The Truth in Tiramisu (A Poppy Creek Novel Book 2)

by Rachael Bloome

  When he broke through the surface, he looked directly at Penny, a blaze of awareness in his searing blue eyes.

  Eliza wasn’t sure if the glint was respect or admiration. Or perhaps a hint of something more….

  The guys held up their hands for a high five, which Penny gladly doled out.

  Colt hopped out of the tank, his sopping wet T-shirt clinging to his not-so-subtly-defined abs.

  Eliza suppressed a laugh as she caught Penny steal a peek.

  “Nice job, Pen.” Grant appeared by Penny’s side, offering her a congratulatory fist bump. “I hate to say it, but I kind of hoped you’d miss. I’m next in line to throw.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Colt teased as he dried himself off. “Who’s next in the tank?”

  In her peripheral view, Eliza saw Luke grip the ladder, and before she could stop herself, her hand shot up. “I am!”

  All eyes turned on her, including Bill Tucker, who manned the tank. He shifted his glance to Luke, his brow furrowed.

  Eliza’s eyes pleaded with Luke to let her go first, and he graciously stepped aside. “Yep, Eliza is next. I must have got the order mixed up.”

  She flashed him an appreciative smile, her knees wobbly as she moved toward the ladder. What had come over her? She’d never signed up for the dunk tank before. But in a moment of madness, it seemed like a good idea.

  Gathering her resolve, she unbuckled her wedge sandals, kicked them into the grass, and mounted the ladder in her pink sundress.

  “Are you sure about this?” Luke whispered as he helped her up.

  “Not even a little bit.” She grinned, her teeth chattering in anticipation of her impending ice bath.

  As she seated herself on the ledge, she glanced at the water below, observing the ripples from Colt’s recent plunge.

  When she looked up, her eyes locked on Grant’s. He gripped the ball in both hands, appearing decidedly uncomfortable with the prospect of sending her for a swim. Truthfully, she wasn’t looking forward to it any more than he was.

  But it needed to be done.

  A small, albeit strange, step toward making amends.

  As Grant stood at the throwing line, he racked his brain for an excuse to pass the ball off to someone else. A hand cramp, maybe?

  A bee buzzed in front of his face, and he seriously contemplated provoking it.

  “Come on, Parker. We don’t have all day,” Jack ribbed with a good-natured drawl.

  Swallowing hard, Grant directed his gaze at Eliza.

  She’d tucked her dress around her legs, clutching the fabric to her thighs in anticipation of her impending swim. Apprehension creased her forehead, but her expression remained resolute.

  Grant guessed she hadn’t actually been in line for the dunk tank. And only jumped ahead of Luke at the last minute. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but he had a sneaking suspicion.

  His gaze drifted to the bright red target. Somehow, he’d have to miss without making it appear intentional. Which shouldn’t be too hard, considering his athletic abilities were practically nonexistent.

  Winding back his arm, he focused on a few inches to the right of the target.

  Nice and easy….

  As the ball flew from his fingertips, Grant’s heart stopped.

  It took eons for the small round sphere to span the short distance.

  Then a single shriek preceded a loud splash.

  As Grant spotted Eliza duck behind the pie tent, he surreptitiously followed.

  Rounding the corner, he caught sight of her shivering as she dried herself off with a striped beach towel. Beads of water poured off her sopping-wet sundress, and her blond hair hung in damp, bedraggled strands.

  But she looked beautiful nonetheless.

  And for a moment, all he could do was take her in.

  Grant still couldn’t believe she’d climbed up there and perched on the ledge like a peace offering.

  He also couldn’t believe he’d accidentally hit the target. Turns out, he’d been doing it wrong all these years. And the key to hitting your mark was aiming away from it. Go figure.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Eliza jumped, relaxing when she realized who’d startled her. “What do you mean?”

  “You volunteered as some sort of restitution.”

  “I did no—” Her protest died on her lips, as she seemed to think better of telling another lie.

  Even if only a white one.

  Grant took a step closer, noticing the goose bumps scattered across her arms. “It was sweet, but not necessary. I’m not mad at you. I’m…” He paused. What was he? Confused? Hurt? His feelings melded together, a jumbled mess he wasn’t yet able to untangle.

  A strand of wet hair clung to her forehead, grazing just above her right eye. Grant moved toward her, instinctively brushing it aside, sweeping it behind her ear.

  Eliza’s breath faltered, and her eyes flew to his, water droplets still clinging to her long dark lashes.

  What was he doing? He needed to walk away and put a safe distance between them. But he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move.

  His mind wandered back to the night she’d called things off between them. No explanation. No conversation. Simply a tearful, It will never work, followed by a cataclysmal kiss goodbye.

  Her lips had tasted bittersweet, like forbidden fruit dipped in pink Himalayan salt. And the all-consuming craving lingered long after she’d walked away.

  Grant closed his eyes, longing to remember.

  At first, he thought he was dreaming as the feather-soft kiss grazed his lips. But as it deepened, awareness ripped through him.

