The Forget-Me-Not Bakery

by Caroline Flynn

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she teased. ‘And what about you, Bryce?’ She turned toward Cohen’s son. ‘Do you approve?’

  Bryce tilted his plate to reveal only a few tiny crumbs left on it. ‘Does that answer your question?’

  ‘Loud and clear.’ A swell of pride bubbled up within her. ‘Which brings me to my question.’

  ‘Do I want more cake?’ Bryce quipped. ‘You bet!’

  ‘No more cake for you,’ Cohen piped up. ‘That massive slice you just inhaled is going to have you bouncing off the walls half the night.’

  His son feigned disappointment, then cast a glance over at Paige and shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips.

  ‘No, that wasn’t where I was going with that,’ she replied. ‘But it is about cake, in a roundabout way. I was thinking we could band together and organize a fundraiser for Helen. I know she’s probably got insurance, but who knows when that’s going to kick in, or how much will be replaced.’

  Cohen’s face lit up. ‘Paige, that’s a great idea. It really is. Let me guess: You’re going to sell cakes, and Bryce and I are going to buy them.’

  She almost choked on her mouthful of cake. Struggling to swallow it down, she exclaimed, ‘That’s not really what I meant. I want you to help me organize the event. I figure if we had you, Allison, and I spearheading it, that’s three downtown businesses that can get involved. With yours and Allison’s knowledge of everyone who lives here, and a few hundred decorated cupcakes donated by yours truly, it would be a good start toward getting some well-deserved money together for Helen.’

  Cohen stared at Paige for a long moment, long enough that she wondered if she had said something wrong. When he snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, he held out his hand. ‘That’s one of the nicest, most thoughtful things I’ve heard in a long time, Paige. You can count me in.’

  There was so much excitement buzzing through Paige, she could barely sit still. She reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. ‘Yeah? This is going to be fun, Cohen. Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.’

  ‘If that was meant to dissuade me, you’re not very good at it.’

  Paige hadn’t meant to even say it out loud, but Cohen’s reply had her rethinking her earlier stance about this truly being only friendship between them. His confession that he wasn’t opposed to spending more time with her, mingled with the way his hand felt so warm and comforting wrapped around hers …

  A big part of her hoped she wasn’t getting in over her head when it came to Cohen Beckett.

  Another part of her hoped that was exactly what she was doing.

  ‘You know what’s going to be the hardest part of pulling off this fundraiser?’ She pulled her hand gently away, steering the conversation away from whatever the heck was happening between them. Her eyes lit up with mischief.

  ‘Decorating a few hundred cupcakes?’ Cohen guessed.

  ‘Nah, that’ll be a breeze compared to making sure Bryce doesn’t eat them just as fast as we can bake them.’

  Both Cohen and Bryce chuckled.

  ‘Agreed, Paige,’ Cohen said. ‘Definitely agreed.’

  Chapter 8

  Cohen

  He had taken a giant leap of faith by admitting he wanted to spend more time with Paige. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Somehow, things just came out of his mouth when she was around. Things he knew damn well he should keep to himself. Someone was going to get hurt.

  He was going to get hurt.

  To anybody else, making a joke about being unable to deter a man from wanting to hang out with a woman would have been just a flimsy comment that held no weight. With Paige, though, his convoluted confession felt more like a leap he’d taken without opening his parachute first. A silly comment that wasn’t. He meant it, even if he didn’t understand it.

  Cohen Beckett didn’t take huge gambles with his heart. Hell, he didn’t take any gambles with it. He hadn’t shown interest in anyone in eight years. No dates, no desire to seek someone else out in hopes of building a relationship. He told himself it was due to lack of time, but he knew better. It was lack of courage. Lack of guts. Until someone lived through the awful pain that came with losing a spouse – and he would never wish that kind of hell on anyone – they wouldn’t understand his reasons for keeping love at a distance. He couldn’t go through that kind of grief again. He just couldn’t.

  But there was something about Paige Henley that he couldn’t put his finger on. Something that prodded at Cohen’s mind and made him believe, even if it were only in brief instances, that there was more to a relationship than inevitable pain.

