by Cindy Kirk
Charlotte had to avoid any man the least bit like Zoe’s charming, attractive, flirty father. It was too risky, too complicated. Too dangerous.
She dropped her grater and grabbed a reject cookie for herself. “Cupid needs to quit fooling around and bring me suspenders and a bow tie.”
“What does that mean?”
“Suspenders and a bow tie. You know, a nice, predictable, stable nerd.”
Julie stopped chewing and stared at Charlotte as if she’d completely lost her mind.
“Doesn’t matter,” Charlotte said. She tossed the remainder of the cookie into the trash can. “Doesn’t matter at all.”
It wasn’t quite 5:40 yet.
Will hesitated outside the front door of The Dough Knot, lingering just out of sight of the picture window that boasted the bakery’s name in gold script. A little girl sat at a table inside, head down as she scribbled on top of a—was that a toy cupcake?—with a pink marker. Other than that, the bakery appeared empty. Charlotte must have been in the kitchen, or on the other side of the counter that he couldn’t quite see from this angle.
He paced back and forth on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, braced against a sudden gust of September wind. The temperature was starting to change, some days dipping lower and hinting at the coming autumn, other days burning hot and clinging tight to summer. Like the world couldn’t make up its mind if it was going to transition or not.
He knew the feeling.
If he went inside The Dough Knot and told Charlotte everything that his heart wanted to say, he’d be free falling through transition himself.
But if he didn’t . . . well, how could he keep this up? He’d have to buy cookies for Melissa elsewhere, and that was the least of his problems. He saw Charlotte’s face every night before he closed his eyes and woke with her the first thing on his mind.
Yesterday at the gym, he was trying to teach old Mr. Conrad how to lift weights without throwing his back out. Adam had been there, following him around and bending his ear about Charlotte.
“Go for it, man,” Adam said. “You know we’ve been trying to set you up with someone for months now. Don’t you want the bliss me and Brittany have?” He winked.
Conrad, a feisty old geezer who had to be ninety if he was a day, seemed to have an opinion on everything—including Will’s love life. “Sounds like this girl’s a keeper,” he huffed between bicep curls. “You better make your move or somebody else will.” He grinned, showing a mouthful of perfectly white, straight dentures. “Or if you don’t, give me her number."
“He’s right,” Adam said as he spotted Will on the weight bench. “How come you’re dragging your feet? You could do a lot worse than Charlotte, dude.”
No kidding. Charlotte easily beat every one of those superficial women who had been at the party the other night, without even trying. Maybe that was why she beat them. She didn’t try. She didn’t have to. She was real. Had substance. Was sweet—and beautiful, without having to flaunt it. She was just . . . Charlotte.
And that was more than enough.
But it wasn’t about simply not being single anymore. If that was the case, he’d be content being Free Willy for life. His priorities shifted the day that SUV crashed into Melissa’s car, and it wasn’t his decision to shift them away from her now. Over and over again he tried to explain that to Adam, who didn’t get it. After denying Mr. Conrad Charlotte’s digits and after a pointless argument with Adam, his friend had finally resorted to assuring Will that in a few weeks, all of their wedding stuff would be over and Will’s life could go back to normal.
But normal meant only seeing Charlotte every Tuesday at 5:40, and he was pretty certain that wasn’t going to be good enough anymore.
He checked his watch: 5:32.
Maybe it was time for a few changes after all.
He opened the door to The Dough Knot.
The little girl looked up, pink marker in hand, and smiled—Charlotte’s smile. Was it? Yes. It had to be. She had the same dimple in her cheek too. But how—
“Welcome to The Dough Knot.” She said it so properly, he couldn’t help but grin. She clearly had a lot of practice.
“Thank you.” He couldn’t stop staring at her. Charlotte had a daughter? He didn’t see that coming.
“Want a bite?” She held out the cupcake she’d been working on so diligently.
He hesitated, then took a step forward and accepted the offering. “It looks delicious.”
She capped her marker with a flourish. “It is.”
Confident little thing. Good for Charlotte. He pretended to take a bite of the icing and made a show of mumbling his appreciation. “Best cupcake in the store.”
The little girl’s shoulders straightened and she twisted her braid around one finger. “One day it will be. When the shop is mine, of course.”
She couldn’t be more than what . . . five years old? Six, tops? And she was already planning on taking over the world. He grinned wider. “When it’s yours, will you give me a discount on cupcakes?”
She rolled in her bottom lip, thinking hard. Then she nodded solemnly. “But only if you buy two. Then you can get a third one free.”
He leaned his head back and laughed.
Charlotte appeared through the door behind the counter leading from the kitchen. “Can I help—oh.” She looked at her watch, which made him look at his.
5:40.
They locked eyes. Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms over her flour-streaked apron. “The usual?”
“Yes.” But that wasn’t all. Not today. He strode toward the counter. “Your daughter is just like you.”
A flicker of pride danced through her eyes before the wall went back up. “It’s just me and Zoe, so she doesn’t have many other influences, I guess.”
“I didn’t realize you were a single mom.”
