The Little Brooklyn Bakery

by Julie Caplin

  ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘And today at work …’ he kissed her on the forehead, ‘I was a shit. It … running scared, I guess.’ His eyes met her hers and she saw the fleeting panic in them. A hint of terror that hit her hard, fracturing the little shell she’d tried to erect around her heart.

  It cracked wide open and with it came clanging alarm bells ringing out, vibrating through every last pore, and the weighty thump of realisation.

  She loved him. Stupidly, she’d fallen in love with him.

  She saw his throat working as he swallowed. She laid a finger on his lips, not wanting him to say any more.

  ‘And then … I phoned Mom. After w-work. She told me. Dad took Marty this morning. She w-wouldn’t … wouldn’t tell me where. Just that they’d decided. He’d gone. I let him down. I didn’t know … what to do. Where …’ He raised his head, his eyes stricken with fear and confusion.

  The instinct to comfort him overwhelmed her, crowding every other thought out as she took him into her arms, moulding her lips over his, pouring her love into the kiss. He clung to her, his hands clutching her back, pulling her into him as if trying to absorb her into his body. Between them need began to build, a desperate pull of gentle desire seated in comfort and longing.

  Still kissing him, she pulled him to his feet. With unusual docility he let her take charge as she took him into her bedroom. When she pushed him to sit on the bed, he sat stiffly as she knelt to take off his shoes. As she went to peel off his socks, he slipped a jerky hand down to stroke her cheek, the barely-there touch so gentle, as if he might break if he moved too much. She parted his thighs and moved between them, rising to unbutton his shirt. He made no move to help, his eyes holding hers the whole time. When she slipped the linen fabric away from his shoulders she heard him sigh her name as her fingers grazed his warm skin. In front of him she undressed quickly before pushing him back to lie on the bed, unzipping his shorts. He lifted his hips as she removed them and then she climbed on the bed to lie next to him. His arms closed around her, pulling her until they were skin to skin, not an inch between them, his grip so tight as if he was scared she might leave. His lips grazed her forehead, skimming the hairline, his breaths light and shallow.

  ‘Sophie,’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s OK.’ She traced a kiss up his neck, with a fleeting brush over his lips. ‘It’s OK.’

  With a heavy sigh, he breathed out, the tension leaving his body, his hold on her not quite so desperate. Almost involuntarily she stroked his back as they lay together, her head tucked between his neck and shoulder, nothing but the sound of their breathing punctuating the close air of the bedroom.

  At some point he shifted, kissing her neck and moving down to scatter tiny kisses along her collar bone, whispering her name. The sight of his dark head bent over her body brought a wave of unbearable tenderness and a warm ache between her thighs. Shifting slightly, she pulled him on top of her, lifting her hips in silent invitation, opening her legs. He raised his head and looked down at her. The brief wordless exchange as he stared into her eyes made her heart hitch, the intense sensation of love blossoming and blooming in her chest almost too much to bear. With a muffled groan he dipped his head and kissed her hard on the lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth. He moved between them and slid slowly inside her.

  Unlike their previous times, the air was charged with emotion, as if the gravity of the moment had infused the room. Each thrust and slide was slow and languid. The sensation of skin and heat built, slow and sure and with each push and pull her heart flooded with emotion. Holding her gaze, his eyes darkened. A heartfelt moan escaped as the feelings began to build, an overwhelming wave bearing down on her. She sucked in an almost panicked breath, a quick dart of fear that this was too much. Too much to take, to bear and then it hit. A punch of pleasure sending shockwaves bursting through her body, subsiding into ripple after ripple of feeling so intense it was almost painful. With a shudder and a guttural groan, Todd slid home one last time, his arms trembling before he collapsed on top of her, the weight of his body a welcome testament to the knowledge that filled her.

  ‘I love you,’ the words escaped on a whisper of sheer explosive joy. She could no more have kept them in than stopped breathing.

