Baking for Keeps

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Baking for Keeps Page 11

by Jessica Gilmore


  But she was going to win this so what was the harm? “Done.”

  “Shake on it?”

  Lacey hesitated then slipped her hand out of its bulky padded glove and extended it to Zac. His grip was warm, firm, and Lacey had an urge to fall into it, to be enfolded by him. She pulled her hand free, quickly, pasting a bright smile on her face. “Sledges are this way. They’re all named so take your pick but Rudolph is mine. You can’t miss it; it has a red nose painted on.”

  After ten or so trudges up to the top of the slopes, Lacey’s calves and thighs were beginning to ache. Not only did the slope get quite a bit sleeper the higher she got but cutting a path through the snow was challenging even after they had trodden a visible path. The sledge was heavy as she tugged it behind her, her breath coming quick and her body uncomfortably warm in its thermal layers. She welcomed every twinge. Welcomed any physical pain that took her mind away from thinking about the dark undercurrents in Zac’s voice, the feel of his hand encompassing hers.

  Was she a fool to spend time alone with him knowing how thin the line was between friendship and attraction? Knowing how short a time he would be in her life? Zac was right. She should be exploring all the dating opportunities she had in Marietta and the surrounding counties. There were entire ranches full of men. Men who held the same values she did, who wanted the same things. She should be taking them skiing not a restless traveler, eager for the next town, the next adventure.

  “Okay. Who’s counting us down?” They’d reached the top of the slope and Zac had already positioned his sledge, concentration writ clear on his face. Lacey lined hers up a good thirty feet away and sat down, gripping the rope tightly between her hands. She stared down the slope, mentally plotting the best route, not just for speed but also as bump free as possible and hopefully one that would keep her clear out of Zac’s path.

  “I will. Are you ready?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Lacey shot him a quick glance. Zac sounded determined; he was as keen to win this as she was. “Okay then…” She put one leg up onto the sledge, ready, the other poised to push. “Ready. Get set. Go!” With the last word she pushed with her leg and then again as the sledge moved sluggishly through the snow. A third push and it gained traction, moving faster and faster. Lacey pulled her second leg in, bracing both against the metal bar, the rope in her hands and her body leaning forward to add as much weight as possible.

  It was like flying, the sledge skimming over the snow at breakneck speed, the wind rushing in her ears as snow flew up in a fine spray, coating her in a mist. She yelled in exhalation and heard Zac echo the call.

  All her attention was on the route ahead, on keeping her course, ensuring her weight was distributed properly, that she was as streamlined as she could be as she plummeted down the slope. She hit the more gentle lower slopes, momentum keeping her going until an unseen bump lurched her to one side. Lacey hung on, tugging at the rope to get back on track, shifting her weight to ensure she didn’t fall. She desperately tried to get back into position without losing speed.

  She’d lost sight of Zac until a warning yell made her look up and she saw him hurtling toward her, pulling his rope to try and change direction. Lacey closed her eyes as he skimmed closer, closer and then, with just a slight clip of her rail he was upon her. The clip knocked her to one side and she tumbled into the snow, rolling over and over until she finally came to a stop.

  Lacey blinked the snow out of her eyes and tentatively tried to sit, a few twinges warning her of impending bruises. Snow covered her arms and legs as if she had been coated in it and she shook it off, sitting up gingerly.

  “Lacey? Are you okay?” Zac appeared beside her. “I tried to avoid you but I was going so fast…”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. It was just a clip. My fault, I was so busy trying to win I didn’t get out of the way in time. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I didn’t fall. Are you hurt? Anything sprained, bruised, or broken?”

  “Only my pride,” she said ruefully. “Honestly. What a klutz.” She took the hand he held out to her and allowed Zac to haul her to her feet. She stamped her feet to dislodge the snow. “Look, nothing broken.”

  “Good.” Zac had pushed his visor up and as Lacey looked up, a quip ready to break the tension, she faltered. His gaze was intent, heat darkening his eyes. Zac reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I thought I’d hurt you.”

