“He didn’t?”
“No. We should’ve talked about it before we got married, but, again, I assumed…”
See? Right there. Lack of communication was to blame for their split, not her cake.
“Funny thing was, we were eating the top of our wedding cake that we froze for our first anniversary when I told him I wanted to start trying.”
Well, hell. That sure as shit didn’t help her case, did it?
“It was supposed to be a romantic gesture for us to someday tell our kids about the start of our family, but Ty looked at me like I was crazy and flat out told me no babies. He didn’t want to be tied down with kids. We tried to make the marriage work for a little while after that, but neither of us were willing to compromise, and we were divorced by our second anniversary.”
“Again, I’m sorry,” she murmured with genuine sympathy. Her lack of faith in the institution didn’t change the fact divorce could be heartbreaking.
“It’s not your fault,” Jules said.
Clearly she hadn’t read the blog post on Denver Today. Yesterday, she would’ve agreed with the woman. Today, she wasn’t so sure as guilt oozed in her gut.
Stop it. You did not jinx anything or anyone.
Honor made a few more calls before showering and getting ready for lunch, then carried two large bakery boxes of cupcakes out to her car. A quick glance across the street toward Asher’s house made her pulse skip a beat.
It was now just before noon. Was he home? She wanted to go over and ask if he’d liked the cupcakes, but after those kisses last night, what she really wanted to know was, had he dreamed about her like she’d dreamed about him?
Maybe. After all, anything was possible.
Chapter 14
On her way to Mae’s office, Honor glanced both ways at the stoplight for her right turn. A few blocks down on the left, she caught sight of the sign for Lift Your Spirit and narrowed her gaze. Roxanna Kent had managed to secure herself a prime spot. Honor would love to have a storefront in this area of Lakewood.
Someday.
“Or, maybe never,” she muttered as she recalled the cancellations that had poured in over the morning.
After a moment of hesitation, she drove around the block and then turned left toward the psychic’s shop instead of right to see Mae. Mom and Glory would understand if she was late. She parked across the street, then marched with one of her bakery boxes to the shop’s front door.
Distinct musical tones sounded with her entry. As they faded, the muted overhead harmony of piano and flutes registered. Her nose twitched from an onslaught of competing essential oil scents, but when she moved past a display case of various crystals and mineral rocks, bold roast coffee took over her senses.
She would’ve thought tea to go with the new age Zen ambiance, but not far from the cash register counter in the back where Lift Your Spirit’s owner stood, there was a full on coffee, cappuccino, and latte station with three small café tables and chairs. One was occupied by a trio of high school girls with cardboard to-go cups. Hmm. She hadn’t realized Glory and her friends got their coffee and their auras read at the same place.
The store was much larger than she’d imagined from driving by over the last couple of years, especially since it didn’t go all the way to the back. Behind the register was a small open, U-shaped area with a door on each wall. The door on the left was closed, the one in the middle she assumed was the exit to the back of the building, and she smirked at the long strings of colorful beads dangling from the top of the opening on the right.
Such a cliché.
A handful of other shoppers were scattered throughout, perusing a multitude of legit offerings besides magic eight balls, tarot cards, and fortune cookies.
Yes, she was being snarky, but it was better than being impressed by the soothing atmosphere and what looked like quality merchandise. Besides the oils and crystals, she noted candles, chimes, shawls, books, incense, clothes, leather sandals, Himalayan salt lamps, and more. A pretty, rust colored shawl caught her eye, but she forced herself to look away. The woman had sabotaged her business, no way she’d buy anything from her store.
Roxanna looked up with a welcoming smile as Honor approached, but it quickly faded. The brunette’s long hair hung in a loose braid down her back, with a few soft curls trailing along the sides of her neck. She wore a stretchy, baby blue, V-neck T-shirt with a sunflower on the front, and a flowing navy skirt that brushed the floor.
Her gaze flicked down to the bakery box in Honor’s hands, then lifted once more. From the remorse in her expression, she was well aware of the blog post. Not surprising, if indeed she really was psychic.
She’s not.
Screw hello and how are you? Honor went with a bold, accusatory, “I’ve had five cancellations so far today.”
Regret pinched Roxanna’s features. “I’m sorry. I never intended that to happen.”
“And yet it did.” She plopped the bakery box on the polished wood counter and braced her hands on the cool surface while lifting her chin to meet the taller woman’s gaze head on. “Did you know that Adam Wilson filed for divorce because he found out his wife was sleeping with his best man before and after the wedding?”
The frown drawing Roxanna’s dark eyebrows together deepened. “I did not know that.”
“And Ty didn’t want kids, but Jules did. They never talked about it before the wedding, and afterwards, neither of them was willing to change their minds.” She left out the part about what they’d been eating when they had that conversation. “As for Carson and Hannah, Carson got a huge promotion at work, but Hannah didn’t want to give up her career to move overseas with him, and he refused to stay here. Their careers were more important than each other.”
She had no clue if they had saved any of their wedding cake. If she was being honest, she’d been too afraid to ask anyone about cake after talking to Jules.
“Not every couple is going to make it,” she finished. “None of those were my fault.”
