As he leaned down to kiss her, he added, “The man who loves you.”
~~
Sweet Serendipity
By Elena Gray
The comforting smell of cinnamon and apples warmed Gwen Palmer’s heart. It brought to mind childhood memories of baking apple tarts with her grandmother. Lazy Saturday afternoons spent in her sunlit kitchen, arm deep in flour. In honor of her grandmother’s memory, Gwen opened her bakery named after her grandma’s favorite saying, The Flaky Tart. Now others would have comfort foods to turn to when their lives sucked. Like hers.
Gwen pressed the last pink heart onto the frosted glass of the front window. She stepped down from the stool and surveyed the room. Each table hosted an original handcrafted heart from the local preschool. White and pink satin bows draped the backs of wrought iron chairs. Hot pink cellophane bags of sugar cookies lined the counter, ready to be purchased.
An icy blast of air hit Gwen in the back. She tugged her sleeves down and rubbed her arms. A heavier sweater might have been a smarter choice today. In about a half hour, the door would remain pretty much open as a steady stream of customers filed through.
She turned to find Mrs. Haverty crossing the threshold. The closed sign fluttered until it finally settled into the open position. Gwen smiled as she shot a glance at the clock on the wall. Right on time.
Bundled into an oversized faux fur coat, hat slightly askew, Mrs. Haverty wiggled her fingers hello as she bustled to the counter where her steaming latte waited for her.
Inhaling the steam, the older woman released a sigh. “Good morning, dear.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Haverty.” Stepping behind the counter Gwen lifted a freshly baked muffin out of the display case. “I added something extra to the banana nut muffins.” Setting it on a brightly colored plate, she pushed it toward Mrs. Haverty. “Let me know what you think.”
Winking, Mrs. Haverty shrugged out of her coat, hanging it on the coat tree. “Could that extra special something take the bite off this cold winter morning?”
Something of the fermented variety, I bet. Gwen sometimes wondered if Mrs. Haverty spiked her coffee with more than just creamer.
“Good morning, Mrs. Haverty.” Her friend Stephanie shouldered her way through the kitchen door carrying two mugs of coffee. She blew a blonde bang out of her eye as she set them on the counter. Snatching a still warm cinnamon roll, she bit into it with a moan. “So how did it go with Rob last night?”
Gwen forced a light tone. “It went great.” Wow, that sounded hollow. Avoiding eye contact, Gwen straightened the already neat row of quiches, praying Stephanie would accept her answer and drop it.
“Really, dear?” Mrs. Haverty pursed her lips; her brow lifted. “Because I hear the check was dutch and you left in separate cars.”
Shoot. Gwen had forgotten about Mrs. Haverty. She must have a magic ball at home.
“No, it wasn’t that bad.” Liar. “Just an average date.”
“You’ll feel better talking about it,” Stephanie reassured between bites. Her tongue darted out to capture a stray crumb dangling from her lip.
Great. Now they were tag teaming her. Let the interrogation begin. “I shouldn’t have said yes. I don’t know why I let you talk me into another date.”
Stephanie set her roll down and reached for Gwen’s hand. “Honey, it was six months since you last went on a date. You’re too young to be sitting home alone.”
Sure. Easy for Stephanie to say. Married to her high school sweetheart, she’d never experienced a date from hell.
Gwen knew they wouldn’t let up until she spilled the dreadful details.
Blowing out a breath, she braced her arms on the counter. “Everything seemed to be going well until the main course.” They got through the appetizer. Which reminded her, she needed to see if she could duplicate the recipe. Then the salad and that was where the date took a wrong turn. “He started talking about his air guitar collection.”
“What’s an air guitar?” Mrs. Haverty asked.
Stephanie waved a hand at Mrs. Haverty. “I’ll explain later. Go ahead, Gwen.”
“Do you know how many air guitars he has?” Both women shook their head. “One thousand two hundred and fourteen.”
He was so self-absorbed in his own dialogue he hadn’t noticed her head bobbing over her mashed potatoes as he described each one in excruciating detail.
