Death of a Bad Apple Read Free

Apple Fest. Aunt Abby must have talked him into it early that morning.
    â€œMorning, Darcy,” Jake called from the service window of his truck. Seconds later the door opened and I stepped up and into cream puff paradise. Jake wore his usual formfitting logo T-shirt and sexy jeans, covered by an orange-stained apron. I was tall at five feet ten, but he towered over me. The sparkle in his dark eyes when he looked at me made my heart skip a beat. He’d already prepared today’s fall special—a cream puff shaped like a pumpkin, filled with pumpkin cream, and topped with caramel sauce and a green gumdrop to simulate the stem. Not only was it adorable; I was sure it was delicious. Jake was a master of cream puff creations, and I was his go-to taster.
    â€œSo,” I said, my eyes lingering on one of the pumpkin puffs, “I hear you’re joining my aunt for the opening weekend festival at Apple Valley.”
    He grinned. I melted a little. “What can I say? She has a way of wrapping me around her little manicured finger.”
    â€œTell me about it.” I rolled my eyes.
    â€œShe said you’ll be there too, so I plan to make a reservation at the same B and B.”
    â€œOh no,” I said, then added, “you can just stay with me.”
    His grin widened. I melted some more.
    â€œI’m hoping it will be a nice getaway and we’ll have some time together,” I continued. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break from city life and all its recent drama, and spending a peaceful minivacation in the quiet country. Besides, the festival is offering apple wine. I’m a sucker for fruity wines.”
    â€œI prefer apple beer,” Jake said as he filled more cream puffs for impending customers. “Bittersweet.”
    I scrunched up my nose. “I’ll stick to wine.”
    â€œSeriously, it’s good. You’ll have to try it.”
    I glanced back at the cream puff I’d been eyeing seconds before.
    Jake caught my unsubtle hint and pulled out another cream puff from the refrigerator. “Here. Try one of my Praline Apple Cream Puffs and tell me what you think.”
    I took a small bite and let the flavors of apple and caramel tickle my mouth, then dissolve away. “Killer,” I said.
    â€œGlad you like it. Hope the Apple Fest attendees do too.” He offered me a napkin. “Actually the weekend sounds fun. I’ll challenge you to a race through the hay maze.”
    â€œI was planning to celebrate your birthday at the Butler and the Chef,” I said, “but Aunt Abby made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I guess we can celebrate up there.”
    â€œIn our room at the bed-and-breakfast inn?” Jake raised an eyebrow.
    â€œWe’ll see,” I said coyly.
    He laughed. “Tell you what. If I get through the hay maze first, you have to grant my every birthday wish. And if you finish first—”
    â€œYou have to do whatever I ask,” I said, cutting him off.
    Jake laughed again. “Deal,” he said. “Sounds like I can’t lose either way.” He reached out a hand and we shook on it. My hand lingered in his. He pulled me forward and kissed the cream puff residue from my lips. It tasted even better than the puff itself.
    There was no better way to start the day. Except maybe waking up in Jake’s arms in a cozy bed-and-breakfast in the fall countryside.
    I peered out the window. “I better get back to the school bus. Looks like a line is starting to form. Time for another hectic day in the truck trenches. I hope that weekend in the country isn’t all work and no relaxation. I could really use some peace and quiet.”
    â€œI hope it
stays
quiet,” Jake said as I headed for the exit.
    I turned back. “What do you mean?”
    He shrugged. “I went online before I signed up to see what the Apple Fest is all about.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œSounds like not everything in