Nothing Bundt Love

by Samantha Lind

  “I’m here for at least the week. Figured if I was going to come back, I might as well make the most of my time.”

  “How nice; I’m sure your family is happy to finally have you back. It’s been what, eight, nine, no--ten years?” she asks pointedly.

  “About that,” I answer, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

  “Well, it’s good to see you; I must keep moving,” she says before giving my grandmother another hug and then disappearing into the crowd.

  “Something between the two of you I need to know about?” Grandmother asks.

  “Ummm, not that I know of. We were only ever friends,” I tell her honestly.

  “Mhmm, something tells me there were some stronger feelings way back when.”

  “I swear, nothing ever happened,” I tell her, holding up my hands as if to say, I surrender.

  “If you say so, but I still think there’s something more there. Maybe you should feel it out,” she encourages. She’s hounded me for the last five years, asking when I’m going to settle down. When I’m going to get married. When I’m going to give her great-grandkids.

  “Whatever you say, G-Ma.” I call her the nickname my cousins and I have been calling her since I was little.

  “Oh, there’s one of my book club friends!” she says, pointing across the room. “I’ll talk to you later.” She scurries off across the room, ready to greet her friends. I can’t help but smile at just how happy she is. As much as I dug my heels in about returning home, it is nice being back here again.

  4

  Harper

  I wipe down the counters, the morning rush has passed, and I can finally catch my breath and work on a batch of brownies for this afternoon. I prep two large pans, one with walnuts and one without. I’m always super-careful to avoid cross-contamination when we make baked goods with nuts, for anyone allergic.

  I hear the bells chime just as I’m sliding the pans into the ovens to bake for the next half hour. “Just a second, I’ll be right with you,” I call out to the customer.

  “No rush, take your time,” a sexy deep voice calls out, and I know immediately that it’s Nathan.

  “Hello again,” I greet him as I approach the counter.

  “Harper.” He smirks. “So, the bakery, huh?” He flashes me a smile, and the dimples that bracket his lips bring me back to when we were in high school and how I’d sit in class and daydream about him.

  “Yep,” I confirm like an idiot. I shake off the nerves his presence causes and straighten my spine slightly. “I took it over from my parents about eight years ago after my mom suffered a stroke. She wasn’t able to run it anymore, and Dad had to become her full-time caregiver. It was either I take over, or we close it down. I’d always planned to take over one day; I just never thought it’d be when I was twenty-one.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mom; how is she now?” he asks, and I can tell he’s actually interested in what I have to say.

  “Things are okay, not great, but not bad. We’ve all adjusted to her new normal. It was pretty stressful for the first year or two. She’s still partially paralyzed, which causes her to be pretty dependent on everyone else. We finally got approval from the insurance to help cover the cost of a health aide so that Dad has some help, since I can’t be there and here at the same time.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe that you have to fight to get that covered.”

  “Yeah.” I sigh, just thinking about those early days has my blood pressure rising. “Can I get you something?” I ask, changing the subject as I point toward one of the display cases filled with treats.

  “What is that amazing smell?” he asks as the smell of the brownies starts to fill the bakery.

  “Just our famous fudge brownies,” I tell him. I glance at my watch and the timer I set on it. I also have one set back on the oven, but I like to set the one on my watch in case I get busy and am not in the back when it goes off. “They’ll be out of the oven in about twenty more minutes, but will need to cool for at least ten minutes before I can cut and serve them,” I tell him.

  “Still your grandmother’s recipe?” he asks, and I can practically see him salivating over her brownies from our childhood.

  “Of course. Why change something that isn’t broken?”

  “Then I’ll take a coffee to hold me over until they are ready,” he states.

  “What size?” I ask as I move to the coffee station.

  “A large will be great, thanks,” he says, and I grab the cup and fill it up.

  “One large coffee,” I state as I hand it over. “Have a seat, and I’ll let you know when the brownies are ready.”

  “Do you have a few minutes? We can catch up while they bake?” He motions over his shoulder to one of the small two-person tables.

  There isn’t anyone else in here right now, and the ovens are full. I have a couple of cakes to make, but as long as I get them baked this afternoon, I’ll be fine.

  “I guess I can sit down for a few minutes,” I agree. I grab my tumbler with ice water and follow him to the table. I can’t help but watch his ass as he turns around. It is encased in his dark jeans perfectly. He’s sure filled out since high school.

  “So,” he says, a tad bit awkward, and it makes me smile. Brings me back to high school, once again.

  “So,” I parrot. “How’s California?” I ask.

  At the same time, Nathan asks, “Are you married? Sorry, go ahead.”

  “How’s California?” I repeat the question.

  “So very different than here.” He chuckles.

  “I can only imagine,” I reply. I’ve always wanted to travel, but time and money haven’t been on my side.

  “There are parts of it that are just breathtakingly beautiful, just as there are areas or things that aren’t. The traffic is horrible, but my commute to work isn’t bad,” he states, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips, which causes those deep dimples to tease their appearance.

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  “My office is on the thirty-ninth floor of the building I had built for my company. My penthouse is the fortieth floor. My commute consists of an elevator ride and a walk down a hallway to my office.”