  Todd’s hold on her tightened and he rolled over, taking her with him. His ragged breath grazed her cheek, but he didn’t say a word. It didn’t matter. Sophie had no regrets. She loved him, heart and soul and in that moment. Placing a gentle kiss on his neck, she settled in his arms, bathed in a sense of utter contentment. Strangely confident, she smiled to herself, proud that she could say the words. She’d spoken the truth. If Todd couldn’t deal with it, that was his problem.

  As if exhausted by the weight of emotion, they both slept.

  The smell of coffee woke her along with the dip of the mattress. When she opened her eyes, Todd smiled down at her, a cup in his hand, perched on the edge of the bed, twisting towards her.

  ‘Morning.’ The husky timbre in his voice held a touch of shyness.

  ‘Hey, you,’ she said, her words soft with sleep. This morning he looked so much better, his eyes less troubled and the dark shadows under them less pronounced. The familiar pull of desire tugged as she took in the sight of his bare chest, one of her towels wrapped around his lean hips. Feeling feminine and that prick of satisfied pride, that this gorgeous man was all hers, whether he knew it or not, she pulled herself up to sit against her pillow, covering her nudity with the sheet, taking the coffee from him.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No, thank you.’ He leaned forward and brushed her hair from her face. ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘Shush. What time is it?’

  ‘Seven.’

  Sophie took a sip of coffee. ‘I need to get ready for work. Are you coming into the office today?’

  ‘Yeah, not sure I’ll get much done. Yesterday was a write-off, but I need to do something.’

  ‘I don’t know, it looked as if you honed your juggling skills nicely.’ Sophie’s attempt at a teasing smile didn’t quite hit the mark.

  He winced. ‘Sorry, I was—’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say, Don’t worry, I forgive you, but that wasn’t right and he needed to know. If she was brave enough to tell him she loved him, she was brave enough to tell him how he’d made her feel. ‘Yes, you were. I know you were upset, but it hurt. No matter what happens, we’re friends. You don’t treat friends like that.’ She tilted her chin up with an uncompromising stare.

  Lifting her hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed the knuckle on her thumb. ‘You’re right. And you didn’t deserve it. You’re … too …’ Sadness tinged his smile as he looked at her.

  ‘It’s OK.’ The words sounded so inadequate. ‘I wish there was something I could do to help.’

  ‘You already did.’ Her pulse leapt at the expression in his eyes. ‘You were there when I needed you, last night. Thank you.’ He linked his fingers through hers where her hand lay on her lap and squeezed them. ‘But, it doesn’t mean … I needed a friend …’

  Sophie held her breath, she knew what was coming. Watching his profile as he studied the opposite wall as if there was something completely fascinating about the point where it met the ceiling, she knew he was struggling with what she said to him last night. Could almost see him fighting with it.

  ‘You said …’ his jaw clenched. ‘You …’

  Reaching out, she touched his arm. ‘I said I loved you.’ Her voice was remarkably clear and steady, even though her heart pounded.

  ‘That. Yes.’

  For some reason she kept perfectly still, almost as if he were a deer she might frighten away.

  He turned to her, bleakness etched in the lines around his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘Todd,’ her voice gentled, the sense of pity for his confusion stronger than anything else. ‘It’s my choice.’ Except there hadn’t been any choice. Not for her anyway.

 
She saw him swallow again. ‘I watch my parents, over and over declaring how much they love each other. The next minute they’re tearing each other to shreds, picking at each other’s vulnerabilities. It’s like a battleground, where what they share when they’re in love seems to give them the most ammunition and insight to hit the weakest, most hurtful spot. They can’t even behave in front of other people. It’s so damn public. I hate it. I couldn’t bear to live like that. And I went and did it to you yesterday. I hurt you.’

  ‘Not intentionally. You were hurting. There’s a difference. Lots of people have happy relationships, but love does open you up to being hurt. But it’s worth the risk because of all the wonderful bits that come with loving someone and being loved.’

  ‘It’s not a risk I want to take. I’ve spent most of my life observing the war zone that’s my parents’ marriage. It’s like asking a war correspondent to ditch his pen and take up arms.’

  ‘Interesting analogy.’ She could think of far better ones.

  ‘Sophie, you’ll be going home soon and yeah, I’m going to miss you. I know that much. Who else is going to keep me in check? But, don’t be in love with me. Please. I’m not worth it.’