She grabbed a bakery box and began loading in the snickerdoodles. “Well, less than two weeks ago, you didn’t know my name, either.”
Somehow, she was right. How they’d managed to connect so quickly before ever even introducing themselves was beyond him. But that didn’t matter anymore. “You’ve done a great job.”
She glanced at Zoe, then at him, before concentrating back on the cookie order. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Will that be all?”
Forget this distant, professional thing. He leaned across the counter, crowding her space a little in order to speak privately. “There’s something else I need.”
Her breath hitched, and her neck flushed. “Oh, right. You never picked a cake flavor for the wedding. I really need to get that on the books.”
Cake flavor—oh, for crying out loud. He wracked his brain for a flavor, any flavor besides vanilla, which would just make it obvious he didn’t care anymore. Brittany and Adam were just going to smash the stuff in each other’s faces and drive away married, anyway. Wasn’t that all that mattered? “The chocolate one.”
“Plain chocolate or the white chocolate?” She pulled a notebook from near the register and clicked a pen.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
She shot him a glare. “Will.”
“Either is fine.”
She huffed. “Did you even think about this decision?”
No, but he’d thought plenty about a different one. “Go out with me.”
Charlotte’s face drained of color.
That hadn’t come out as planned. He’d intended to be more intentional, more romantic. More like those characters in those Austen books she was always talking about. He cleared his throat. “Please?”
“Mom! Say yes!”
Oh, man. He’d forgotten they had an audience.
“He’s super handsome. And he liked my cupcakes.” Zoe grinned, her arms draped over the back of her chair.
“Zoe.” Charlotte closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. “I think Julie needs you in the kitchen.”
“Really? She never needs help.” Zoe slowly climbed do
wn from her chair, her expression a mixture of confusion and happiness. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She ushered Zoe around the counter and through the swinging door. “Wash your hands first. Julie! Um, let Zoe help, okay?”
“Help me with wha—” Julie caught the swinging kitchen door, took one look at Will, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh. Right. With that.” She grabbed Zoe’s hand and tugged. “Come on, kiddo. Want to lick the spoons?”
The door swung shut against Zoe’s exuberant agreement.
Will rested his elbows on the counter between them, hoping she wouldn’t hear even at this distance how fast his heart was beating. “Seems I have one vote in my favor.” And a foot in his mouth, but maybe she wouldn’t notice that either.
“I can’t believe you.” Charlotte’s tone now possessed a steady sternness that threatened to rock Will back a step. Two-thirds Mama bear and one-third elementary school principal.
He blew out a short breath. “Look, I’m really sorry I asked in front of Zoe.” He lifted both hands in defense. “I wasn’t thinking. I know you probably have rules about that.”
Charlotte let out a strangled laugh. “Rules about—are you kidding me?” She reached up and briefly pinched the bridge of her nose as if gathering her composure. “Let me ask you a question. What would Melissa say about this?” She gestured between them.
He hesitated. That was the question of the hour in his own heart, but if Melissa meant what she’d been preaching at him for weeks now . . .
He calculated his answer carefully. “I think Melissa would be proud of me.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Proud of you? Of all the nerve . . .”
“You’re right. It took nerve to ask you out.” So much so, that in fact, he was starting to wonder why he had. The longer this went on, the more his pride was curling into the fetal position. “You know, a simple no would have sufficed.”
“There’s nothing simple about a practically engaged man asking me out on a date. Again!” Her face flamed so hot he could have baked a cookie on her cheekbones. With anger? Or embarrassment? He could relate to both at the moment himself.
Then her words registered. Again—what again? He’d never asked her out before this moment. Never even hinted at it. “What do you mean, practically engaged?” He hadn’t dated anyone in years, much less proposed.
“I’m not stupid, Will.”
“What are you talking about, Charlotte?”
She pointed to her bare ring finger, as if playing charades would help him comprehend. “You. And Melissa.”
She shook her head, palms landing with a slap against the countertop. “You know, I fell for this kind of thing years ago, but I won’t do it again.” Her cheeks grew redder and her voice louder the longer she ranted. “Melissa deserves a lot better than this. I don’t even know her, but no woman deserves to be tricked and manipulated and treated like—”
“Melissa is my sister.”
She stopped midlecture. Arms braced against the counter. Cheeks glowing with indignation. Mouth open. She swallowed. “Sister?”
“Yes. Sister. What did you think—” Oh. Oh. He snorted. “You thought . . .”
She dropped her head to rest on her elbows, hiding her face. “I can’t believe I assumed she was your girlfriend.”
He tried to remember all of his references to Melissa during his interactions with Charlotte. He couldn’t grasp details to give merit to the confusion, but clearly he’d never specified who his sister was.
But that still left one question. “Now that you know I’m not a total sleazebag and hitting on you while I have a girlfriend . . . will you let me take you to dinner?”
Charlotte snorted back a laugh, her head still buried. “I can’t even look at you right now. I’m going to burst into flames I’m so embarrassed.”
He wanted to see that. He gently prodded her bent arm. “Waiting on an answer here.” Third time was the charm. “Charlotte? Will you go on a date with me?”