  Grant’s hand instinctively found Eliza’s waist, pulling her against his body. She fit so perfectly, as though they were never meant to be apart. The moisture from her damp dress seeped through his clothing, but he didn’t care. He barely even noticed as he concentrated on the feel of her soft skin, her sweet, intoxicating taste.

  Their kiss grew urgent, almost desperate, as though they both knew this would be their last.

  His lips, fingers, toes… everything tingled. Grant felt at once acutely aware of every imperceptible sensation and yet oblivious to anything beyond the confines of their kiss.

  He sensed himself slipping away, too willing to get lost in the moment, regardless of the consequences.

  But he needed to think. This was too much. Too fast.

  He couldn’t sort out one emotion from the next.

  Pulling away, Grant pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her honey-scented shampoo. “I’m sorry. I… need some time.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, dropping her hands to her side.

  As soon as she did, Grant missed her touch.

  But getting some space in order to think more clearly would be a good thing.

  Healthy. Responsible. Rational.

  And maybe if he repeated the words often enough, he’d actually believe them.

  Chapter 28

  The crunch of Ben’s suitcase across the gravel drive pounded in Eliza’s ears like ominous thunder. Yet there wasn’t a single cloud in the brilliant blue sky. The bright, cheery sun and twittering sparrows were oblivious to the unfortunate event unfolding before them.

  Eliza glowered, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the offending sunlight.

  This couldn’t be happening so soon; she needed more time to prepare.

  After their kiss, brief as it was, Eliza had dared to hope Grant had forgiven her. Perhaps even been willing to give her another chance.

  But here they were….

  Worlds apart, though only on opposite ends of the driveway.

  Grant leaned against the side of his car, his hands stuffed inside his pockets, shoulders slumped. When he heard them approach, he straightened, yanking his hands free, raking them through his hair instead.

  As they drew closer, it became harder for Eliza to lift her feet. Halfway down the drive, they stopped working all together. Falling to her knees, she gat
hered Ben into her arms, burying her face in his soft, unruly hair.

  “Mom?” he murmured, small and uncertain.

  Drawing strength from the deepest part of herself, Eliza pulled back, offering a reassuring smile. “What is it, Bug?”

  “Can you come with me?”

  “Oh, honey. I can’t. Not this time.” She swallowed the shakiness in her voice, keeping the smile firmly in place. “But you two will have a lot of fun together, I promise.”

  Ben shot a sideways glance at Grant, appearing unconvinced. “When will you come get me?”

  “Grant—your dad,” Eliza corrected, still stumbling over the word, “is bringing you back for Luke and Cassie’s wedding. You have a very important job, remember?”

  A brief glimmer of pride illuminated Ben’s eyes. “I’m in charge of the rings.”

  “Exactly. Which means they can’t get married without you.”

  His gaze flickering to Grant again, Ben asked, “Do you think I’ll like it there?”

  “You’re going to love it.” She swept aside his feathery bangs, wishing her heartache could be as easily tamed. “You’ll see all sorts of new and fun things. Like the ocean. You’ve always wanted to see the ocean, right?”

  Ben nodded, gradually warming up to the idea, though they’d been over it all before.

  “See, it’ll be great.” Eliza surprised herself with how cheerful she sounded.

  Wrapping her arms around him one last time, she inhaled his little boy scent as she held him against her heart. After planting a kiss on his forehead, she stood, nudging him forward. “Have fun.” Good grief. How many times would she say that word? It wasn’t as if it had magical powers, and the more frequently she said it, the less her heart would break.

  “And call me anytime, for any reason. Even if it’s simply to say hi or hear my voice,” she added, feeling a sob rise in her raw, swollen throat.

  Chewing her pinky nail, she watched Ben continue down the driveway on his own, wheeling his small suitcase with Claude secured on top. The plush, floppy-eared head bobbed back and forth each time the wheels hit a rough patch of gravel, as if the dragon were nodding his farewell.

  When Ben reached the car, Grant placed a hand on his shoulder, directing him toward the back seat.

  Instinctively, Eliza cupped both hands over her mouth, uncertain how much longer she could suppress the swelling sob.

  Ben glanced over his shoulder, and the second their eyes locked, he dropped his suitcase and bolted down the driveway.

  Tears spilling down her cheeks, Eliza scooped him into her arms, cradling him against her, though he’d long since outgrown being held.

  “I don’t want to go,” he cried into her hair. “I want to stay with you.”

  Cooing softly, Eliza caressed his back, swaying back and forth. “Shh… it’ll be okay.”

  “He can stay.” Now standing only a few feet away, Grant met her gaze. His eyes glistened, and he was unable to hide the raspy pain in his voice.

  Grant set Ben’s suitcase beside her, a selfless act that wasn’t lost on Eliza.

  As she studied Grant’s face, each subtle crease in his brow speaking volumes, his internal conflict was clear. They both wanted to do what was best for their son.

  Their son…

  Whether united or apart, they were in this together now.

  Gently setting Ben down, Eliza knelt and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Bug, I know this seems scary because it’s new and different. But you and your dad will have a great time. I promise. I wouldn’t let you go if I didn’t believe that with all my heart. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah,” he sniffled.