  “Wow.” I can’t imagine what that is like. “And you’re where at in California?”

  “Silicon Valley,” he replies like I know where that is. He must see my confusion, as he quickly adds, “The San Francisco Bay area.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say. I’ve at least heard of that area and could probably pick it out on a map.

  We chat for a few more minutes until the buzzer in the kitchen, along with the one on my watch, starts going off. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I tell him as I push awayand head for the kitchen. I pull the large trays out, placing them on the cooling racks, and set another timer so that they aren’t cut too soon or too late. I busy myself around the kitchen, getting the batter going for the first cake I need to make, then into the pan before my timer is going off once again. Once I have the cake in the oven, I pull out my sheet pan-cutting device, which looks like an accordion with five pizza cutters on it, all evenly spaced out so that when we cut, each piece is the same size. I can pop the cutting blades off and adjust the device based on the size of the pan I’m using.

  I quickly make work of cutting the brownies before carrying the still-warm pans out to the display case. “Did you want one with or without nuts?” I ask over the top of the case once I have the pans in their place.

  “Without, thanks,” Nathan says. I slide the still-warm brownie onto a small plate, then realize I should have asked first if he wanted it to go.

  “Sorry, did you want that boxed to go?”

  “No, here is perfect,” he says as he slides his wallet out of his back pocket. I ring up his order, and he, once again, puts a tip almost as much as his total into the jar on the counter. “Join me again?” he asks.

  I worry my bottom lip; I’ve enjoyed getting to catch up the little amount of time we’ve been talking tod
ay, but I also have a laundry list of things I need to get done this afternoon, and I don’t have any help as it is Lacey’s day off. “I guess I can for a few more minutes, and then I have to get back to work. My boss is a real slave driver,” I joke with him, seeing as I’m my own boss.

  “I’m sure she is,” he muses, and those damn dimples flash in their full glory. My stomach tightens, and I can feel the butterflies fluttering around.

  “What about your boss? He pretty demanding?”

  “He’s the biggest asshole.” He chuckles. “Has no care for work-life balances. Thinks I should be at work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

  “That is an asshole.” I laugh as we both over-exaggerate.

  I watch as Nathan takes a large bite of the warm brownie. My panties practically melt off at the moan that escapes his lips as he savors the bite. If a chocolatey treat gets that kind of response, I can only imagine what an orgasm would get. I can feel my cheeks redden at the dirty thoughts that fill my mind; I only hope he doesn’t notice and ask me why I’m blushing. I guess my battery-operated boyfriend hasn’t been keeping up with the job as well as I thought it was, as I’m finding myself very needy around Nathan, and I have no desire to explain that to him.

  The bells above the door chime, and I jump up to help the incoming customer.

  “Well, well. Look who the cat dragged in,” Nathan’s grandmother, Betsy, says as she sees him at the table I’ve just vacated. His mom, Tina, also accompanies her mother into the bakery.

  “G-Ma,” he greets, coming over to give both his grandmother and mom a hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “Fancy finding you here.” Betsy smirks. I’m trying not to listen in on their conversation, but it’s a little hard not to when it is quiet in here, other than what she’s saying.

  “Just enjoying a coffee and a brownie,” he tells her.

  “I’m sure you are,” she muses.

  “What can I get you today, Betsy?” I ask, interrupting and pulling everyone’s attention in my direction.

  “I’ll take what he’s got. Plus, one of those cherry pies you’ve got in the case.”

  “Of course, do you want some coffee to go with your brownie?” I ask as I hand over the small dessert plate. I box up the pie, placing it on the counter.

  “Of course,” she agrees. I dish up Tina’s selection, as well, before ringing everything up. Nathan steps forward, sliding cash across the counter to me before his grandmother or mom can pay themselves.

  “My treat today,” he tells them both, flashing me a wink.

  “Why, such the gentleman. I guess you did good, Tina,” Betsy tells her daughter.

  “Thanks, Mom.” She laughs as she takes a seat at the second small table that Nathan moved to be next to the one we’d used, to make room for the additional people.

  Once they all are settled at the table, I slip away into the back. I need to get the second cake mixed up and ready for the oven while the first one finishes baking. I keep an eye on them, making sure they don’t need me for anything while I’m back here. Once the second cake is in the oven and I’ve got my timers set, I head back out to the front, helping another couple of customers that come in, then.

  It’s a good hour later when Tina and Betsy finally leave; I’m a little surprised Nathan doesn’t follow them out of the bakery.

  “Working up an appetite for another sugar rush?” I tease.

  “Not today, but before I leave, I did want to ask you to dinner tonight,” he states, and I’m almost caught off guard. Now, his lingering presence makes more sense.

  I’ve enjoyed catching up with him and don’t see any harm in doing the same over some dinner. “Sure, I close at four and would need to run home to shower and change, first, but can be ready by six,” I tell him.

  “That’s perfect. Where do you live? I can pick you up,” he offers.

  I rattle off my address; it’s a newer development of smaller starter homes that have only been around for the last few years. I explain how to get there, also knowing that he can just plug the address into his GPS, and it will give him the directions.

