Thankfully, by now I’ve gotten really good with these roses, so despite the fact that I’m flustered, I’m able to pin it on quickly with a steady hand.
“Thank you, Maddy.”
“You’re welcome.” Matt’s back up on his feet, smiling down at me, and for some reason, my belly feels like something’s inside doing flips.
I turn and walk away, my cheeks burning in frustration.
I don’t want my belly to be doing flip-flops over any of the Harding brothers. They don’t deserve it, and surely I should have learned my lesson. I wasted so many years thinking about them way too much. I had school girl crushes on each of them at various times, and often on more than one of them at the same time. I wrote their names in my notebooks and indulged in daydreams about a wedding just like this, only with me marrying one of them.
There were times when I desperately wanted their attention and other times when I wished they would leave me alone. Having anything to do with them was all a waste of time, and surely I haven’t forgotten that.
On my way back to Mom, I indulge in a runaway bride fantasy. Maybe she’ll change her mind about all this, and we can flee the scene, leaving Mr. Harding at the altar, and fixing things so I never have to see any of his sons ever again.
My eyes find the blue horizon again, and I take a few deep breaths to reset. This day is about Mom’s happiness. The love between her and Mike is unmistakable, and of course, I want them to be happy. I can process my complicated thoughts later or just shove them aside because thoughts and memories of the Harding brothers are not worth my time.
5
The icy chill
I enjoy every part of working at the bakery. I never knew how happy I could be to make a cake, pie, or even just a basic batch of chocolate chip cookies. I’m thankful that the shop doesn’t typically carry doughnuts. I definitely need a break from doughnuts.
It’s been just two days since Mom left for her honeymoon and so far things are going smoothly. Lonnie’s here with me during the hours the shop is open to the public. There are locals who come in daily for coffee and morning pastries. Then there are bread and pie orders, and cakes for special occasions.
Business is steady but not too challenging. I may not have opportunities to make some of the fancier stuff I learned at culinary school, but it’s satisfying to mix batters, pastry dough, and icings from scratch rather than all of the premade processed garbage I had to work with at the doughnut chain.
Around mid-morning, I hear a familiar voice talking with Lonnie up front. Shortly after, there’s a knock on the open door leading to my kitchen.
“Anybody home?”
“Lacy! Come on in.”
My friend drops her purse on a stool and hurries over to me, her long blond curls bobbing behind her. She gives me a tight hug despite the fact that I’m wearing a flour-covered apron. “I’ve missed you!”
“You too,” I say. “How are you?”
“Good, I’m good. How was the wedding? I heard it was lovely.”
“It was. It was very nice. Mom was so happy.”
“I’ll bet. Mike Harding was the island’s elusive silver fox. Single women have been after him for the past twenty years.”
“Huh. Really?”
“Oh yeah. Of course, he’s lucky to marry your mom. Who wouldn’t want that woman making apple fritters for them for the rest of their life?” As we laugh together, she adds, “Speaking of apple fritters…did she stock up the bakery before she went away?”
“You do know I can make them, too, right?”
She gives me a skeptical look. “Are they as good as your mom’s?”
“You’ll have to judge for yourself. Let’s see if we have any left.” I lead her up front to check out the case. The lobby is empty except for Lonnie who’s wiping the self-service coffee counter. “You’re in luck. There’s one left. Should I wrap it to go, or will you devour it now?”
“Are you kidding?” She stretches out her hand and wiggles her fingers. “Hand that baby over!”
“Wow, you have it bad, girl!”
As Lacy is taking her first bite and making a face that looks like she’s about to orgasm, a familiar truck pulls up in front of the shop.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes.
“What?” Lacy follows my gaze out the window and looks back at me, confused. Before she can ask any questions, Josh and Jake walk in, the bell on the door suddenly sounding ominous instead of pleasant.
“Lacy. Maddy. How are you both doing on this fine day?” Josh says. Jake, who always was the quieter one, simply gives us each a nod.
After the wedding, it’s odd now to see them back in jeans and t-shirts; Josh in light blue and Jake in black. I look away as soon as I catch myself noticing how their short shirt sleeves stretch over their identically broad biceps.
“Good, Josh. How are you?” Lacy’s voice has turned to molasses, sweeter and thicker than it was a moment ago.
“Fine, fine,” he says, giving her one of his grins that make a person feel like they’re the only thing in the world that matters. After a long moment, he turns to me. “Maddy, how are things going?”
“Fine.”
“Are things running smoothly with your mom away?”
I frown. “Are you checking up on me?”
“No,” he says with a chuckle. “We were driving by and had the idea that it would be nice to have a tray of cookies out in our shop’s waiting area.”
“Also, I could go for an apple fritter,” Jake says as he peers into the case.
“Sorry, Jake. I got the last one.” Lacy wiggles the half-eaten pastry in his direction. “Wanna share?”
He gives her a grin before continuing to check out what remains of the day’s selection.
