“We’re going to need a cake.”
Of course. Blake smiled at the excuse to stop by the bakery. Four days without seeing her was too long. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, son. Got to go.”
Blake hung up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Yawned. Saturday he was hauling new furniture for the bakery and helping Olivia arrange it in the new space. A whole day with her all to himself. He could get used to that.
~*~
“What do you think of this one?” Olivia gazed up at Blake from her spot on the white wicker settee. The gray-and-yellow cushion was plush yet firm, and the pattern would offset the solid accent chairs they’d purchased earlier.
Blake was doing his best to hide the glazed-over expression every man got when shopping. However, his best wasn’t quite enough.
He lowered onto the space next to her. Their thighs brushed, causing her heart to speed. Then Blake’s arm stretched along her shoulders. “Yep. This is definitely the one.”
She elbowed his ribs. They’d flirted like a couple of kids all morning. He had a way of focusing his attention solely on her, making her feel special. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I think this settee and the chairs we bought earlier will go great with the antique travel trunk-turned-coffee table.”
He nodded. “The only thing that would make this moment better is food.”
“You’re right.” They’d searched every furniture and antique store in Bangor. Feeding him was the least she could do. Though she was nice and cozy.
He removed his arm. “You pay. I’ll load.”
She gripped his knee and used it as leverage to stand. “Lunch is on me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Payment for helping me.”
“I don’t want to be paid.” Blake stood and inched closer until they stood toe to toe. His fingers skimmed the back of her hand, tying her stomach in delightful knots. “Consider this a date.”
Olivia looked away. Those giddy knots were now stomach cramps. Oh, how she wanted to give in. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me and—”
“That’s what dating is for, Livi.” He touched her chin and guided her face around to meet his. “I’m not afraid of anything you have to tell me.”
That’s because he didn’t know what she would say.
Blake bent his knees to meet her at eye level. “Will you agree to get to know me?”
As if she could deny him when his gentle touch stirred a fire inside her belly that melted her insides like butter in a hot skillet. “When you put it like that, how can a girl say no?”
He grinned. “That’s a yes?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Impossible.”
They separated at the register. She paid while Blake drove the truck around the back to the warehouse. After the settee, the accent chairs, and the trunk were secured in Blake’s truck bed, Olivia climbed in beside him, and they turned onto the highway.
The wind rushed through the open windows, lashing her hair around her face. She rested her head on the seatbelt and closed her eyes. The freedom of an entire day off from work and caregiving invigorated Olivia’s spirit. As much as she loved her grandma, the break was welcome. Eugenia was a saint for staying with Grandma today.
The sun poured through the window and heated her legs. She stretched and opened her eyes. Blake took his gaze off the road long enough to watch her in that way a man did when he very much approved of a woman. That’s when she noticed her feet on his dashboard. “Oh. Sorry.”
She started to pull them away, but he put out a hand to stop her. “I don’t mind. Go ahead and let your hair down, let the grass grow under your feet, or whatever you flatlanders say.”
“I can honestly claim I’ve never used either one of those terms. What would you seafarers call it?”
“I’d say, for a city puke, you’re wicked cunnin’.”
“Ha! Is that code or something? What does that even mean?”
“It means for a Midwesterner, you’re pretty amazing.” He winked. “Very cute.”
Blake had to be the only man on earth charming enough to make a girl blush after referring to her as a “city puke.” That wink, a gesture she’d come to know as all Blake and innocent of anything sleazy, made her insides squirm with pleasure every time.
He reached for her hand. “What were you thinking all kicked back on my dashboard?”
“How nice it is to have a day away from…everything.”
Blake squeezed her hand.
“That sounds terrible.”
“No, it doesn’t. No matter how much we love our jobs, or the people in our lives, it’s nice to have a day off.” He slowed and flicked on his turn signal. “How about we celebrate with a lobster roll?”
“I accept. I haven’t had lobster since I moved here.”
“I don’t eat them very often, but you can’t drive past the Seafood Shack without stopping for a lobster roll.”
They turned off the highway and wound along the road for a couple miles before turning into a parking lot full of cars packed like sardines. Blake managed to find a narrow space part-way in the grass. She met him at the tailgate, where he linked his fingers with hers and they ascended the natural granite steps to a level plateau.
Blue-and-white gingham table cloths covered picnic tables filled with customers. The cerulean Atlantic rolled into the cliffs below, sending white puffs of sea spray over the rocks. Another set of steps, where the granite had worn into layers through time, angled down toward the water where a group of teenagers tested their courage.
The order line moved quickly. They both accepted a tray with their meal and turned to find a vacant table. “Let’s eat down there,” Blake said, nodding to where the granite layered down to the water. “We won’t go too far.”
Balancing his tray on one hand, he helped her navigate with the other. They sat far enough away from everyone else to have privacy. Olivia bit into her lobster roll, relishing the creamy sauce and delicate spices surrounding the fresh meat. “Mmm.”
“Told yah.”