  “You didn’t,” she almost whispered. “And I knew what I was getting into all along.”

  “Did you?”

  Lacey knew he wasn’t talking about sledging anymore. “I think so.”

  “I wish I knew.”

  His gaze was searching and Lacey’s mouth dried as she desperately tried to remember all the reasons kissing Zac Malone was a bad idea. There were many, many reasons. She’d listed them to herself before going to sleep last night and the night before but standing here in front of him, within touching distance, her mind was a blank. All she could think of was how impossibly warm brown eyes could be, how much she wanted to trace the line of his cheek, how firm his mouth was.

  And then he stepped back. “Your family will be worrying about us. We’d better get back. Are you up to driving the snowmobile or shall I?”

  Lacey blinked, as if waking up from a dream, suddenly aware that snow had got in to the neck of her jacket and her boots and she was rapidly chilling. “I’m fine,” she said, more tartly than she meant to and she stepped forward to retrieve her sledge, wobbling on sore legs as she did so. A warm hand covered hers as Zac gently took the rope out of her unresisting grasp.

  “I’ll take these back down.”

  “Fine,” she said aware that she was repeating herself and, after one more pat down, Lacey began to make her way down the slope and toward the small hut, her mind whirling in endless circles. Why had he backed away? Because she’d asked him to? She should be glad that Zac was adhering to her rules. But Lacey couldn’t help reliving that moment when she’d thought he was going to kiss her over and over. And not one of the many excellent reasons for not getting involved with Zac seemed worth the disappointment that had stabbed through her when he’d stepped away.

  It was cowardice—she knew that—fear of being rejected that stopped her getting close to people. She spent her life hiding behind a wall of chat and helpfulness, yet remaining the eternal outsider. Zac had felt safe; he was leaving after all. But there had been nothing safe in his gaze then.

  Maybe she should be taking some chances. Otherwise what? She’d stay at Crooked Corner all her life? Turn forty and still be living with her great-aunts like some Victorian spinster? Rejection was part of life and if she continued to let the fear of it rule her then she would never achieve anything including the family, the stability she craved so much.

  And maybe, just maybe she should start with Zac. So he was leaving. Did that mean they couldn’t explore what was between them just for a little while? Or would the fallout be more than her inexperienced heart could handle?

  Chapter Eleven

  Lacey was unusually quiet. She’d disappeared to her cousin’s room once they got back to the ranch house and had barely spoken on the ride home, staring out of the window instead. She’d wanted him to kiss her out on the ski slope, Zac knew that with every fiber of his being. And oh how he had wanted to.

  But he’d made her a promise just a few nights ago. He’d promised to be her friend. He’d promised not to hurt her. A few kisses on a few weeks’ acquaintance wouldn’t normally present any kind of problem but Lacey wasn’t a love them and leave them kind of girl. Her heart was too big, too open, too vulnerable. But still, Zac noticed the shadow in her eyes and hated himself for putting it there.

  The sound of the piano floated through the house, something mournful, the perfect soundtrack to Zac’s mood. He grabbed his coat. There was only one way to make amends.

  When he returned to Crooked Corner fifteen minutes later Lacey was still at the piano, the sad refrain cl
early audible as Zac walked up the porch steps. He stamped the snow off his shoes before opening the front door. Instead of heading down the hall to his rooms he took a sharp left into the den. Lacey was bent over the piano, intent on the notes spilling from her rapidly moving fingers. He stood there for a moment, drinking her in. The hastily knotted blonde hair, wisps caressing her long neck, the curve of her back, her supple waist. She was like coming home.

  Zac shook the thought from his head, stepping forward abruptly. “I sabotaged your toboggan win so here, consider it an apology and your victory spoils in one.”

  Lacey’s hands paused on the keys as she looked up at his words. Her eyes widened as, with a flourish, Zac presented her with the large paper cup. “Double chocolate, cream, chocolate sauce, and marshmallows. Oh and sprinkles.”