I start toward the kitchen door. “Lonnie? Can you get them whatever they need?” I don’t wait for her answer before returning to my work. I wash my hands with the water on full blast, then I hum something with no melody and mostly manage to ignore the murmur of conversation out front as Lonnie gets things together for the twins and Lacy giggles and teases them.
At last, the door chimes again and Lacy joins me a moment later. “What was that all about?”
“What do you mean?” I answer her distractedly as I reread the order in front of me for the fourth time.
She rubs her bare arms and inclines her head toward the front. “I needed a sweater for the icy chill out there.”
I shrug. “I don’t know what you mean. I had to get back to check on the cake in the oven.”
She glances at the timer, which shows twenty-five minutes remaining, and raises a brow. “I know you didn’t get along with them when you were younger. Are things still weird between you?”
“They’re jerks, that’s all.”
Lacy frowns. “I’m really surprised to hear that. Sure, they could be idiots in school, most of the boys were. But they’ve grown into good men. All of the Harding brothers are well-liked and well-respected on the island.”
I huff. “People don’t change.”
6
Take no for an answer
Later in the week, I’m in the front of the bakery while Lonnie takes a morning coffee break in the back. The aroma from three apple pies in the oven has just begun to waft into the lobby, mingling nicely with the spicy, yeasty scent of the cinnamon rolls I made earlier in the day.
I bake all day and relax by myself in the quiet peacefulness of my childhood home all evening. In between, I sometimes take a long walk on the beach. Life is sweet. I haven’t missed the city at all.
I’m rearranging the trays in the case when the door chimes. The man who enters is wearing khakis, a white button-down shirt, and extremely clean loafers. He looks like a salesman, not as casual-looking as most of our usual clientele.
Customers’ eyes usually cut straight down to the bakery case, but this man’s gaze lingers on mine after I greet him, and he gives me a slow smile. “I’ve never seen you here bef
ore,” he says.
“I’m usually in the back. I’m the baker.”
His eyebrows lift. “What happened to Jennifer?”
I’m surprised he knows my mom’s name. He doesn’t look like a local, and if he were, he’d most likely be tuned into the island gossip, and know my mom was on her honeymoon. “I’m Jennifer’s daughter. I’ve taken over the shop for now.”
“Ahh, I see.” His eyes finally leave mine for a brief perusal of the case between us. “It looks like you’re well suited for the job.”
“I hope so,” I say. “What would you like to try?”
Again his eyes meet and hold mine for a long beat, so long that they seem to answer my question with an unspoken flirty reply. Finally, he says, “What do you recommend?”
“That depends. What do you like?”
He’s quick with his response. “Brown-eyed girls who know how to frost a cupcake.”
His delivery is so over-the-top flirty that I bust out laughing and am pleased when he joins me. My eyes always water when I laugh hard, and I’m wiping a tear away when the door chimes again.
Adam Harding strides in, his expression changing from pleasant, to irritated, to concerned. “Maddy, what’s going on? Are you alright?” He pushes right up to the counter, nudging the flirty stranger to the side.
I straighten and stop laughing immediately. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Is this guy bothering you?” He narrows his eyes at the customer.
“Not at all. Settle down.”
Adam glares at the man and then looks back at me, his jaw tight. The loafer guy excuses himself and turns toward the coffee station.
“What do you want?” I ask Adam in a low tone.
He turns toward the other man one more time as if making sure he’s behaving himself, then looks back at me, his eyes searching my face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I lose all patience and practically growl at him through clenched teeth. “Adam, what do you want?”
He straightens and grins, running his hand along the edge of the counter as if smoothing it out. I try not to notice the muscles flexing under the dark hairs on his forearm. “I came to invite you to dinner,” he says, turning his dark eyes on me.
Huh. Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I stare back at him blankly. Is he inviting me out on a date? It sounds like it, but that can’t be right. Even if by some crazy turn of events Adam is interested in me, I’ve surely given him absolutely no indication that I am interested in him.
Then I remember Josh and Jake’s visit to the bakery earlier in the week and I figure out what’s going on. Their dad must have told them to check on me. Maybe my mom even asked them to check in, though I hope she has more faith in me than that.
Maybe my mom thinks I might be lonely or bored – I am neither – and asked the Harding brothers to keep me company. That’s a big no, thank you.
“No, thanks,” I say aloud.
Adam looks confused as if no woman has ever said no to him before. Considering the way he looks, I may very well be the first. “Are you busy?”
Loafer guy is making his way back toward the counter and I jump at sudden inspiration. It shouldn’t be so hard for a man to take no for an answer, but every woman knows they accept rejection much easier when they think another man already has a “claim” on a woman.
“I already have dinner plans… with him.” I gesture toward the other man.
“Who?”
As Adam turns, loafer guy steps up. “Me. She’s going to dinner with me.”
Thank you, I tell him with my eyes.
Adam looks between us, back and forth. “Alright. Okay then. See you around.” He looks like he wants to say a lot more, but thankfully he leaves the shop.
