A Love So Sweet

By B.K. Ricotta

Entrepreneur Kathleen Newman struggles toward her dream of selling her special cheesecakes. Pig farmer Jeffrey Dikes has a big secret--he's actually a millionaire. Together, they must navigate their undeniable attraction while caring for Jeff's feisty, wheelchair-bound mom, a precious toddler, and a pet pig named Petunia. Are their differences a recipe for disaster? Or can they push past a sour first meeting to find that trusting each other can be the sweetest gift of all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Mar 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509234660

B.K. Ricotta

A former nurse midwife and deputy sheriff, Brenda Ray is a retired nursing professor. She is busy creating the next great story, but when not writing, she may be reading, traveling, or quilting. She is the mother of three wonderful sons, three grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. She is married and the mom to two furry four-legged kids, Mikey, a sweet Maltese and Haley, a loving, but feisty Wire Fox Terrier. She resides in Vero Beach, FL.

Book preview

Inc.

I love creating chocolate and dessert. That’s my passion. I like eating them, too, but I must be careful. They are rich. At any rate, bookkeeping is a necessary evil at this point in my life, but I’m not complaining. It’s a good job, and I work with a nice group of people.

Looking at her, a love of desserts didn’t show. He liked the high-heeled, calf-skin boots, too. Kind of sassy. Her ring finger was bare, but of course, that didn’t mean anything these days.

Jeff picked up the cheesecake. Well, thanks again for taking care of Teddy. His mother and I appreciate it.

As they turned to leave, she called out, Tarzan, you hold tight to your daddy’s hand. It’s a jungle out there.

Jeff almost kept going, but some force in him wouldn’t let it pass. He couldn’t resist. He stopped and turned slightly, letting go of Teddy’s hand and meeting the woman’s gaze. I’m not his papa, ma’am. I’m his godfather and his uncle. Jeff gifted her with his most devastating smile, then tipped his hat and winked before walking away.

Outside, in the warm morning sun, Jeff couldn’t help himself. He laughed aloud, drawing a puzzled expression from Teddy. The look on her face had been worth its weight in gold—like a cat that had just lost the mouse—and couldn’t figure out how it’d happened.

A Love So Sweet

by

B. K. Ricotta

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

A Love So Sweet

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by B. K. Ricotta

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Abigail Owen

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2021

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3466-0

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

For Di

Chapter 1

Well, the Alvin, Texas, Frontier Days wasn’t the most glamorous place to showcase gourmet cheesecakes, but it was a start, and the overhead was affordable. Every penny Kathleen Newman earned this weekend would go into savings for her business—her dream. If all went well, in two years, she’d have enough to open a modest shop, quit her bookkeeping job at Friendswood Commerce Bank, and do what she loved—make decadent, scrumptious desserts.

Kathleen plucked a crumb off the paper doily framing her most requested creation—chocolate-fudge-swirl cheesecake. She topped the cake with three chocolate curls and a fat, juicy strawberry, and then placed it in the display cooler facing the concession tent’s sawdust aisle.

Next, she cut a slice of Amaretto cheesecake into bite-size samples, speared them with toothpicks, and set the plate on the cooler’s top, covering it with a clear plastic dome. One bite, and the potential customers would be hooked. That’s what all her friends told her, anyway. So far, they’d been right. Every business or restaurant owner she approached gave her rave reviews. She was most excited by an upcoming appointment with a large, upscale Mexican restaurant in Houston. Unfortunately, most restaurants purchased mass-produced desserts from food suppliers, which proved to be a barrier to sales, thus far.

She understood their position, but if one large chain gave her a chance, she would have her foot in the door. According to trusted friends and advisers, word would spread like wildfire if given one good customer. At twenty-four, she realized she was still young, but her drive was strong, and she knew what she wanted. And despite friends needling her about finding someone, she knew she had plenty of time for that. After cleaning the preparation table, she checked the refrigerator temperature where she kept her stock of cheesecake in the back of the booth. Having it up against the canvas wall of the vendors’ tent made it most at risk for getting too warm, given there was only soft fabric walls between the refrigerator and muggy air outside.