Roxanna lifted her chin, her expression set with resolve. “The Diamonds have been together for a very long time—”
“Thirty-five years,” Honor confirmed in a tight voice. As if she needed to be reminded.
“I couldn’t take the chance of anything messing with that. Not with what’s coming.”
“What does that mean?”
She looked like she’d said something she hadn’t meant to. “I meant with the campaign.”
“But who cares about my business, right?”
Roxanna still looked contrite, but her silence conveyed she was okay with the collateral damage.
Well, Honor damn sure wasn’t. “You need to contact that blog writer and tell them you were wrong.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Why not?”
She glanced around before lowering her voice. “Because I wasn’t wrong.”
“I don’t jinx my cakes.” A flick of her wrist flipped up the bakery box cover. She took out one of the lemon blueberry cupcakes and thrust it forward. “Take a bite.”
“I’d rather not.”
“You owe me that much. Try it, and you will see I don’t jinx anything. My cakes are amazing.” It wasn’t a brag, just a statement of fact after years of satisfied clients.
Roxanna’s gaze narrowed before she reached out to take the cupcake as if it had cooties or something. She gingerly peeled the liner down, then took a bite. Her expression stayed passive as she chewed and visibly forced a swallow.
Then one sculpted eyebrow arched high. “Angry baking is a thing?”
“What?” Honor’s stomach lurched. “No. Of course not.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Whatever you say.” The brunette turned and dropped the rest of the cupcake in the garbage behind her.
Her jaw went slack in surprise, but when Roxanna turned back to the counter, the psychic’s gaze flicked to the chocolate ones on the other side of
the box.
“Go ahead.” She injected a note of challenge into her tone to hide her nerves.
One bite of the chocolate and the brunette’s cheeks flushed. She closed her eyes with a low, throaty, “Mmm.” When her long lashes lifted, her warmed gaze met Honor’s as she licked frosting off her lips.
“Whew,” she said around a second bite while fanning herself. “You definitely weren’t angry when you baked these.”
Heat flooded her face when she thought about who’d been at her house when the chocolate batch went in the oven. Before she could formulate a retort, a customer stepped up behind her and leaned forward to look inside the bakery box.
“Ooh, those look so good,” the woman gushed. “How much are they?”
Honor shifted herself and the box to the right so there was room for her to place purchases on the counter. “Sorry, they’re not—”
“Five dollars each,” Roxanna cut in as she set aside the half-eaten chocolate cake in her hand. “And worth every penny.”
Worth every penny? What?!
“I’ll take two of each, please.”
Honor cut her gaze to Roxanna, eyes wide in shock over her words of praise and the lack of hesitation in the customer’s response. The shop owner simply reached under the counter and pulled out a brown gift box to put the four cupcakes in, then rang them up along with the woman’s other items.
Once she left, Honor moved closer again. “You didn’t seem overly concerned about selling her the angry ones.”
“Your anger was specifically directed at me. It won’t affect her.” Roxanna opened the register and offered Honor a twenty.
“I don’t want your money.”
“They were your cupcakes.”
Good point. Honor swiped the cash from her fingers. “Is this supposed to make everything okay?”
“I know it doesn’t make up for what happened last night, but I have a license to go with the coffee bar, so I can sell them here whenever you want, to help make up for the cancellations. It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, for sure it’s the least,” she retorted while stuffing the money in her jeans pocket. “The most would be for you to call the blog writer and admit you were wrong.”
“I wasn’t wrong.” Roxanna gave her a sideways glance, then propped one hand on her hip, chin at a defiant angle as she faced her directly. “Tell me you believe in love and I’ll call right now.”
Aggravation shortened her breath as she stared at the stubborn brunette. What was with her and Asher insisting she answer that damn question? Like with him, she found she couldn’t outright lie to his friend’s face. She’d meant it when she’d told Mae she didn’t believe in psychic crap, and yet the woman had eerily predicted her emotions for each batch of treats in the box. Her reaction to the chocolate was particularly unsettling.
Unless she’d talked to Asher. If he’d told her about stopping at Honor’s house after the party, if he told her they’d kissed, then it wouldn’t have been hard for her to make guesses about the cupcakes.
Taking a page straight out of his playbook, she replied, “Anything is possible.”
Roxanna’s scrutiny made her insides twitch. After a long moment, she said, “That’s very true. And when you actually believe it, I’ll be happy to make a new statement.”
“What the hell?” Honor snapped in frustration. “Have you appointed yourself the Happily Ever After Fairy?”
“No. I am definitely not that.” Dejection clouded her eyes for the space of one breath, then her expression hardened to stubborn again. “But I still stand by what I said.”
Irritated frustration threatened to coil her fingers into fists. Instead, she flipped the top closed on the cupcakes with a muttered, “This was a total waste of time.”
When she would’ve lifted the cupcakes to take them with her, Roxanna laid a hand on the box. “Leave them. I’ll even pay you up front.”
“These are for someone else.” She jerked the sweets away and headed for the door. She’d talk to the damn blog writer herself.