“So I felt the buzzing in my ears and knew something was about to pop out. Before I could stop myself I said…” Gwen bit her lip not wanting to continue, but Mrs. Haverty’s nod of encouragement forced it out. “I really can’t see waking up with you every morning.”
Mrs. Haverty and Stephanie both sucked in a breath.
Seeming to school her features, Stephanie reassured, “Um. That’s not so bad. I probably would have said that, too.”
“No.” Gwen caught Stephanie’s eye. “No, you wouldn’t. Admit it.”
“Well, I would have.” Mrs. Haverty’s hat bobbed on her head. Her gray curls underneath matched the rhythm.
“Yes,” Gwen said chuckling. “I’m sure you would.”
Mrs. Haverty said a lot of unexpected things for a woman her age. And said them in such a fashion that you sometimes didn’t catch the sly insult.
“Why can’t I just have one date where the filter on my mouth actually works?” Gwen sighed.
Stephanie patted Gwen on the back, “Not all of your dates have been horrible? Right, Mrs. Haverty? What about Phil?”
“Ugh. Can we please not bring up Phil?” Gwen’s face burned at the memory.
“Why, he was really nice.”
Granted his receding hairline had disappeared, but did she really have to blurt out that it looked nice? You’re supposed to quietly appreciate that kind of makeover. Not point it out.
“I said, Phil I’m so glad you went with the hair plugs and not that spray stuff.” Gwen closed her eyes. Then opened them when Phil’s mortified face appeared. He had uttered two words the rest of the night and kept touching his hair self-consciously.
“Well, that’s a compliment,” Stephanie said
“No, it’s not. I completely humiliated him.”
Gwen wiped a cloth across the counter. “I’m cursed to be single and alone. I might as well start adopting some cats and wearing house coats.”
Mrs. Haverty stilled Gwen’s hand, forcing her to look up. “Maybe it’s just the universe’s way of telling you these guys aren’t right for you.”
Gwen snorted, “Well, the universe has a cruel sense of humor.”
The timer dinged in the kitchen. Stephanie gave Gwen a sympathetic smile before running to the back.
“You know what? I’m just going to go on a dating sabbatical or better yet, make a career change. I hear there’s a shortage of nuns.”
“Phsh. Gwen, you are far too beautiful to become a nun. Hiding your beautiful hair under a habit. No. No. That would be a sin.”
“A sin is the socially unacceptable things that spill from my mouth.”
Mrs. Haverty sipped her coffee, eyeing Gwen over the rim. “Well if you stop dating, how will you meet the one?”
Gwen appreciated Mrs. Haverty’s good intentions, but she needed a dose of reality. Gwen had been on enough first dates to know there would never be a second.
Another gush of cold air streamed through the door as several customers filed in. Stephanie cradled a tray of boxed cherry danishes. Stacking them on the counter, her friend greeted the first woman in line.
A man stepped up to Gwen eyeing the rows of pastries. The collar of his charcoal gray peacoat tugged high against crimson cheeks. His wavy brown hair mussed like he had run his fingers through it one too many times. Gwen resisted the urge to lean over and smooth the errant strands.
Looking up, his brown eyes locked with Gwen’s. A half smile caused a dimple to appear on his cheek. “Good morning.”
Gwen’s stomach fluttered. Suddenly she felt like a school girl, again.
“Good
morning,” Gwen replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Would you like to lick my cupcake?” Oh, God. Filter. Filter.
The guy’s brow shot to the ceiling, while his smile took a nose dive to the floor.
“I mean, would you like to bite my muffin?” Her mouth fell open, then quickly clamped shut. Oh, God. Her filter. Where was her filter?
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Haverty exclaimed.
“Uh.” The guy just stood there. His eyes darted from Stephanie to Gwen to Mrs. Haverty and back to Gwen.
A regular customer leaned around the guy and raised his hand, “I would.”
“Not a chance, Stan.” Stan needed to worry about his own muffin top. Why could she keep that comment in?
A couple of giggles arose in the now growing crowd. Great—an audience for her stupidity.