  “It’s a date,” I state, then blush at the implication that my statement implies.

  “That it is.” He confirms, “I’ll see you at six sharp.”

  Nathan winks, flashing me those damn dimples, which, once again, cause the butterflies in my stomach to take flight and my core to clench. What in the hell is this man doing to me? I need to get some control, or I’m never going to make it through dinner tonight. I need to keep a level head going into tonight. He doesn’t live here; this is the first time he’s been back in ten years. Who’s to say it won’t be another ten years before he returns again.

  5

  Nathan

  I step out of the shower, drying off before I wrap the towel around my waist. I walk to the sink and pull out my shaving cream and razor. I haven’t been on a date in months, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten how to get ready for one, especially if the woman I’m finally taking out for a date is the one woman I’ve had a crush on for years. If there is anyone besides my grandmother that could bring me back home, it might just be Harper.

  I trim up the beard. I like keeping it nice and tidy but not completely bare-faced. I’ve found that most women like a little scruff, and I don’t mind not having to shave every day because of it.

  With my beard trimmed up, I finish up in the bathroom, brushing my teeth.

  I pull on some jeans and a polo. We’re in the mountains; getting dressed up here consists of new wranglers, some cowboy boots, and a button-up shirt. I’m almost overdressed for tonight, but it’s what I’ve got.

  I step back into the bathroom, spray on some cologne, and double-check that I look put together and not as nervous as I’m really feeling. I still can’t quite believe that I’m going on a date with Harper Taylor.

  Before I can slip my phone into my back pocket, it starts ringing and vibrating on the bed. I grab it, looking at the screen before swiping to answer.

  “Good afternoon, Leo. What’s going on?” I ask my best friend and business partner.

  “Just checking in, seeing how things are going and if you’re ready to escape yet.”

  “Things are going just fine. I’m actually headed out on a date in a few minutes.”

  “You’re what?” he asks, obviously confused and a tad bit shocked.

  “I’ve reconnected with a friend from high school. I’m on my way to pick her up, and we’re going out to dinner.”

  “Don’t forget to wrap it up.” He chuckles into the line.

  “It’s not like that,” I tell him, almost having to grit my teeth so I don’t bite his head off for making a comment like that about her. I know I haven’t kept in touch with Harper over the last ten years, but I know deep down that she isn’t the one-night stand kind of girl. She isn’t out there sleeping with just anyone that looks at her.

  “Okay, well, enjoy your date. Things are still going fine here at the office, so take your time. We’ve got everything handled.”

  “I still plan to fly back this weekend,” I state.

  “Sounds good, but if something changes, just let me know. You deserve some time off, and I can handle anything that comes up.”

  “I know you can,” I tell him. I switch over to speaker and toss my phone onto the bed so I can slide my belt through the loops of my jeans. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can catch up and go over a few things.”

  “If you want, or like I said, I can handle things here without you. Maybe you need to unplug from reality. Go get laid, get lost in the woods, do something other than work for once in your life,” Leo hounds.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, to appease him for the moment.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he says before disconnecting the call. If there’s anyone that knows how my mind operates, it is Leo.

  We met at freshman orientation, both wide-eyed and so out of our respective elements—both nerds to the
core. We bonded over computer code and our freshman class schedules. That friendship has lasted the past ten years and seen us through the start-up of a very successful business, taking both of us from low to middle-class upbringings to billionaires overnight. When we received the offer to sell the first app we’d created, it was life-changing. We could have retired that day and never gone another day in our lives wanting for anything. Thankfully, we’re so alike it is scary sometimes, and we both wanted to continue to work. Continue to learn and develop new things.

  I finally make it out to the truck I’m driving while here. It is my granddad’s old truck. The one I learned to drive in all those years ago. I’m glad my parents never got rid of it after he passed away when I was a junior in high school.

  I pull up the GPS on my phone and enter Harper’s address. It looks simple enough to get to, but she’s right that I don’t know the area, as it was all fields the last time I was here.

  I make it across the small town of Sweet Valley in about ten minutes. It would take me probably ninety minutes to drive the same distance back home with all the traffic. I pull into the neighborhood and can immediately tell why Harper likes it here. It looks like the perfect little street. Cute little houses, with their welcoming colors, nice, manicured lawns, kids playing, dogs barking as a few adults walk down the sidewalk with them on leashes.

  My phone alerts that I’ve reached my destination, so I pull into the drive that is marked with Harper’s address. Her house is a deep red wine color with white trim that pops out at me. The lawn almost looks fake with how green and perfectly manicured it is.

  I cut the engine and grab the flowers I’d picked up earlier. I take one last look in the rearview mirror, to make sure I didn’t somehow miss a speck of something the other hundred times I checked myself in the mirror. Finding that I, in fact, don’t have something stuck in my teeth, I slide from the truck and walk the short distance to the porch. I climb the steps, skipping the middle one on my way up. I reach for the buzzer just as the door swings open. Harper is standing there in all her beautiful glory. She’s changed since I saw her at the bakery earlier, and is now in a flowy top and shorts, with her hair down, cascading around her shoulders. I’ve never had the desire to run my fingers through a woman’s hair until now.