Free Doing It Over (A Most Likely to Novel Book 1) by Catherine Bybee Page B

a three-course meal and sold tickets as a fundraiser. Once word got out about her culinary talents, people started driving in from forty miles away and paid forty bucks a plate.”
    “That’s impressive,” Wyatt said. “You should stick around. We could use another pole vault pit.”
    “We?” Melanie asked.
    “I help coach at the high school,” he said.
    “Really? Zoe, Jo, and I were all on the track team.”
    Wyatt wiped cookie crumbs off his chin. Out of habit, Melanie handed him a napkin.
    “I think I remember Jo mentioning that.”
    “Yeah, Jo was a sprinter, Zoe here did the mile, and I was the vaulter.”
    “Hence the pole vault pit,” Zoe added.
    Hope and Samuel scrambled off the kitchen stools. “We’re going back outside.”
    “Go on.”
    “I keep trying to get our sheriff to coach. Lord knows she keeps bringing me kids.”
    Zoe and Melanie started to laugh.
    “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Zoe said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Sheriff Ward, her dad . . . he did that all the time. Someone got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing . . . he gave them an option. Join track or handcuffs.”
    Wyatt glanced between the two of them. “And what did you two get caught doing?”
    Melanie and Zoe exchanged glances.
    “It wasn’t us. We were there supporting our friend,” Zoe offered.
    It took a few seconds for Wyatt to catch on. “Jo?”
    Melanie snapped her lips together. “I’ll never tell.”
    Zoe lifted her little finger in the air, and Mel took hold with hers. The not-so-secret handshake of sorts still held.
    “It’s a daily education with you in town,” he said.
    Zoe pushed away from the counter and opened the fridge. “You kids get out of here. I have stuff to do.”
    “Stuff?” Melanie asked.
    “Yeah . . . I need to remind Miss Gina how this is done.” Zoe waved them away. “When is she coming back?”
    “Dinner. She suggested I invite you over.”
    Zoe snorted. “I bet. Sneaky bitch.”
    When Zoe started muttering and filling her arms with onions, tomatoes, and some kind of cheese, Mel backed away. “I need my knives.” Zoe dumped the ingredients on the counter and disappeared out the front door.
    Wyatt started to say something but the words didn’t articulate before Zoe marched back inside, a black bag in her hands. “What are you two still doing in here? I’d put you to work, but I don’t need a hammer for dinner . . . and Melanie, bless her, is useless.”
    “Hey, I manage.”
    Zoe snorted before turning away. “And take those cookies to the parlor. I’m sure Miss Gina already has a plate ready.” Another muttered sneaky bitch left Zoe’s lips as Melanie and Wyatt left the room.
    The noise generated by Hurricane Zoe drifted the farther they moved away from the kitchen.
    “Is she always like that?” Wyatt asked.
    “Only when she cooks,” Mel told him.
    In the parlor, a crystal serving tray sat empty. A small piece of paper sat to the side. Crafted in calligraphy were the words Compliments of Chef Brown .
    “Oh, she’s good.” Wyatt snaked one last cookie and waved it in the air.
    “What are you doing here, anyway?”
    “Finishing up the roof. Bathroom still needs work.”
    Melanie froze. “You didn’t leave the ladder—”
    “I learned that lesson. The ladder is still on my truck. I smelled these before I could set up.”
    “Zoe’s cooking is a beacon.” She finished setting out the cookies, had to tilt her head to catch Wyatt’s gaze. His eyes wandered to her lips.
    “A beacon,” he repeated.
    When she bit her lip, Wyatt looked away and stepped back. “I guess I should . . .”
    “You probably should,” she agreed, though she enjoyed the heat he generated in her belly.
    He took three steps before turning back. “I hear you’re thinking of sticking around for a while.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Small town. News travels fast.” He was smiling.
    She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m considering