  “Oh my goodness,” she breathed taking the cup from him reverentially, inhaling the rich aroma blissfully. “This is amazing.”

  “Sage was about to shut up shop but I persuaded her this was an emergency.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “If you don’t want it, I’m sure I can find a home for it…”

  “No!” Lacey clutched the cup protectively. “I want it. Touch it at your peril.”

  Zac shrugged his coat off and sank onto the loveseat in the window bay, warmth spreading through him as she smiled at him. “Your peril I should think; I’m not sure I could manage that much chocolate and cream without being ill.”

  “That’s because you’re an amateur. You have to build up to a hot chocolate like this. Years of practice.”

  “I believe you.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Lacey. Thank you for today. For letting me meet your family.”

  Her gaze dropped to the bright cup, lashes long and thick on the curve of her cheek. “Thank the aunts, it was their idea.”

  “They took their cue from you. I haven’t spent a day as part of a family for a really long time. If the aunts had given me a choice I’d have run a marathon rather than go but in the end I enjoyed it.”

  “They liked you. You’re welcome there any time, you know.”

  “Your grandfather said—it was nice of him. I like him; I like them all.”

  “They’re likeable people.”

  Zac picked up a photo from the side table and studied it. It was a picture of Lacey in her college graduation gown, flanked by three beaming people who could only be her parents and brother. Their love and pride for her shone in every wide smile. “Lacey, can I ask you something?”

  She looked at him, eyes wary. “Of course.”

  “I get why you love Marietta so much. I get it’s the community you always wanted. And yes, as small towns go…”

  Her lush mouth curved into a smile. “Yes? As small towns go?”

  “It’s an okay place to spend a few weeks,” he conceded. “Maybe longer for many folk. But, Lacey, you have a community; you have a great family who love you, who are always there if you need them. There will always be a place for you at Three Pines, a room just for you, with your name on the door.”

  “My grandma embroidered that nameplate when I was born. I can’t take it off the door; it would break her heart.”

  “Hey.” He held his hands up. “I like unicorns, no judging here. But that’s what I mean, you belong there, you always will no matter where you go or what you do, no matter which cousin takes over eventually. You could turn up in fifty years and they would take you in and give you a home. That’s pretty special. Pretty unique.”

  “I guess.”

  “I just wonder why that doesn’t make you want to spread your wings a bit. You have so much to offer. Running Radio KMCM can’t challenge you, not really. And where can you go from here? The breakfast show and drive time?”

  “You think I have to travel to be challenged? Live in a big city, commute, practice hot yoga, eat tuna sashimi, and drink skinny soy flat whites to be a success?”

  Zac grinned at the scorn in her voice. “Steady on, you have just described my last three ex-girlfriends, and no. I’m not saying you need to be a millennial Sex and the City clone at all. What I am saying is that there are many bigger radio stations where you would have more reach, be more challenged, would get more opportunities. Are you really content to spend your life doing drive time in Marietta? In twenty years are you going to look back and wish you’d tried something else, something more? Moved outside your comfort zone a little?”

  Lacey took a sip of the hot chocolate, closing her eyes briefly as she did so. “That’s amazing, thank you, Zac.” She took another and then set the cup on top of the piano. “Why does it matter what I do? You said it yourself. You’ll be gone in a month, we probably won’t ever see each other again. Why do you care how I’ll feel when I’m forty?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I do.” Something cracked in his chest at the words. It had been so long since he’d cared about anything or anyone. “If I thought you were really happy…”

  “How would you know whether I’m happy or not? We don’t know each other at all.”

  “Is that really what you think?”

  She held his gaze for a long moment and then her eyes dropped. “No. I suppose not.”

  “Hey. You’re the one who said you’d settled for content, remember? I’m just wondering why. If I had a family like yours, with the freedom and support to reach for happiness, I don’t think I’d settle at all…”

  Lacey rolled her shoulders, pulling her hair out of its elastic as she did so. It fell in soft waves around her face, spilling over her shoulders like a glorious cloak. Zac’s hands curled into fists, the urge to reach out and touch was almost too much for him. She sighed, reaching for the hot chocolate and inhaling before she spoke again.