  She held her breath, wanting to tell him he was wrong, but the stubborn set of his jaw and the sadness haunting his half-smile made her pause. Twenty-odd years of conditioning weren’t going to be overcome that easily. All she could do was share her love with him, but she wasn’t going to deny its existence.

  ‘Todd,’ her voice was firm, ‘I knew all that when we started this. Loving you is my choice. Well,’ she let the smile slip through, deliberately teasing, ‘I can’t help it.’ She stroked his bicep. ‘You’re fairly irresistible.’

  One side of his mouth quirked.

  ‘And quite sexy. Not bad looking either.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘And quite hot in the sack.’

  With a sudden change in his mood, he removed the coffee cup from her hand and lunged at her, pinning her to the bed. ‘What’s with the quite hot?’

  ‘Reasonably hot?’

  He stroked a hand down her body, skimming her nipples, down across her stomach, brushing her skin and down between her thighs and back up again, making her moan with sudden desire.

  ‘Smokin’ hot?’ he rasped in her ear before sliding his mouth over hers with possessive thoroughness, his tongue delving in, sending spikes of excitement dancing through her nerve endings.

  ‘Smoking,’ she gasped and then wriggled away. ‘And some of us have to get to work.’ She threw back the corner of the covers. ‘I need to get in the shower and get ready.’

  ‘Need a back scrub?’ And just like that, they were back to normal. She wasn’t going to stop loving him. Todd was just going to have to live with it.

  Chapter 27

  The phone on Todd’s desk rang and Sophie reached over to pick it up realising, as she did, that none of the harem had phoned in the last two weeks. No word from Amy or Charlene.

  ‘Hello.’

  There was silence before a young, panicky voice asked, ‘Can I speak to Todd McLennan? I think … he works there.’

  ‘Marty?’

  ‘Yes,’ the voice squeaked.

  ‘It’s Sophie. He’s not here at the moment, but I know he’ll want to speak to you.’

  ‘When is he back? I’ve only got a minute but I really need to speak to him.’

  ‘He’s at a press launch, he’s not going to be back until after lunch. Have you got his mobile number?’

  ‘No, I … I’ve … erm … borrowed someone’s cell phone.’ The diffidence suggested that the term borrowed might be relative.

  ‘Have you got a pen? I’ll give it to you.’

  ‘Er, hang on.’ There were sounds of drawers being opened and shut. ‘Got one.’

  Sophie reeled off the number from her own phone. ‘Are you OK? Can he call you back on this number?’

  ‘Not exactly. I’m in one of the offices. It took me ages to find Todd’s work number. I’ll probably get court martialled if I get caught in here,’ Marty muttered, clearly not wanting to be overheard.

  ‘Where are you? Are you OK?’

  ‘I am OK,’ Marty sounded surprised. ‘It’s not too bad. I was homesick the first week, but some of the other guys are cool. We get to do PT every day. It’s kind of strict but I don’t mind that. You know where you are with everything. Yeah, I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. But I don’t have my laptop or phone. Dad took them, told me they weren’t allowed, but they are. I wanted Todd … to get them for me.’

  Sophie almost laughed at his teenage self-absorption. Poor Todd had been worried sick about his brother over the last two weeks and Marty’s greatest concern was not being online. Although it was probably a good thing. Todd would be relieved to hear that Marty was OK and not desperately unhappy.

  ‘If you don’t speak to him, I’ll tell him you called. Give me your address?’

  She wrote it down quickly before he hung up. Hopefully he’d have time to call Todd before he got caught. What a relief, she couldn’t wait to speak to Todd, but she’d leave it a few minutes before she called him, to let Marty get through.

  As it happened, she was called into a meeting with Trudy before she could speak to Todd and when she tried to phone him, his cell went straight to voicemail. She left a message, hoping that he’d pick it up soon, as she wouldn’t be seeing him until later. They were double dating – Todd’s terminology – meeting up with Wes and Bella, who were on date number four and taking things slowly.

  ‘Sophie, I wanted to catch up with you.’ Trudy sat behind her desk. ‘How are you enjoying your time with us?’