Zoe suddenly barreled back through the kitchen door. “Mom! Say yes. Please!”
Julie popped her head around the frame. “We really need better soundproofing back here.”
Charlotte lifted her head, cheeks red, eyes closed. Hope built in Will’s chest. She was caving. Slowly.
“Mom, if you say yes, I won’t eat sweets for an entire day.” Zoe’s wide-eyed, solemn promise couldn’t have been more perfect if Will had planned it. He held his breath.
Charlotte looked at her daughter, then at Will. Then at Julie, who gave a thumbs-up, then back at Will, and released a sigh. “Make it two days.”
“Two?” Indignation filled the little girl’s voice.
Will raised his eyebrows at her. Mouthed the word please. She frowned, twisted her braid, and then nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal, Mommy.”
Charlotte met Will’s eyes and offered a timid smile. “It’s a deal.”
“I can’t believe you thought I was dating my sister.”
“Will!” Charlotte kicked him under the table, stifling a laugh. Talk about poor timing for their waiter. He delivered a fresh basket of chips and fled the scene.
When he was gone, she leaned forward across the white tablecloth and lowered her voice. At this point in the evening, they’d probably annoyed their table-neighbors enough with all their laughter. “I didn’t think you were dating your sister. I didn’t know she was your sister. Big difference there.”
Once again, those hazel eyes kept drawing her in. All of her doubts and fears about this date had dissipated halfway into their appetizer of queso and tortilla chips.
Earlier Zoe had caught her double-checking her reflection in the mirror. “Don’t worry, Mommy,” she said. “You look like a princess.”
Now she was beginning to feel like one.
And it was about time she’d found someone remotely prince-like.
Will leaned back in his chair, one arm slung along the back. “Eh, details.” He winked.
She shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
He snagged a chip from the basket and popped it in his mouth. “I was once. Not anymore.”
“Because of the military?”
He shrugged. “Partly. You get used to being corrected pretty quickly in basic training.” He picked up another chip, but didn’t eat it. Just turned it end over end in his hand, as if he’d gotten lost in thought. Or in the past.
She could relate to that. She sensed he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t? Maybe it was her turn. After all, he’d taken the first step in asking her out. Now that Melissa wasn’t an issue between them—obviously—Charlotte had no reason not to see what could develop.
That didn’t make her feel any less terrified, but at least it offered possibilities.
“Do you regret leaving the military?” The words slipped out before she could fully weigh them. If that was the reason for his hesitations in their conversation, then her bringing it up could backfire. She held her breath.
“No, I’m happy in the reserves.” The chip turned faster in his hands. “There were some family issues that needed to be taken care of a few years ago, and well—I didn’t have much choice.”
Family issues. She was a single mom. Say no more.
“I’m still trying to figure out what to do next. I don’t want to be a trainer all my life, though the time in the gym has been productive.”
She definitely concurred with that, but didn’t have the nerve to say so. “Okay, so no full-time military, and no permanent training plans in the cards for you. What else do you like to do?”
He studied the chip in his hand as if it held the secret to some long-buried question. “I used to cook a lot, actually.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you thinking about giving me competition?”
He shot her a glance. “Cook. Not bake.”
“Lucky for you.”
He grinned at her tease. “Maybe it’s lucky for you.”
She was already fee
ling pretty lucky just sitting here across from him. And now she really wanted him to cook for her sometime.
Will finally dropped the chip, giving her his full attention once more and making her stomach cartwheel with the intensity of it. “So, what about you? Any regrets?”
Speaking of single motherhood. She bit her lower lip, wishing she had a chip to spin now. She didn’t want to lie—and he’d already met Zoe. But still . . .
“That word—regret—it seems so harsh.” She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t regret Zoe. Not for one single second. I just sometimes regret the way all of that came about.”
He nodded. “Bad breakup?”
“Ha. That’s an understatement. More like shocking.” She hesitated. “When I told him I was pregnant, he didn’t want to be part of Zoe’s life. At all.” The words poured out, faster and faster, as if some inner dam had burst. She hadn’t vented this story in a long time. “Apparently it cramped his fiancée’s style. I haven’t seen him since he wrote me a pretty pathetic check and told me to hit the road.”
“That’s unbelievable. Zoe is . . . just . . . she’s . . .” Will hesitated, as if searching for the right words.
She waited, fully understanding his dilemma—Zoe blew her mind daily with her sweetness, her charm, her talents. She was so blessed.
“She’s just so awesome.”
Exactly. She was awesome. “Thank you.” It was completely her dad’s loss. Zoe deserved more than a donor—she deserved a full-time father figure to dote on her.
All the more reason for Charlotte to choose carefully.
She picked a chip out of the basket and began breaking it into several pieces on her plate. “I never bothered trying to sue. Couldn’t afford a lawyer at the time, and decided I’d rather make my own way than drag him unwanted into Zoe’s life.”
And God had provided for her—for them—one step at a time the entire way. She still didn’t deserve such grace.
“Wait a minute.” Will frowned, scooting his water glass out of the way so he could lean forward. He braced his arms against the table and lowered his voice. “Did you say fiancée a minute ago?”