How Sweet It Is

by Wendy Vella

  “Shit, Willow, I’m sorry.” Buster reached for her as she grabbed her bag and coat, but she backed away.

  “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.” She rubbed the damaged skin through the fabric of her jacket and winced. “I can see you’re busy today, so I’ll come by to see you tomorrow to discuss the offer.”

  “Willow, sit down and let me look at your hand. That was a decent amount of coffee, and it was black and hot.” Buster tried to reach her again, but she dodged around a chair and made for the door.

  “Goodbye, Jake, Ethan,” she said, excluding him, and seconds later the door slammed behind her.

  “Hope she puts some water on that,” Jake said, stirring a second teaspoon of sugar into his coffee.

  “If she’s the type to burn, it’ll probably scar,” Ethan said, taking his without.

  “What?” Buster snarled, turning to face the two men, who were watching him. “It’s a scald, not sun-fucking-burn, you idiot!” He knew he was yelling, but couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d just hurt a woman, and he never did that.

  “She’s just got soft, pale skin. I’d hate to see it scarred.”

  Ethan had an innocent look on his face, as did Jake, but Buster didn’t buy that from either of them. “You two have homes and women. Go find them!”

  “Hell, no, not when the company is so good here.” Jake pulled out the seat beside him and patted it. “Take a load off, Baker Boy. Something tells me you could do with a break.”

  “I don’t want a break.”

  “Sure you do,” Jake said in a calm voice that was laced with steel.

  No one could make Buster do anything he didn’t want to, except his father and this man. They were brothers in every way but blood and had been since childhood, and he sometimes thought Jake knew him better than he knew himself. Unfortunately, now was one of those times.

  “You’re not going to lecture me, are you? Because you know I hate that shit.” Buster sat and took the black coffee Tex handed him.

  “What’s the deal with New York? I thought you sold the café.”

  Buster used his apron to wipe up the coffee he’d thrown over Willow and the table. Once that was done, he wrapped his fingers around the cup and moved it slowly in a small circle around the table as he thought about how to answer that question.

  “You know I hate spilling my guts, Jake, so cut me a break and just ask me something manly. Like, ‘Have you installed a new engine in something lately?’”

  Jake snorted. “You wouldn’t know one end of a motor from another.”

  “True,” Buster sighed. “No one’s better at rebuilding a blender, though.”

  “Did you sell the café?” Jake’s eyes were steady, and for once Ethan was silent, watching them and waiting for answers.

  “So you drive me crazy with your incessant talking from sunup to sundown, and now suddenly you’ve taken a vow of silence?” Buster snapped at the Texan.

  “Now, Aramis, there’s no need to go at me because you’re cornered.”

  “I could kill her with my bare hands for that alone,” Buster growled. The truth was, he was cornered. Jake wouldn’t give up. When he got hold of something, he gnawed at it until he got the answers he wanted. “You know I’m not big on this shit, Jake. Talking about personal stuff makes me itch.”

  “I’m sure if you wait long enough, someone will come in who cares. But while we do, stop your whining and talk.”

  Buster slugged down a big, mouthful of coffee. “I didn’t sell, all right?”

  “You told me you did because Jessica was making your life difficult.”

  “She finally got the idea and moved away. And I didn’t exactly tell you I had sold. You decided I had, and I let you.”

  “Why?”

  Buster saw the hurt in his friend’s eyes and hated that he’d put it there. “Because I was never really sure that I didn’t want to go back,” he said, then exhaled.

  “And you think I would have stopped you?”

  “Of course not,” Buster said. “It was just something I wanted to keep to myself until I decided, and now I have. That café means a lot to me, and also to my parents. Mom and Dad spent hours there helping me set it up. Mom used to bake every morning alongside me, while Dad would clean and serve people. It was a special time for us, being together like that. The Gryphon was the first café I owned. It took a lot of my sweat to build it into what it is today, so I’m not sure I’d ever want to sell it.”

  “And have you decided whether you’re staying here in Howling or going?”

  “I’m staying.”

  Jake’s smile made Buster’s chest feel warm and heavy, but he didn’t return the gesture. They’d be shocked if he had.

  “It’s your wife, McBride. I can’t live without her in my life.”

  “And there I was, thinking it was me,” the Texan sighed. “Now, tell me who the hell Jessica is.”

  “So, what’s the deal with Willow?” Jake said, ignoring him.

  “She has an offer for the café that I don’t want to accept. Beside the personal reasons, the Gryphon also makes me money, and while I know you think I enjoy working every hour of every day, one day I want to retire.”

  “How do you know she has an offer if you haven’t seen the papers?” Ethan asked.

  “This guy called me from Howe Realty. Said he had a client who wanted to purchase the Gryphon. I said no, he tried to persuade me, we finished the call, and I thought that was that.”

  “Must be a big offer for her to come here personally and present it,” Jake said with a whistle.

  “I recognized her the minute she walked in the door because I saw her in New York every day for months. I didn’t make the connection with the Gryphon until she gave me her card.”

  “How’d she know you lived here?” Jake asked.