  But it was the more he struggled with. And for every brief second he believed in more, there were a thousand other seconds that consumed him, reminding him of what he had gone through. What he’d lost. Who he’d lost. Eight years had done little to heal that wound.

  It was three days before Cohen’s schedule allowed for even a glimpse of Paige again. A few sporadic texts from her confirmed she was just as busy. He had been swamped with appointments and surgeries, and she’d been desperate to keep up with the daily baking for the bakery. There was no rest period for business owners, and nine-to-five was a joke they told themselves in an attempt to remain sane. It was only because Cohen had blocked off a twenty-minute slot on the appointment schedule in the afternoon that he was able to make a run over to the bakery at all.

  He knew he looked frazzled. It had been a trying day. Rhonda had called in sick, leaving him to fend for himself when it came to lab work, triage, and drawing up vaccines. And that was just to name a few things. Each day he spent without Rhonda at the clinic – and they were few and far between, thank God – he was reminded just how wholly he relied on her. He would never blame her for needing a day off, but he made a mental note to tell her how much he appreciated her help, just in case he didn’t say it often enough.

  Between Rhonda’s absence, an overbooked surgery schedule in the morning, and a back-to-back appointment schedule in the afternoon, Cohen was drowning. But he made the trek down the sidewalk, anyway, leaving Alice at the reception desk to fend off the clients for a few minutes while he took a moment for himself.

  He was disappointed to see two other customers in the bakery when he pushed open the door. The bell clanged above his head, and they turned from the cupcake tower on display to stare at him. So did Paige, her head poking up suddenly from behind the counter. The wide grin that crossed her face at the sight of him was both unexpected and contagious, and he found himself smiling, too, as he crossed the room to close the gap between them.

  ‘I was starting to think you’d moved,’ he teased. ‘Just jumped in that Maserati of yours and got the hell out of dodge.’

  ‘Maserati?’ She quirked an eyebrow, standing up to her full height and pushing the unmade takeout boxes she must have been digging for under the counter onto it, dusting some of the flour off her hands and apron.

  ‘Yeah, isn’t that what all the city girls drive in New York City?’

  Paige pressed a hand to her chest and gave a hollow chuckle. ‘For your information, it’s a Volkswagen Golf. But if we’re playing the stereotype game, which one are you – the small-town country boy with the souped-up pickup truck, or the uppity doctor with the Lexus for the weekdays and Lamborghini for the weekends?’

  He clutched at his own chest, feigning hurt. ‘Ouch,’ he said, unable to even out his grin. ‘I wish I could say I’m guilty as charged to the Lamborghini, but unfortunately there’s a two-year-old Honda Civic in my driveway that begs to differ.’

  ‘Somehow, I’m not surprised.’

  ‘What, that I drive a Civic?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, that you don’t fit into a stereotype.’

  ‘Well, that makes two of us, then.’

  She glanced past him at the customers near the cupcakes, then went about folding the cardboard boxes, folding the tabs in to make corners. ‘How have you been, Cohen? It’s been busy h
ere, or else I would have come by to say hello.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain,’ he assured her. ‘It’s been insane at the clinic. I think it’s safe to say the summer rush has officially begun.’

  ‘Between summer and wedding season, I’m destined to be up to my eyeballs in icing until September.’

  ‘Getting lots of wedding cake orders?’ He wasn’t sure how that worked, exactly, but figured it must be hectic and time-consuming to have multiple custom orders on top of the everyday baked goods for the shop.

  ‘A few.’ She folded the boxes without really looking at them. It was easy to tell she had done it countless times before. ‘But Allison’s wedding cake is special to me, so I’m driving myself crazy over it. Not to mention, the list of ideas I have for cupcakes for the fundraiser is growing by the hour, so I’m going to have my hands full.’

  ‘Don’t feel like you’re obligated to pull this fundraiser off.’ He ducked down to make sure she was focused on him. ‘And you certainly don’t have to do it alone.’ The conviction in his voice surprised him.