  ‘It’s great,’ said Sophie with enthusiasm. ‘I’m loving working on my new feature.’ She’d been so inspired by Mario and the stories he’d shared about his family setting up the restaurant and their original Tuscan roots that she’d suggested a regular feature for the magazine, each month focusing on a different ethnic culture, exploring the dishes and the restaurants in the city. ‘I knew New York was diverse, but there’s so much material. I’ve found this amazing Ethiopian place in Harlem that I’m thinking about featuring for the March issue. And then there’s a really interesting Portuguese place, with nata to die for.’

  ‘Fantastic. The feature you’ve done on the Italian family for the February issue looks wonderful. You’ve got a real flair for bringing food to life. One of the best food writers we’ve had working here. I’m going to come right out with it. Would you consider staying?’

  Sophie’s mouth literally dropped open.

  ‘We can extend your working visa. I’d really like to keep you. Reader feedback on your English afternoon tea feature has been through the roof. The chief editorial director loved it and so did the advertising director. You’re a seriously talented writer. It’s a godsend having someone who knows food the way you do. Please say you’ll consider it.’

  ‘I … I don’t know what to say. It never occurred to me that I might stay.’

  ‘Say you’ll think about it,’ urged Trudy, echoing Angela’s words all those months ago.

  She thought about it all the way back to Brooklyn on the subway. Thought about it until her head spun. Todd. Bella. London. Her friends back home. Todd. What would he say? Since that night when she’d told him she loved him, there’d been tiny, almost infinitesimal changes. Somehow, he seemed softer. More tender. His touches more frequent and more intimate. The way he touched her face when he kissed her. The way he took her to bed with careful consideration. Some days she wondered if maybe he did love her just a little. They never talked about the future or referred to anything beyond the end of October which was when she was due to leave. Could she stay? How would he react to her staying?

  When she arrived at the bar, he was already there, and as soon as he saw her he hailed a waiter to order a white wine. ‘Hey English,’ he brushed her mouth with a teasing kiss, while sliding his hand under her hair to stroke the back of her neck. ‘How was your day?
’

  ‘Interesting,’ she replied. ‘Did you get my message?’

  ‘No, I forgot to charge my cell this morning. I got distracted, if you will recall.’ His direct stare made her blush.

  ‘That wasn’t my fault. I was cleaning my teeth.’ Her legs turned to jelly at the memory of his naked body sliding up against hers early that morning. His hands cupping her breasts and his hungry expression staring back at her in the mirror.

  ‘There’s cleaning your teeth and cleaning your teeth, English,’ he growled.

  ‘How do I clean my teeth?’ she asked, amused.

  ‘Sexily,’ said Todd.

  She rolled her eyes and then remembered. ‘Marty called.’

  ‘Marty!’ He immediately tensed, his fingers gripping his beer bottle so hard the tendons stood out white against his tanned skin.

  She laid a hand over his wrist. ‘He’s OK.’

  Quickly, she relayed the conversation, watching the tension leach out of his fingers.

  ‘Thank goodness for that. I guess the discipline might do him good.’ Draining his beer, he let out a half-laugh. ‘Typical that what drives him to get in touch is wanting his computer. Maybe we could catch a flight down to Charleston this weekend. Go see the boy.’ Eagerly, he pulled out his phone and then his face fell, as he remembered it was dead. ‘I can sort out a laptop and a phone for him. Let’s hope the Pentagon firewalls are Marty-proof.’ With a thoughtful sigh, he shook his head. ‘Maybe I should warn them.’

  ‘I think you should go on your own,’ said Sophie with a gentle smile. ‘You probably want some time together. He needs to know that you’re there for him.’

  ‘Yes, but he likes you.’

  ‘He needs stability in his life,’ Sophie reminded him.

  For a moment Todd looked blankly at her. ‘You’re pretty stable.’

  ‘Exactly.’ She wanted to shake him for being so damn obtuse.

  ‘So why can’t you come? Marty would love to see you. We could get a nice hotel, fix up a whole weekend. Take him out for a burger, we’d have a nice meal.’