  “Those Realtor people can find out anything.”

  “And you don’t even want to look at the offer? Aren’t you curious to see how much they want to pay you?” Ethan asked.

  “I called some associates who have cafés near the Gryphon in New York, and asked if any of them have been approached. One had, by a franchise. Even if I was going to sell the Gryphon, I wouldn’t do it if there was any chance of that,” Buster said, feeling outraged all over again. “No way is my hard work being turned into prepackaged shit and muddy-tasting coffee.”

  “You’re such a snob, Griffin. Unless it’s made by your hand, it’s shit,” Jake laughed.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve got standards, and I don’t see either of you complaining.”

  Buster watched his friends stick their hands in the air. Jake then sipped his coffee while Ethan sat back in his chair.

  “I’ve come to think of you as this guy who’s happy with his lot here in Howling. Café owner, local grouch and loved by many, but I’m seeing a whole other side to you today, Aramis. First you’re talking ‘income streams’ and then ‘associates’… Hell, it seems like you’re something of an entrepreneur. So, tell me who Jessica is.”

  “An ex. Now, tell me: how much do I have to pay you to keep that name between us?”

  “Pineapple cake every week for two months,” Ethan said. “And who knew you had an ex?”

  “Me,” Jake said, smiling. “Annabelle and Newman, and probably a few others.”

  “Done.” Buster shook the Texan’s hand.

  “But I want vanilla and chocolate frosting with coconut on top.”

  “You don’t put those together,” Buster said, outraged at the thought.

  “It’s a deal breaker.”

  “Philistine,” Buster muttered as his thoughts went to Willow. He hoped she’d put water on that burn.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Music was playing as Willow entered The Howler’s dining area later that evening. A soft Christmas carol was being sung in a deep, crooning voice that seemed to wrap around her as she drew closer.

  After her undignified departure from The Hoot, Willow had checked into her room and run co
ld water over her burned arm. It still hurt like hell, even after the cream she’d slathered all over it, but the pain was a reminder of what an idiot she’d been. Tomorrow she would do better.

  Tomorrow she’d be prepared and professional, and Buster Griffin would realize she meant business. It had been the shock of seeing him that made her react like she had today; now that she knew it was him she had to present the offer to, she’d be ready. No more stuttering or being flustered; next time she’d be all business.

  “Would you like a table, Ms. Harper?” Noah Harris, The Howler’s proprietor, appeared before her. Dark-skinned, with black hair and eyes to match, he was a man a woman took a second look at, especially when he flashed a mouthful of white teeth. She wondered what was in the water here—she’d already seen four handsome men.

  “Yes, I would. Thank you. And if possible, can I please take the room for a few more days?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Harper, but we’re fully booked from tomorrow on, until the carnival’s over.”

  “Is there anywhere else I could stay?” Willow couldn’t leave yet.

  “I’ll see if I can find you something.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Harris.”

  “Just Noah,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.

  The place was decorated for Christmas with twinkling lights and huge swaths of greenery twined with big red bows hanging from the ceiling. The fir tree standing in one corner reached the ceiling, and its scent permeated the room. Willow thought the place looked wonderful, her eyes taking in each detail as Noah led her to the dining area.

  She passed walls painted in deep red and more wood paneling. One wall was covered in Green Bay Packers memorabilia, and others had windows with views that she was sure in the light of day would be spectacular. A huge open fireplace warmed the room and a few people were sitting on the edge of the stone hearth drinking and talking. It was somewhere people would come to spend a few hours, a place to laugh and catch up. The bar was a big circle wrapped in soft-colored stone, and as they passed, Noah grabbed a menu.

  “Here’s the wine list, and I’ll bring the menu,” he said after seating her.

  “Hi.” The greeting came from the table next to Willow’s, where a woman was sitting beside a little boy in a booster seat.

  “Hello.” Willow returned the greeting.

  “You alone?” The woman had a pretty face with dark blonde hair that hung in soft curls. She looked genuinely interested in Willow’s reply.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, so are we, so why don’t you come over here and join us?”

  She was shocked to be asked by a stranger to join her table. The surprise must have shown on her face.

  “We don’t bite, do we, Billy?”

  The woman tickled the boy under the chin, and he grinned at her.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t think that.” Willow was totally at sea when it came to communicating with another woman. After leaving home at sixteen, she hadn’t had a close friend since.

  “I was joking, I promise.” She had lovely blue eyes that sparkled as she smiled and was wearing a rose-colored cardigan that made her look approachable and friendly. “Noah, this lady is going to join Billy and me,” she said before Willow could refuse.

  Seconds later Willow found herself seated across from the boy and his mother, when really what she’d wanted was a quiet meal so she could read over some papers she’d brought on the trip.

  “I’m Macy, and this is my son Billy,” the woman said, and Willow heard the pride in her voice as she touched her son again, this time running a hand over his soft cap of blond curls.

  “He’s a happy child.” Willow had grown up with lots of children and babies and had no problem with them, but hadn’t factored any into her own life.