  But she waved a dismissive hand. ‘I want to help Mrs O’Connor,’ she replied. ‘I just need to stick to a strict schedule over the next few weeks and we should be able to make it work.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘We. We’ll do it together, Paige.’ If the tables were turned, he would want to hear those words. That’s why he was adamant about getting that through her pretty little head. And that was the story he was sticking to.

  She narrowed her eyes, obviously amused. ‘You sure you’re up for decorating a mountain of cupcakes between now and the end of the month?’

  Yikes, he thought. That’s only two weeks away. But Cohen nodded his head, feigning confidence in his decision. ‘Of course. You tell me where to be, and when, and we’ll decorate cupcakes until we’re cross-eyed.’

  Paige laughed. ‘Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.’

  ‘It’ll be fun. I’ll spread the word. Cupcakes for sale, for a good cause. Mountains of cupcakes.’

  ‘Trust me, that won’t be an exaggeration. After this, you’ll never want to see a cupcake as long as you live.’

  ‘And my waistline will thank you for that, I’m sure.’ Cohen pointed toward the scones in the display case beside him. ‘Which reminds me, I’d better buy a half dozen of those. The staff at the clinic probably won’t let me back in the door without them.’

  ‘You know, you don’t have to buy something every time you come in here.’ Nevertheless, Paige went about boxing up the apple and cinnamon scones.

  ‘I’m not sure my staff members would agree with you,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘So, Allison and Christopher have set a wedding date, then? I’ve heard conflicting rumors about that.’

  Paige’s forehead crinkled. ‘Conflicting rumors?’ She slid the box across the counter to him.

  ‘Three different stories, actually,’ he advised. People loved to gossip, and the longer the rumors floated around town, the more convoluted the truth got.

  ‘Three, huh?’

  With her hand on her hip, eyebrows arched high, Cohen had to press his lips together. He knew she had heard about the steady stream of gossiping that small towns were well-known for, but the mix of surprise and disbelief on her pretty face proved that she’d never really experienced it first-hand until now.

  ‘Yes, three,’ he confirmed, leaning against the counter. If he was going to delve into the town’s gossip grapevine, which he rarely did, then Cohen was going to damn well enjoy it. ‘The first story I heard was that they already eloped and this ceremony will just be for show. But I think you’d tell me if that was true.’

  Paige scoffed. ‘Of course I would,’ she said. Then, in a low, mischievous tone, ‘Or would I?’

  Cohen rolled his eyes, but he liked that she was having fun with this, too. ‘The second story was that the engagement will last forever, with no actual marriage in sight, seeing as it took so many years of dating to get to the proposal in the first place.’

  Paige looked appalled. ‘Wow, how romantic,’ she balked. ‘I’ll bet the guy who started that rumor doesn’t believe in happily-ever-afters.’

  ‘Which is why I tend to believe the third rumor,’ Cohen told her. ‘I believe they’ll end up getting married soon. Fast. No more waiting around.’

  ‘You’re that guy, huh?’ Paige gave nothing away, but her eyes sparkled brightly.

  She hoped for the same thing, then.

  ‘I’m definitely that guy. Like a wise ten-year-old boy once said, when you know, you know.’

  ‘Definitely a wise boy,’ she said, grinning. ‘You believe in happily-ever-afters?’

  Cohen didn’t look away, and he didn’t hesitate. And for the second time that day, the conviction in his voice rattled him. ‘Everyone has to believe in something, Paige.’

  He could have stayed in that bakery all day. The banter between him and Paige had remained light and easy, as usual. But he managed to learn things about her, little by little, through her comments and answers. Conversations with her seemed to be like that; they said one thing, but the undertones of their words spoke just as loudly as the words themselves.

  And when he invited her to come along on his walk with Jazz and Bryce, there was no mistaking the flash of hesitancy that marred her features. Cohen knew immediately what she was thinking, as though she’d said the words aloud. He recognized it, like looking in a mirror.

  She felt uncertain and worried that they were getting too attached. That they were getting in too deep after such a short time of knowing each other.

