She poked him in the chest, then swung her ax. “I hope someone strings you up by the balls and leaves you for vultures to feast on.”

She moved past him, threw open the door, and left.

“So is that a yes?” he asked and finished his wine.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

The next morning, Tessa went to work with a massive, hammering headache. Last night, the wine had been too good, and the company…well, it had been fine until Leo suggested they get married.

Leo Castorini had unique ideas—that was for sure.

He was an innovator, just as he’d been in high school. Like the time he’d used real bakeries for the senior class bake sale fundraiser, ran a social-media campaign, and ended up raising ten thousand dollars for Riley Children’s Hospital in Indianapolis.

But this idea was…outrageous.

On top of her throbbing head, she remembered the extra upkeep money she did not have. She’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t kick them out of the bakery. But charge interest? Of course he would, and he’d do it with a smile on his gorgeous, infuriating face. She resolved to call twenty-five more places to sell their bread as soon as this headache was gone.

Marry him. Ridiculous! There had to be a better way.

Suddenly the bell above the door tinkled. Her younger sister, Juliet, whose long red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, practically bounced as she burst excitedly in.

“I think Jax is going to pop the question,” she said excitedly, stretching out her arm and wiggling her bare fingers. “As soon as I’m done with work, I’m getting a test manicure so I can pick the best ring-ready color. Tessa, want to come?” Juliet didn’t seem to notice her startled expression. “Is that coffee?”

Juliet’s off-again, on-again relationship with Jax had taken one too many runs through the roller coaster, in Tessa’s opinion. Tessa didn’t get how she could be a tough, kick-butt marriage counselor yet put up with Jax. Case in point: What kind of boyfriend made you take your shoes off before you get into his 1970 Firebird, which he probably spent more time with than her?

“We had a little spat, but we talked that through, and things are amazing now.”

Was this what being a parent was like? Like endlessly banging your head against a wall? Also, two weeks of not talking and many shed tears on Juliet’s part did seem to merit a stronger word than spat.