Filter. Filter. “What I meant to say is…” She took a deep breath focusing on the correct words. “Would you like to nibble my…”
The man spun on his heel, elbowing his way through the laughing crowd.
Before Gwen could clap her hand over her mouth, she cried, “I love you.”
He picked up the pace, yanking the door open; it slammed behind him.
“That went well,” Mrs. Haverty said cheerfully.
Well? She just told a complete stranger she loved him in front of a room full of customers.
“Didn’t you recognize him?” Stephanie asked.
Gwen searched her mind, coming up blank. “Uh. No.”
A woman at the counter supplied, “That was Ethan Reynolds, with the Inspired Chef cooking show.”
Gwen’s legs grew weak. She held onto the counter before her head met the floor. Ethan Reynolds had stood in her bakery. He had wanted to try her food. And she chased him right out the door.
* * *
Ethan Reynolds balanced a box of cupcakes in his hand as he pressed the doorbell to his sister Maddie’s apartment. Dance music pulsed behind her door, then faded as she turned it down. A mental list of excuses was on standby, even though he really hoped to drop the package and run.
Yanking the door open, her hips still swaying to the beat, Maddie’s face lit up when she saw him. She wore the standard college attire. Black yoga pants and hoodie. Unmindful of the box Ethan held, she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek.
As she leaned back, her eyes dropped to the cupcakes. Her joy over seeing him quickly evaporated. Pursing her lips, she asked, pointing, “What is that?”
He shoved the container at her. “Mom’s cupcakes.”
“No,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Those are store bought cupcakes.”
How could she tell these weren’t the right ones? He was the master chef, not her. She couldn’t tell the difference between a cupcake and a petit four.
Deny. Deny. Deny. “No, they’re not.”
“Ethan,” Maddie said narrowing her eyes. “The box says Shopper’s World.
Looking down at the box, Ethan silently cursed. The store’s name plainly etched into the plastic. How did he miss that?
She put her hand on her hip. “I told you to get the red velvet from The Flaky Tart. These aren’t even red velvet.” If Maddie’s glare were any hotter, his clothes would catch fire.
Did she have any idea the willpower it took to even buy the counterfeit cupcakes? His ego still stung that his culinary skills weren’t requested for dessert.
“Look we wouldn’t have this problem if you let me make them myself. I am a world renowned chef.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Honey, you are savory, not sweet. I saw you on Top Chef Masters.”
Oh, yeah, that carrot cake did go sideways. But that wasn’t his fault. His assistant caved under pressure. If he’d given Ethan flour instead of baking soda it would have been fine.
Ethan shot a glance up and down the vacant hallway. Shifting from one foot to the other, Ethan held the box out. “Are you going to take the cupcakes or make me stand here holding them all day?”
Maddie shoved them back. “No, I’m not. You’re going to the bakery and you’re gonna get Mom’s favorite cupcakes.”
“I don’t have time today. Why can’t you get them?” There was no way he was driving another forty-five minutes back to that place. Didn’t she see his schedule? While the idea of a woman ripping his clothes off sounded enticing. In the middle of a bakery, not so much.
“Ethan. I asked you to do one thing.” She held up her finger. “One thing. I took care of everything else. Dinner, the decorations, and the gift. You can do this one thing for Mom.”
Ethan lifted his shoulders. “Um…since I’m cooking dinner and paid for the gift, that doesn’t count.”
“So what is the issue?” She tipped her head inside. “Cause I have zumba to get back to.”
“If you want to know the truth, the chick behind the counter said ‘I love you.’”
“So, she’s a fan. Maybe you’ll get a discount.”
Ethan leaned against the wall, threading his fingers through his hair. No. That girl didn’t recognize him. If she had, the situation would have seemed less awkward. “She asked me to lick her cupcake and bite her muffin.”
Maddie lifted a brow. “That explains The Flaky Tart name. Listen, for a guy with such a dry spell, you shouldn’t pass it up.”
A dry spell? His sex life definitely didn’t fall into the Sahara Desert category. With all the stamps in his passport over the past three months, he hadn’t exactly had time for dating.