On her way back to her car, she fumed at the woman’s refusal to take back her accusation from the party. She knew why—it didn’t take a genius to figure it out—but it still pissed her off. Roxanna didn’t give a shit if Honor believed in love or not, she was only worried about her own reputation. Because who’d want to go to a psychic who made false predictions?
Chapter 15
Everywhere Asher turned, something reminded him of Honor.
The late morning sun hit the carafe of juice on the table, casting a rich, red shadow to almost match her hair. His youngest sister’s gray sweatshirt was a couple shades darker than Honor’s faded T-shirt last night. Seeing Celia and her fiancé steal a quick kiss at the door of the dining room had him daydreaming about his neighbor’s sexy, sweet mouth all through Sunday brunch.
He’d wanted to knock on her door just to see her face this morning, to hear her voice. But it would’ve been a wasted opportunity with his family waiting on him before serving the meal. He needed to return the plate when he had lots of time, when they could talk and get to know each other, not drop it off and run. A move like that gave him no chance to finesse another kiss that was ten times better than her addicting frosting.
His mom and dad sat at one end of the twelve foot table, with his grandparents opposite. Celia, Robert, and Loyal filled in one side, and he, Merit, and Shelby the other. Currently, the baby of the family had asked their dad to go view a property she’d spotted for her future vet clinic.
“This is not part of the plan, Shelby.”
“Maybe it’s not part of your plan, but it is part of mine, Daddy.”
She gave him a mutinous glare, and he frowned. The youngest Diamond was usually pretty easy going, but when she set her mind to something, look out.
“I don’t like that location,” Dad said. “The neighborhood is terrible. It’s not safe.”
“Just because it isn’t in a rich neighborhood doesn’t mean it’s not safe. It’ll be perfect for my clinic, and it has a full apartment upstairs, too.”
“You have enough in your trust fund that you won’t need to bother yourself with tenants.”
“The apartment would be for me,” she clarified. “I’m not living here after college.”
“You don’t want to mooch off Mom and Dad like Merit does?” Loyal asked with a smirk.
“Shut up, Loyal.” Merit scowled at him across the table. “Celia only moved out a month ago.”
“Celia had a full-time job the whole time,” their dad snapped.
Asher held back a sigh for the direction the conversation had taken. At this rate, brunch was liable to drag on longer into the afternoon than he’d planned to stay. He hoped to talk Honor into having dinner with him before he had to leave for Pike’s Peak later.
Thankfully, his mom held up a hand, her diamond rings flashing in the sunlight. “Let’s not get into all that right now.” She glanced at Shelby while refilling her coffee cup and their dad’s. “You have another full year before you graduate. Now isn’t the time to be distracted with moving anywhere. You need to concentrate on your studies, and we need to focus on your father’s campaign.”
“All she does is study,” Merit interjected. “Geezus. Let her get a life and have some fun.”
“Purchasing real estate isn’t something you do for fun,” Grandpa Ira admonished. “It’s an investment to be taken seriously.” As he would know—he’d doubled his own father’s fortune in the real estate market forty years ago, and taught his son to do the same before he moved into politics.
Shelby sat up straighter in her chair. “I am taking it seriously, Grandpa. That’s why I asked Dad to come look at the place with me. I’m planning ahead just like he preaches.”
Their father shook his head and her face fell. “My entire week is booked solid between work and the campaign. Maybe you could go with her, Dad?”
“Sure,” Grandpa agreed.
“I’ll go,” Merit o
ffered at the same time.
“You should get yourself a job,” their dad snapped.
Merit fisted the napkin in his lap and Asher bumped his knee against his brother’s. It wasn’t a bad idea for him to finally put his engineering degree to some use. He’d certainly be able to do a thorough inspection of the building. “You should both go. I’m sure Shelby wouldn’t mind the extra opinion, right, Bells?”
“Forget it.” Jaw set, their youngest brother tossed his napkin on his plate and shoved his chair back.
“Merit…” Shelby called after him as he strode from the room.
“Let him go,” their father grumbled in a low voice. “It’s what he does best. He needs to grow the hell up.”
Asher agreed, and yet a split-second glimpse of Merit’s expression had him wondering if there wasn’t more bothering his brother than Dad getting on his case.
He couldn’t find him after brunch, but he did catch Celia in the kitchen. Without mincing words, he asked, “Are you still going to use Honor Hartman for your wedding cake?”
His older sister grimaced as she loaded plates in the dishwasher since Elena had Sundays off these days. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? Just because of what happened last night?”
“Well, yeah. Didn’t you see the Denver Today blog?”
“No. You know I don’t pay attention to that crap.”
“They did a write up about Dad, and another whole post about Honor’s jinxed cakes.”
His stomach sank for her sake even as annoyance flared. “That’s bullshit.”
Celia gave him a quick look. “You think Roxanna’s wrong?”
Well, hell. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t on that question. He forced a casual shrug and stepped up to the sink. “I talked to her last night. She doesn’t really know for sure about the jinxing thing.”
“Oh.” His sister hesitated, then said, “Still…better not to take any chances, you know? I’ll leave the first divorce in the family to Merit.”
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