They ate in silence. Waves crashed into the rocks, swirled, and churned before rejoining the open blue. Osprey circled overhead. This day was nothing short of peaceful.
She stacked her trash in one heap to keep it from dancing away. “How’s the renovation going?”
Blake wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Slow. I don’t get much time to work on it in the summer.” He piled his trash as well. “Arianne signed up to harvest. She said you’d mentioned helping also.”
“I’ll be there at least one day. More, if I can. I’m confident leaving Brittany in charge at the bakery when I take time off, but finding someone to stay with Grandma is another matter.”
“Have you considered in-home health care? Mrs. Hudson might be eligible, depending on her insurance.”
Olivia stretched her legs in front of her and lay back on her elbows. “I’ve tried to put off the decision as long as I can, but…I feel guilty even thinking about it.”
Blake swallowed his last bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Having help can only benefit both of you.”
“I know, I’m just…”
“Have trouble letting go?” He sipped the last of his drink and added the cup to the pile.
His words stung.
As a teenager, she’d struggled with letting go of her will to follow God’s and obey her parents. After her mom and dad split, she’d fought letting go of a life that no longer existed. She didn’t know how to let go. To accept things she didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry, Livi. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She sat straight and wrapped her arms around her knees, keeping her attention trained on the Atlantic and not Blake’s probing gaze. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right.”
Now was the time to give answers to his questions, before they ventured any further into—whatever this was. Give him a chance to leave before she made
the stupid mistake of giving him her heart.
“I was raised in a Christian home. I don’t remember a time I wasn’t in church. My parents were active members. They helped out with many things over the years. Taught Sunday school, lead music, cleaned and maintained the building—whatever was needed.
“They taught me to love my neighbor, serve God, stay pure until marriage. That a marriage commitment is forever. You know, the basic foundation of a Christian life. I made the decision to follow Christ when I was twelve.”
Blake scooted closer and put his arm around her back. “I’m really glad to hear that.”
That cold, dark cellar of her mind yawned wide. Blake propped her up as she leaned into him. His warm hand rubbed her upper arm, urging her to continue. That simple gesture of human kindness had her spewing pieces of her story into the air like a feather pillow that had ripped open.
“A little over a year ago, it came out that my dad was having an affair. It’d been going on for a couple of years actually. Still is. She’s not that much older than I am.”
Blake blew out a puff of air.
“Turns out my parents hadn’t had a happy marriage for most of my life. I had no idea. All those principles they taught me, those rules they were determined I follow, suddenly didn’t apply to them.”
He pulled her closer. “I’m sorry.”
A lump of despair rose in her throat, and she swallowed it back down. How could Blake be sorry when her parents weren’t?
A single tear escaped. “They chose not to reconcile. Dad says it’s time to do what makes him happy. Mom’s decided to sow the wild oats she didn’t sow when she was young because she’d chosen to become a wife and mother instead. Now I’m stuck trying to navigate a life based on deception with no map.”
Blake cleared his throat. “That’s when you came here.”
She nodded. “Every day, I went to my office and helped people sort out their problems. Repair their marriages. Escape the pit of depression. Then I found myself in that very pit, except everything I used to help my patients didn’t work for me. I cracked.”
So did her voice.
Blake stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. I crawled deep inside myself to a place dark and ugly. I became detached. Like…like I wasn’t inside of my body. I could see myself, could hear myself speaking, but I had no control.”
“You…you didn’t try to hurt yourself, did you?”
She met his gaze. “No, nothing like that. I didn’t want to end my life, but I didn’t know what to do with it, either. I spent a few days in a facility while they tried to pinpoint a cure. That’s when I realized how broken our mental health care system is. I was put in the same ward with sobering addicts and people suffering with severe mental illness. The things I heard and saw… It was horrifying.
“After I got released, I knew I couldn’t stick around and watch my parents destroy each other over money and possessions. I couldn’t go through it all again. Grandma offered me a haven.”
Olivia had never expected to tell a man she’d only known for four months the detailed extent of her pain. The confession lightened the weight of her heavy soul, somehow. She stared at the water and imagined dumping her turmoil into the foamy waves below. Watching it carry them far out to sea, never to return.
She laid her head on his shoulder. If she never shared an intimate moment with this man, she at least had in him a friend. “Now are you scared?”
Blake palmed her hip and pulled her so close she was practically on his lap. “Nope.”
“It’s gonna be mighty hard dating a girl with my issues.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I know it’s easy for me to say, but what your parents taught you were the right things, whether they’re choosing to abide by those principles or not. As long as you keep going in the direction of Jesus, you’ll be going the right way.”
He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face. His dark eyes were earnest, full of honesty. “Besides, I’ll be here. Turns out you and I are heading to the same place.”
25
Blake had never read any of the classics, save for the ones required by his high school English teachers, but he could well imagine curling up with Olivia on the tiny couch she’d bought today and giving one a try. Or on his leather couch at home in front of the fireplace on a cold night.
Maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself with those thoughts, but after what she’d told him earlier, he wanted to tuck her away, wrap his arms around her and shield her from any more hurt. He couldn’t imagine her pain.
Sure, he’d dealt with his own amount of deception and loss, but not on that level. His parents’ love grew stronger with each passing year, and it showed. In fact, there were times even now when the two would act like newlyweds, and Blake would gladly excuse himself from the room. How devastating it must be to have that safe, nurturing blanket of love and trust ripped out from under you.
He gripped the last novel from the box and slid it onto the shelf with the others, while Olivia compressed the stack with a weathered mermaid bookend.
She stepped back to study the finished space. “It’s perfect, Blake. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He removed the tag still clipped to the wicker with his pocketknife.
Olivia yawned. Her hyperactive energy had depleted since their conversation at lunch, her mood settling into something in between sentimental and depressed. She glanced at her watch. “I should pick up Grandma and get home.”
He threw away the tag. “Want me to drive you both home?”
“That’s OK. Hopefully, Mrs. Campbell wore her out, and we’ll both get a full night’s sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll start planning your mom’s cake.”
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The scab she’d ripped off with her confession was still bleeding.
“Come here.” Blake opened his arms and, to his surprise, she stepped into them. She circled his waist, and he pulled her close. The silky strands of her hair tickled the back of his hand.
“Instead of us picking up the cake, will you consider delivery? I’d like you to meet my parents.”
She pulled back enough to see his face, eyes rounded. “After all I told you today, you want me to meet your family?”
“Absolutely.” He moved his hand up her back. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
Her head shook so slightly, he would’ve missed it had he not been absorbing every detail. She wasn’t turning down his offer, simply having trouble believing it.
She swallowed. “All right.”
Blake fought the desire to taste her lips and prove just how right he could make things for her. She wasn’t whole again, yet, and he refused to take advantage of her vulnerability. “Text me when you get home and settled.”
She pulled away in slow motion, almost as if she were as reluctant to break contact as he was. “I will.”
Four hours later, he was turning off his bedroom lamp when his cell buzzed with an incoming text.
Home. Rough evening. Thanks again for your help today. Goodnight.
Blake wished he could do more to lighten her load. He turned his lamp back on and opened his Bible to the passage he’d highlighted earlier. He texted back.
Joel 2:25. Sleep well.
26
This cake was a disaster.
Olivia stepped back and crossed her arms, fighting tears. “Don’t do this to me now.”
July was ending with a humid ninety-five degrees, melting her three-tiered masterpiece into mush.
The bakery’s ancient air-conditioning unit was straining to keep up with the temperature of the kitchen, which was nearly as hot as it was outside. And on the day of Blake’s mom’s birthday, no less.
Tears danced on the edges of her eyelids as a blob of buttercream slid down the side of the cake and plopped onto the bottom tier. She couldn’t let Blake down. Not after all he’d done for her. Not after he’d stuck around after her heavy conf
ession.
Brittany joined her at the table, cocking her head in the direction the cake leaned. “It’s not…that bad.”
Olivia smirked.
“OK, it is.” Brittany snapped. “But there’s a way to fix it. We can pipe little windows and arches and say it’s the leaning Tower of Pisa.”
Olivia buried her face in her hands, allowing tears to escape with a chuckle. “That’s not funny.”
Brittany gave her a side-arm hug. “Sure, it is. I’m hilarious.”
Olivia wiped tears with the back of her hand and sighed. Brittany had filled the few orders for multi-tiered cakes they’d gotten since offering the service. Olivia should’ve put her in charge of this one too instead of insisting on doing it herself.
“I used to be good at this, but I haven’t done one of this caliber in years. I thought it would be like riding a bike.”
Susan passed, carrying a tray of orange cranberry muffins. “It looks like someone ran over it with a bike,” she mumbled.
“Don’t listen to her.” Brittany elbowed Olivia’s arm.
It should be Olivia encouraging her employees, instilling confidence and ensuring them she was capable enough to run this company. Instead, she was proving to the group what a mess she really was.
Olivia bit her lip. “I’m supposed to deliver this in three hours.” She inhaled a deep breath, rubbed the back of her neck, and analyzed her predicament. The humidity was causing the layers to become unstable and the icing to melt. She needed to make the room cooler. But how? “I have to start over.” She turned to Brittany and projected her voice. “I need you to whip up some more buttercream. I’ll use the chilled layers of white and chocolate we’ve pre-baked for the Finecy wedding.” She faced the ovens. “Amelia, I need you to re-fill that order. Emily, can you please get me the small card table out of the office? I’ll be in the walk-in. Darlene, please keep an eye on Grandma.”
Olivia picked up the sloppy cake and balanced it on one hand while she entered the walk-in refrigerator. She’d have to cut the new layers to size, but, if she worked quickly, she could pull this off. She might be a little late to the party, but better late than on time with a cake they could sip through a straw.
How to Stir a Baker's Heart Page 14