  Cohen didn’t blame her. He wondered those things, too. Hell, he analyzed them over and over in his head like clockwork, trying to figure out if he was making a mistake by being so friendly.

  But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to keep her friendship. He could tell himself time and time again that it was a dangerous game he was playing, and that it could end badly if he wasn’t more careful, but the tether that bound him to Paige didn’t loosen despite his concerns. She graciously accepted his offer with shadows in her eyes, and Cohen looked forward to letting Bryce choose what part of Port Landon he wanted to introduce her to that evening. Bryce was always a good one to ease his mind; he hoped his boy could do the same for Paige.

  ‘Boss. Earth to Cohen.’

  Cohen’s head snapped up. ‘Yeah?’ Head in the clouds, he had a feeling Rhonda had called his name a few times.

  ‘Sonya Ritter’s in the waiting room. She’s asking for you.’ Her voice carried over to him from behind him, where she was placing a glass slide under the microscope. When he looked up from the textbook he’d been poring over, she was staring at him, curious.

  Cohen muttered his thanks and nothing more. He knew why Sonya was here. After he left Paige’s shop, he’d ducked into the coffeehouse beside it and ordered four large coffees to go, for himself and his staff members to enjoy along with the scones. Allison, who seemed to be glowing with happiness as she scurried from one end of the ordering counter to the other, always in constant motion, had just been in the process of making a fresh pot, so she promised to bring it over to him at the veterinary clinic when it was done brewing.

  Sonya had either been delegated as the deliverer, or she’d jumped at the chance to bring the coffee over herself.

  Cohen would bet his salary it had been the latter.

  ‘Sonya, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ Cohen offered her a genuine smile. He liked the woman. She had a good heart, was a good friend, and meant well in everything she did. That didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the mischief in her eyes when he saw it. ‘Because I know you can’t just be delivering my coffees, and you don’t own a pet.’

  ‘Good to see you, too, Dr Cohen.’ The woman held out the tray of paper cups to him. ‘You know me, I just had to come and see it for myself.’

  ‘See what?’ He took the tray from her hands and braced himself, fearful of what her answer might be. It was hard to know with Sonya.

 
Her knowing look came before the words fell from her mouth. ‘Why, the smitten good doctor, that’s what!’ She made no attempt to lower her voice, and Cohen didn’t dare turn around to meet his receptionist’s gaze. But he could feel it burning into his back, just as Rhonda’s was from the doorway of the lab.

  ‘Oh, Sonya.’ He sounded almost apologetic. ‘I don’t know what you think you know, but—’

  ‘It doesn’t take much to see what’s blossoming between you and the brunette baker girl down the street,’ she announced gleefully. ‘A blind man could see that.’

  Cohen fought to keep the exasperation from his voice. ‘Sonya, my friendship with Paige—’

  ‘Friendship?’ The older woman balked at the notion. She mimicked his sympathetic tone. ‘Oh, Cohen. Maybe you’re the blind man.’

  He opened his mouth to retort, or defend himself, or something. But Sonya was already partway out the door. She turned just before the door closed, winked at him, and Cohen swore he felt the air change around him. Goosebumps rose on his bare forearms.

  Sonya was getting to him. Her meddling made him wonder what exactly she was saying to Paige, and in turn it made him concerned that her incessant desire to play matchmaker was the reason for Paige’s hesitation earlier. He made a mental note to remind her that Sonya was harmless. Headstrong and overbearing, but harmless. She was always one to read too much into things, to push a bit too hard and stick her nose in places it really didn’t belong.

  And no matter how far off course he believed Sonya Ritter was about the relationship he had with Paige, he couldn’t deny that there was a small sliver of his heart that wondered, and maybe, possibly even hoped, that she was right.

  Chapter 9

  Paige

  She thought she’d loved Port Landon when she first came here, completely enamored by the vintage quaintness of the harbor-side and the downtown street, awestruck by the natural prettiness of the rows of trees that lined the residential streets and the meticulously landscaped front yards with abundant flowers and shrubs. Flowers had only been in the beginning stages of blooming, and the leaves hadn’t been out in full flourish yet.