Maddie shook her finger at him. “Remember when you were six and you had to have the superhero cake? With all of the superheroes? Marvel and DC?”
Ethan tipped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Uh, oh. Here we go. He wished he could pull up a chair, ‘cause this might take a while.
Without so much as a breath, his sister barreled on. “Mom had to drive all over the state trying to find the Green Lantern. And how about your eighth birthday? You wanted it in the shape of a baseball.” Maddie flung her hands in the air. “But not just any baseball. It had to be a three dimensional one.”
“Okay. Okay.” Ethan held up his hand, as if that alone could stop his sister’s tirade. “I’ll go get Mom’s cupcakes.”
“You better come back with those or I’ll dump salt in your sauce. Remember. Red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.”
With a satisfied grin, Maddie blew him a kiss, stepped into her apartment, and shut the door in his face, and then as quickly opened it back up. Maybe she had changed her mind.
“Oh, and while you’re there get me a gluten and sugar free oatmeal cookie.” She started to close the door, then stopped. “Make that two.”
* * *
Gwen swiped the bead of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Stray curls popped out of her bun, clinging to her cheeks and the back of her neck. The kitchen was as hot as the oven baking her chocolate “xoxo” cookies. Running non-stop since five that morning and she had barely caught up with her orders.
Stephanie pushed open the door to the kitchen. “Gwen, I need some help out here; the line is to the door.”
Gwen froze. After this morning’s drama, she had kept to the kitchen, worried her mouth would run wild, again. She had no idea what had come over her. Maybe she needed to see a doctor. Get a brain scan. This was the worst thing she had ever done. Why did she have to say it to Ethan Reynolds?
Her dates were the ones on the receiving end of her loose tongue. Not her customers. Had it been his deep brown eyes or that dimple in his cheek that had thrown her off guard? Gwen exhaled. She could do this.
She wiped her hands on a towel as she pushed through the door. Steph wasn’t kidding. People crowded into the seating area, the cold temperatures forcing them to huddle inside the door.
Waiting on the next customer, Gwen boxed up three dozen cookies for Mr. Blake’s English class.
“Thank you, Mr. Blake. I hope the kids enjoy them,” she said grateful that her filter re
mained locked in place.
“Oh, they will. This is their reward for finishing their writing assignments on time.”
The teacher stepped aside making room for Mrs. Oliver.
“Hi, Mrs. Oliver. Have the doctors released your husband yet?”
A relieved smile spread across the woman’s face. “I’m on my way to pick him up now. I was hoping to get some of your pear and almond cake as a welcome home gift. You know how much he loves it.”
Gwen reached for a box under the counter and walked the length of the display case. She noticed the basket of chocolate dipped fruits needed filling. Gwen lifted the cake and set it in the box folding the lid. The door chimed as more customers entered.
This turned out to be easier than she thought. What happened with the guy earlier must have been a fluke. Gwen handed the box to Mrs. Oliver.
“Thank you so much, Gwen. Bob is going to be so surprised.”
Mrs. Oliver turned, revealing Ethan in all his sexy glory behind her. Gwen’s stomach dropped. The sea of faces behind him blurred as the room tilted.
“Um. Excuse me.”
Like a cat with its tail on fire, Gwen bolted to the kitchen. The door creaked on its hinges as it swung back and forth. She plastered her back to the wall and held her breath. Why did he come back?
She heard Stephanie take his order. With her ear pressed to the door she struggled to hear his response.
“I’ll take twelve red velvet with cream cheese frosting.”
Great. He already had a valentine. She had gotten all hot and bothered for nothing. She should have known a celebrity like Ethan would have women falling all over him.
The glass door holding the cupcakes slid across its track.
Her eyes shot to the door at the sound of breaking glass. Ethan completely forgotten, Gwen shoved open the door. On the other side of the counter, a crowd formed a semi-circle around Mrs. Haverty, who stood with her hand resting on her temple.
8 Hearts Beat As One: A Romance Anthology Page 9