

The idea of that sent a hot jolt of what could have been jealousy through Parker—if they’d been talking about any other woman and man in any other situation. Since it was Ava, it was probably just annoyance. Like how annoyed he’d felt when she’d been pretending to date Evan for the very short period before the guy had realized he couldn’t stay away from Cori for even three more months. Parker had definitely felt annoyed whenever Evan had put his hand on Ava’s lower back or made her laugh.

“She won’t,” Parker said resolutely. He’d be keeping her too busy to fit anyone else in. “As soon as everyone in town believes that she and I are dating, the other guys will stay away.” There was that too. It was a small town, and not only was Parker well respected and liked, there was also a strong bro code in place.

“Good point,” Evan said. “Though I don’t know how you’re going to keep this from her when the whole town knows.”

At that, Parker laughed. “Ava isn’t really out socializing and chitchatting with everyone, you know? I don’t think she’ll find out. As long as Cori and Brynn don’t say anything.”

“I think Cori would think it was a good idea. Get that part of the trust taken care of.”

“Brynn too,” Noah agreed. “Get it over with.”

Parker nodded. “Exactly. And it will keep her from breaking some poor sap’s heart who might actually fall for her.”

Evan gave him a funny look but nodded again. “Yeah, we definitely want to avoid that.”

Parker rolled up the last set of silverware and put it with the rest. Neat and organized and stacked exactly the way they had been every night for the past fifteen years. Just the way he liked things.

---

The next day, the diner was packed. Every chair, booth, and stool was filled. There were even a couple of guys standing off to one side, leaning against the wall, eating their burgers.

And every single person turned to look as Ava stepped through the front door.

Including Parker. And he almost dropped the plate he was holding.

Holy hell.

Her hair, normally stick straight and sleek, was now pulled back into a ponytail. That alone was strangely sexy. But she also had a pair of sunglasses propped casually on top of her head and the bright red rims matched the T-shirt she wore.

A T-shirt. He’d never seen her in a T-shirt. She’d worn a hoodie for the game night she and her sisters had hosted at their house about a month ago, but this…well, this shirt was Cori’s. It had to be. It was bright red and said, In my defense, I was left unsupervised across her breasts in large sparkly silver script letters.

That quote didn’t fit Ava at all. But the shirt itself…it fit against her curves a little too well.

And then there were the jeans. He had never seen her in blue jeans before either. He’d wanted to. In his mind, that was going to be a sign that she was trying to fit into small-town life, and that she was going to figure out how to dress for function and comfort rather than the I’ll-take-over-your-company-make-a-million-dollars-by-lunch-and-look-hot-as-hell-while-doing-it look she usually had going.

But the jeans hugging Ava’s hips, ass, and long legs were making his jeans fit a lot less comfortably, and the only functions he could come up with here were inappropriate, probably sexist, and involved smudging the lipstick that matched her sunglasses and T-shirt perfectly.

He supposed that she thought she was dressed for fruit picking.

Until he got to her heels.

His eyes finally made it past the slim-fitting denim to her feet. And these shoes, if nothing else, reminded him of exactly who Ava Carmichael was.

The silence in the diner stretched, all eyes on her, until she smiled and focused on him.

“It’s twelve fifty-five.”

That’s all she said, looking straight at Parker, but several people turned back to their plates and started eating faster.

“Boss is here,” Mark Johnson commented to Parker.

“She the boss of you everywhere?” Don Arnold asked under the diner noise so that only Parker, Mark, and Brian Watson heard.

“I’d let her tell me what to do,” Brian agreed.

“Shut. Up,” Parker told them. But it didn’t have a lot of force behind it. He’d expected to get crap about Ava being his boss at the pie shop. And lots of waggled eyebrows and innuendo about the time they spent together.

He didn’t care that everyone was enjoying the idea of Ava as his boss. Even outside of the diner. He didn’t get too worried about what people thought of him in general. The people here knew him. He’d been the same guy for the past fifteen years and he had no plans to change.

So there was no way anyone here actually thought that he was going to get all worked up about Ava. No way they really thought that he was going to suddenly change all of his habits or shirk his responsibilities even for a chance to peel those blue jeans off of her. So what if he was closing for a couple of hours this afternoon. That was supposed to be how this worked every day. Working six a.m. to six p.m. every single day in a little town where everything else was open eight to five left little time for chores at his farm, changing the oil in his truck, errands like picking up a new phone charger, or even stopping at the post office.

And frankly, no one needed a burger at three in the afternoon. He supposed some might say that was just his opinion, but truthfully, it was right. He didn’t like the whole breakfast-for-dinner idea either. Don’t even get him started on brunch. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were three distinct meals that each had their own special tastes and style. In his diner, breakfast ended at nine o’clock, lunch ended at one, and dinner ended at six, and that was perfectly reasonable. And had been the schedule for twelve years now. Ever since Parker had taken over.

However, he did care that their teasing words about how Ava bossed him around did nothing to get his mind away from the idea of her telling him exactly what she liked—how hard, how fast, and how long.

“I’m suddenly in the mood for fruit pie,” Mark added.

Parker gave him a stern look. “Knock it off.”

It was only because he didn’t need his mind wandering to the idea of Ava with pie filling spread all over her…

Fuck.

Parker worked on not reacting. And not moving out from behind the counter that was blocking the erection that was suddenly pressing insistently against his fly.

But he was torn between laughing and rolling his eyes as she crossed the diner, the red purse swinging from her arm, her heels clicking on his tile like some kind of fucking countdown clock ticking away. He simply reached behind the counter and started handing out to-go boxes. Which people filled immediately.

This damned town. He’d been trying to get people out of the diner by one p.m. every day for the past twelve years. But the door rarely closed behind the last customer until at least a quarter after. That was one of those things where he tried to exert some control over that didn’t really work. The food really was the only thing he was completely in charge of, it seemed. Yet all Ava had to do was strut in here in her kick-ass red heels and mention the time.

Of course, no one was shoveling their fries in because they were scared of her. It was because they all wanted Parker to get lucky. It should probably be disturbing to think that the entire town was this interested in him getting laid. But he was used to these people being in his business—his actual business and his personal business—and this was exactly where he wanted their minds to be right now.

He didn’t respond to Ava as she leaned a hip against the counter next to the cash register, watching as people reached for their wallets. As if she was overseeing her subjects.

Amazingly, the door bumped shut behind the last customer at 1:03 p.m.

Ava hadn’t even blinked as people told her to have a good time, and that they were happy she was getting Parker out of the diner for a while and to enjoy the fruit picking. If she’d noticed the way they’d said “fruit picking”, she didn’t show it. She’d smiled, nodded, and said goodbye sweetly to everyone who had spoken to her.

After they were gone, she crossed back to the door, turned the lock and flipped the CLOSED sign around as if it was her diner, her door and her sign.