  “There’re a few family characteristics. Most, although not all, Hathaways bake, you know that. It’s said we only fall in love once and when we do it’s for life, like swans. None of my generation have met anyone yet so I don’t know how true that is but it certainly seems to be that way for my dad, my grandparents, my uncles and aunts. And some of us are wanderers. Dad, Aunt Patty, Fliss, Nat. They all have itchy feet and with it the gift of being instantly at home anywhere and with anyone. You should see Nat. He can walk into a bar in a strange town and by the end of the night he’s met several kindred spirits and made lifelong friends. But the rest of us are homebodies, a little more reticent. I’m a homebody. It was never that easy for me.”

  She took a sip and stared across the room. “It wasn’t as hard when I was in elementary school. Kids of that age tend to be curious and welcoming. I’d usually find myself the center of attention, guest of honor at parties, invited on sleepovers. I was always desolate when we moved on and I had to say goodbye, unkept promises of friends for life every time, but I soon settled again. But once I reached junior high it all changed. People have their tribes at that age; they don’t want to include a newcomer, not straight away, and we were never anywhere long enough for me to find my niche.

  “I got used to being alone but I never liked it. I begged my parents to let me live at Three Pines or send me to boarding school but they couldn’t understand why I didn’t enjoy traveling like Nat did. When I came to live with the aunts everything changed. I had a place. I belonged to Crooked Corner. And if I’d lost the knack of easily making friends, if I never did quite work out where I belonged, it was okay because I was at school for two whole years. I could be in the play, work on the school radio, join student council, organize yearbook.”

  “You became a doer.”

  “I guess so. Always surrounded by people, always needed. It meant I never felt lonely. I always had a place even if I didn’t have a tribe of my own. I still do. When I’m on the radio I have hundreds of friends, thousands. I’m part of something.”

  “And that’s enough?”

  “I’m safe here, Zac. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe.”

  “No. I suppose not. Not unless it stops you being the best you can
be, stops you achieving all you can.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  He smiled then, ruefully. “Only you know that, Lacey. But I do know one thing: you shouldn’t settle for content. Go for happiness, wherever it is, however much it scares you.”

  “Says the man with no ties, the man who spends his life apart from everyone.”

  “I never said I was happy. I don’t know how to be. But you could be. You should be.”

  “Happiness,” she said, cradling her hot chocolate, “comes in many guises. Many of them in chocolate form. Don’t worry about me, Zac. I’m fine. It’s all under control.” She stood up gracefully. “If I were you I’d spend more time worrying about my own happiness. At least I’ve managed content. Can you say that?” She took a couple of steps then paused, turned, and dropped a light kiss on his head.

  Zac sat, the imprint of her lips burning its way right down to his toes, her words burning their way into his brain. He had money, success, the security he had always dreamed of, the security he had fought for. But did he have contentment? He wasn’t even close. And for the first time in a really long time he was realizing what a huge hole that had left in his life. He had no idea how to fill it in or if he dared to try and work it out. He’d accused Lacey of being too scared to love but the truth was he was far, far more of a coward.

  *

  Lacey had always been the kind of person to enjoy an uninterrupted night’s sleep, one welcome bequest from her childhood. She’d spent so many years in hotel rooms, friends’ houses, rental houses, sleeping backstage, on airplanes, in cars, that she generally just closed her eyes and she was out for a full eight hours.

  Although she wouldn’t exactly call herself a morning person once she had woken up Lacey was usually quick to get going. She loved her work so much that weekdays and weekends were all the same to her. But after a night tossing, turning, and fighting Patchwork for the blankets and quilts she woke up bleary-eyed and, for once, thoroughly Monday morningish. It took longer than usual to tame her hair and dress and by the time she stomped into the kitchen looking for coffee she was running late and had decided that the sooner Zac Malone finished his work and left Marietta for good the better.

 

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