When I see that Adam is backing out of the lot, I turn to loafer guy. “Thank you for covering for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t have to do that, and I appreciate it.”
“You are going to dinner with me, though, aren’t you?” He tilts his head, grins at me, and looks adorable. I didn’t notice earlier how blue his eyes are.
“Hmmm. I guess I am.”
7
Am I being paranoid?
Loafer guy’s name is Clay, and unfortunately, he turns out to be somewhat less charming than his first impression led me to believe. He’s fine. I can’t say there’s anything wrong with him, but from the start of our date I know I’m not feeling any feels.
I meet him at a casual but very popular seafood restaurant on the island. During drinks – him a beer and me a sweet tea – I learn that he’s six years older than me. During the crab dip we share for an appetizer I find out that he doesn’t live on Four Points but he works at the vacation rental agency just up the road from the bakery, and that he comes in several times a week for coffee and pastries.
While we eat our fried fish platters, I hear way more about his job than I care to know. Some stories are mildly interesting, like how some vacationers have partied hard and trashed their beach house in a week’s time, but most of the details he shares are routine and boring.
It’s no wonder that my mind wanders over to an alternate universe where I said yes to Adam’s invitation. What would it have been like to be on a date with him? Somehow, I know I wouldn’t have been bored in his company.
Then I remember that he wasn’t really asking me out on a date. I was an errand given to him by his dad or my mom, and what fun would that have been, to go to dinner with someone as an obligation they have to fulfill?
“Would you believe some prime properties are completely booked up three years in advance?” Clay says.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, but of course many of the less popular homes can be booked on short notice.”
I nod and smile and over Clay’s shoulder, my eye catches sight of familiar faces. Josh and Matt approach the bar in the far corner. Matt’s gaze scans the room, while Josh is smiling at everyone he passes, hugging a few women and clapping all of the men on their backs. Matt has a few words with the bartender and then both brothers turn and survey the restaurant.
I quickly return my focus to Clay, who has stopped talking to finish the last few fries on his plate.
“Do you go to the beach often?” I ask, purposely brightening my smile.
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m not a beach person. I don’t like sand.”
My eyes widen and then my brow furrows. I don’t even know how to respond to that.
When my focus slips back to the bar, I find Josh and Matt openly staring at me, their expressions serious. They don’t bother to look away when I meet their eyes; they continue to stare, even as Josh leans over to say something to his brother.
I narrow my eyes and glare back at them for a long moment before returning once again to Clay. “What do you like to do for fun?” I’ve been the one asking all of the questions tonight. Clay hasn’t tried to learn much about me.
“I play poker with my friends once a week, and on the weekends I do woodworking.”
Oh my. I really don’t want to hear about the minutiae of woodcraft, especially when I’m still absorbing all of the details involved in running a rental agency. As I discreetly signal the waitress for the bill, I notice Josh and Matt leaving the restaurant with bags of carryout. Was it just a coincidence that they were here or did Adam tell them I had a date and they saw my car out front? Am I being paranoid?
“Want anything else?” The waitress gives me a little wink as she hovers the bill over the table.
“Dessert?” Clay asks.
“No, thanks. I make desserts all day, and it’s been a long week.” Forcing a yawn, I add, “I’d really better get home.”
“I’ll leave this here,” the waitress says.
When Clay reaches for it, I protest. “I’ll get it. The date was my idea, after all.”
“Don’t be silly. I got it.”
He gives me a grin that reminds me of the charm he showed at the bake
ry. He’s a great-looking guy. Maybe I’m just not in the mood for dating yet, having just upended my life to move back home. Maybe I need to get settled a bit more before I can focus on romance.
I give him a smile. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
Clay settles up and walks me to my car where we face that awkward end-of-date moment. After a bit of small talk, he decides to go in for a kiss but I turn at the last minute so that he connects with my cheek instead of my lips.
Back at home, I waste no time taking off my dress and bra and changing into comfy yoga pants and an old t-shirt.
Mom has Netflix and premium cable channels – minor luxuries that I couldn’t afford when I had city rent to pay – so I settle in for a night of binge-watching.
I’m still scrolling through menus and deciding whether I’m in the mood for comedy or drama when I’m startled by a knock at the front door.
8
Deep and delicious
It's nearly ten o’clock – too late for someone to show up without calling first. Unfortunately, the front door doesn’t have a peephole like my apartment did. It would really come in handy right now.
Then I remember that I can check the driveway through the side window. Why am I not surprised when I see two familiar pickup trucks parked there? Two!
The bubble of fear I had from the unexpected knock bursts into a blaze of anger. Why won’t they leave me alone?
I twist the latch and fling open the door. “What are you doing here?”
All four Harding brothers are standing out front and all of them appear to be startled by my sudden appearance. They’re so surprised that they don’t speak, not even Josh.
“Well? What do you want?”
Adam recovers first. “Hello, Madison. How are you this fine evening?” His tone is one of exaggerated friendliness as if I didn’t just bite off all of their heads.
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