  Maybe one day she’d meet someone and they’d start a family, but first she’d make sure they were settled in a comfortable house in a suburb with other families. There would be no trailers or homespun clothes for her children. She would ensure that there’d be nothing to make them stand out from the crowd unless they wanted to.

  “Not so much at 3 a.m., but the rest of the time I have to agree with you.”

  “How old is he?” Experience had taught her that people loved talking about their children, and as she had nothing else in common with this woman she’d pass the meal that way.

  “Two years old.”

  “I like your cardigan,” Willow said as silence settled around them, making her feel uncomfortable.

  “Thanks. What’s your name?”

  “Oh, sorry. It’s Willow Harper.”

  “This color would look lovely on you,” Macy said, studying Willow intently, which made her want to wriggle in her seat. “Although with those spectacular eyes, maybe lilac would be better.”

  “Thank you.” Willow picked up her menu in the hope that that would put an end to this discussion, then realized she’d left her glasses upstairs. She had to move it back a few inches so she could focus.

  “Lilac goes perfectly with heaps of colors, even if you spend your days in suits. My shop here in Howling isn’t opening for a few weeks, but I already have my first shipment of stock. You should come on by before you leave, and I’ll help get you into some colors.”

  “I won’t be here long.” Willow heard how rude she sounded and made herself breathe slowly. Here was a perfectly nice person who wanted to talk to her. Just because they weren’t discussing the square feet of a property and bedroom numbers, she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable and tense.

  “That’s a shame. We have some great events coming up over the next few weeks,” Macy said. “There’s the carnival that people come from far and wide to see, and Noah has a few things happening here at The Howler that are not to be missed.”

  Noah smiled, flashing his lovely teeth. “Now, what can I get you ladies to drink?”

  “A glass of white wine, thanks. Anything you have will do,” Willow added. It would give her something to occupy her hands and relax her enough to get through the meal with a stranger.

  “How about we share a bottle?” Macy went through the menu and selected something. “So, Willow, where are you from, and what are you doing in the finest little town in the entire United States?”

  “I’m from New York, here on business. I may have to come back now, though, since I understand The Howler is booked until after Christmas and I’m not sure I’ll have everything completed by then.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “Real estate.”

  “I have a room free, if you want it.”

  “I couldn’t do that. I mean…” Willow grabbed the glass Noah had just poured and swallowed a mouthful of wine before finishing the sentence. “Do you rent out rooms?”

  “No, but I’m happy for you to have one if you need it.”

  “You don’t even know me, and you’re offering me a room in your house? Aren’t you worried about your son? I mean, I could be a monster or…” Willow felt her cheeks grow hot as Macy smiled at her. Dear God, she was stumbling over her words for the second time that day. What was the matter with her?

  Leaning across the table, Macy patted her hand. “The thing is, Willow, I’ve known a few monsters in my life, so I’m pretty good at spotting them. I’m sure Billy and I are safe with you.”

  Willow wondered what kind of monsters this woman could have met, living in a small town like Lake Howling, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “Are you ladies ready to order?”

  “Billy will have that chicken meal with the pasta he loves, Noah, and I’ll have the veal rib chop.” Macy closed her menu and looked at Willow.

  “The same as Macy. Thanks,” Willow added, handing the menu to Noah.

  “Sure thing. Won’t be long.”

  “If you won’t stay with me, then how about in my cabin? It hasn’t been occupied for a while, and it may be a bit primitive for you, but it has everything you’ll need—including running water and bathroom facilities.”


  “I’ll pay the going rate, of course,” Willow said, relieved that she had a way out of staying with this woman. She was a person who needed personal space, having spent most of the last ten years on her own.

  “Okay, well, how about we discuss it if and when you need to use it?”

  Willow nodded. She then sipped her wine as Macy talked about fashions and the shop she was setting up here. Willow answered the questions she was asked but didn’t offer a great deal to the conversation. She purchased expensive clothes for work, but as she had no social life and rarely ventured out, she didn’t have a lot of casual clothing or the amount of accessories some women did.

  “Do you wear color, Willow?”

  “Not often. I like to dress conservatively.” Christ, she sounded boring. But when you’d spent your childhood wearing the colors of the rainbow that your mother had dyed into fabric and sewed into ill-fitting clothes, you tended to want to blend into the crowd as an adult.

  “I think you should. You have those spectacular eyes, and your skin is beautiful.”

  Uncomfortable with the subject, Willow asked another question about Billy, and thankfully Macy was happy to answer.

  When Billy yawned after he’d eaten his scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce, Macy said that she’d better get him home to bed.

  “Here’s my number, Willow. Give me a call when you know if you’re going to need the use of the cabin, and I’ll head over and give it a clean.”

  “I’d hate to put you to any trouble.” Willow took the piece of paper. “I can clean it,” she added. There was no way she was going to make this woman go out in the cold with her little boy.

  “Then I won’t charge you,” Macy said.

  “I insist on paying,” Willow said, horrified. Everyone needed money, and with a small child she imagined Macy’s need was doubled.

  “Hey, Macy, you want me to run you and Billy home? It's cold out there and my car’s warm. We can get yours in the—”