She hovered there, bent forward, her face partially in the door of the cooler for a moment, enjoying the cold air wafting from the unit. Although this April morning had started out cool, it was already promising to be another sticky, humid day. She swiped away an errant strand of her shoulder-length hair and captured it in her barrette, grateful she chose a skirt today instead of jeans.

As she knelt forward, the refreshing cold on her face, a faint sniffling somewhere nearby caught her attention. She listened for a moment, trying to identify the sound. Curious, Kathleen stood and closed the cooler door, then turned and walked to the front of her kiosk. Through the display case’s distorted glass, a child’s small form came into view—a very small child. Kathleen walked around the back of the cooler and, as she turned the corner, there he was—Mr. Sniffles.

The little guy held a tattered stuffed lamb tightly in his chubby arms. Not more than three years old, he wore the smallest overalls Kathleen thought she had ever seen. He was also, without a doubt, the dirtiest child she’d ever seen. Heavens! His tiny tennis shoes were covered in something whose origin Kathleen didn’t even want to speculate on. What had possibly once been a green t-shirt now looked tie-dyed brown. A wide swath of what she hoped was mud ran across his left cheek. Had he been rolling in dirt? Eating it?

Wide, frightened brown eyes looked up at her. Oh, God! Where was his mother? Kathleen scanned the tent. At this early hour, the sawdust aisle was pretty much empty. Nearby vendors were busy preparing for the rodeo’s liveliest day that would start within the hour. I don’t have time for this.

The little boy shuddered, and another sniffle echoed in the tent.

Kathleen edged around the corner of the counter.

He stood firmly planted in front of her confectionery case, large tears forming a muddy path down his cheeks. Once-blond hair capped a pitiful face. Huge, fawn-like eyes watched, full of trepidation. When she took a step, he looked from side to side as if ready to bolt.

I can’t let him run away. He’s already lost. For a moment, Kathleen wished she’d paid more attention to her Family Living teacher in high school when they studied childrearing. Instead, she’d daydreamed about Tommy Loftin, the basketball star, and her fantasy of owning a dessert shop. She’d been in love with that idea since her father took the family to Paris on a holiday when she was a child. The holiday from their duty station in Germany cemented her desire to bake, though at that age she understood little about how her vision would grow through the years.

Now, faced with this new dilemma, something foreign to her, she decided to follow her instincts. A lost child in a large crowd spelled trouble. Thoughts of child traffickers sent a chill up her spine. Even without that danger, the grounds were packed with pens of bulls and large animals, some very deadly if a child got underfoot. She had to find a way to help him.

Kathleen stooped to eye level in front of the boy. Hey, buddy. What are all those tears for?

He answered with a loud wail that echoed through the tent. Mr. Sniffles squeezed his lamb all the harder while great, racking sobs jarred his small frame, his previously controlled fear now opening into a floodgate of pure panic. He looked around frantically, fear in his eyes.

Oh, God! What was she going to do? What if someone thought she had hurt the boy?

Kathleen looked over at Mr. Bogdanski, the Polish baker. Maybe he could help.

He peeked over his cash register at her as he rang up a rodeo cowboy’s coffee and sausage kolache.

The cowboy turned his head and looked back at Kathleen, then down at the source of the crying.

Mr. Bogdanski merely shrugged and went back to his task.

The cowboy’s attention turned back to his purchase.

Kathleen’s heart sank. So much for help! Okay, Kathleen. Get a grip.

Staying calm was supposed to soothe children, wasn’t it? Well, it was worth a try. Smiling at the waif and making eye contact, in her most tranquil voice, Kathleen crooned, It’s okay. Whatever the problem is, we can fix it. Are you lost?

What Kathleen thought was a cough grew from the child’s throat, building into another loud wail that pierced the morning air.

What would people think? The cry sounded like she was hurting him. All she tried to do was help him.

Maybe there was someone else here who knew more about kids.

The lady from Arizona, selling turquoise jewelry across the wide aisle, peeked from around her concession. She surveyed Kathleen and the child, then just as quickly disappeared back behind her velvet-lined display case.

Really? Again?

The boy swiped the back of his grimy hand across a wet cheek, smearing dirt and tears, now mixing with his runny nose.

Yuck!

Did all small children leak this much? Kathleen had never been around little ones much and knew very little about them. Her life as an only child, and moving so often, offered