  “Okay, then.” Straightening, Eliza offered Ben her hand. “Ready?”

  He nodded, then glanced up at Grant.

  Reaching out his other hand, he slipped his fingers through Grant’s, linking the three of them together.

  Grant met her gaze over the top of Ben’s head, and for a moment, Eliza couldn’t breathe.

  Her eyes pleaded with him not to go, but her feet started moving forward.

  Side by side, they walked toward the car.

  Her heart wrenching a little more with each step they took.

  As they pulled out of the driveway, Grant stared straight ahead.

  Don’t do it… Don’t look back….

  Unable to stop himself, Grant glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Eliza’s figure slowly grew smaller as they drove away. As he watched her disappear before his eyes, the tightness in Grant’s chest rose to his throat. He tried to swallow, tilting his head back as unwanted tears threatened to spill out.

  He couldn’t cry. He had to keep it together. For Ben.

  Grant stole another glance in the mirror, this time at his son in the back seat.

  Ben fidgeted with the air vent.

  “Are you hot? Cold?” Grant poised his finger over the climate control, ready to make any adjustment Ben wanted. Heck, he’d buy him the moon, if he wanted it. Anything to make the transition smoother.

  “These don’t work in our car,” Ben told him. “Only the ones by our feet. I like them. The air kind of tickles.”

  “I can turn it up higher, if you want.” Grant touched the keypad and the screen illuminated.

  Ben’s eyes widened. “You have a computer in your car?”

  Grant grinned. It had never occurred to him that Ben wasn’t exposed to many late model cars, let alone one as tech-advanced as his Tesla. It was endearing how excited Ben got about features Grant barely noticed anymore. “Cool, huh? This is a pretty smart car. It can even drive itself.”

  “You mean like a robot?”

  “Yeah, kind of like a robot. When we get out of the windy mountain roads, I’ll show you how it works.”

  “Your car smells different, too,” Ben pointed out, sniffing the air. “Ours smells like vanilla. Mom dropped some under the seat and can’t get it out. The bean. Not the other stuff. Vanilla bean looks funny. Like a stick. Or a dead caterpillar. Mom says not to tell people that because then they won’t eat her cupcakes and stuff. But I think people would still eat them, even if I said vanilla bean looks like a dead caterpillar. Do you think they would?”

  “Uh-huh.” Grant nodded, doing his best to keep up with Ben’s rambling. He’d never talked this much before. Maybe he was nervous? Grant could certainly understand that.

  He lifted his clammy palm from the steering wheel, shaking off the moisture before returning his grip. He’d already thought of a million different ways he could screw up, from ordering the wrong pizza toppings to failing to safety proof the house properly. Most of the information he’d read online pertained to infants or toddlers. But he’d ordered locks for the medicine cabinet and cleaning supplies, just in case.

  “Wanna order pizza and watch a movie tonight?” Grant asked, then flinched realizing his mistake. How would he know what a seven-year-old could watch? Maybe he should call Eliza….

  Grant drew in a breath, ready to activate his car’s Bluetooth, then firmly clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t call her fifteen minutes after they’d left.

  It was time to man up.

  For the rest of the summer, he’d be on his own.

  A thought that left his heart numb, for more reasons than one.

  The vacant black screen refused to illuminate no matter how hard Eliza stared at her cell phone.

  “Hello?” She tapped the hard plastic cover to no avail, whimpering as she buried herself deeper into Ben’s Spider-Man sheets.

  Was it weird she’d crawled into his bed waiting for his good night phone call? Maybe. But she didn’t care. She wanted to breathe in his scent and be surrounded by things that reminded her of his adorable smiling face.

  Plus, it was forty-five minutes past Ben’s standard bedtime and she could barely keep it together. Either Grant allowed him to stay up late or Ben hadn’t wanted to call to say good night.

  Eliza prayed it wasn’t the latter.

  All day long she�
��d been preparing herself for their first night apart. And for two whole seconds, she’d thought she could handle it. Ha! What a joke.

  Nestling into the pillows, Eliza fixed her gaze on the ceiling, distracting herself with the strange shadows cast by his night-light.

  How would she survive an entire summer without him? It didn’t seem possible.

  Her mother had actually told her to try to enjoy it. Take some time for yourself, she’d said. Get a hobby, she’d said.

  Eliza covered her face with the pillow, muffling an exasperated scream.

  Maybe she should call? Maybe something was wrong….

  Jolting upright in bed, Eliza snatched the phone off the nightstand, her heart hammering inside her throat.

  Her fingertip hovered over the screen while she chewed her bottom lip raw. Was she being paranoid? Too needy? Too mothery? Was that even a word?

  The trill of her cell phone reverberated around the room, and in her surprise, Eliza chucked it into the air. Scrambling to catch it, she tumbled from the bed in a tangle of cotton sheets.

  “Hello? Ben? Hello?” Breathless, she squashed the phone against her ear, not waiting for a response. “Are you there?”

  “Eliza? It’s Grant. Are you okay?”

  Wincing, she glanced at her scraped elbow. She must have banged it against the nightstand in her haste to answer the phone. “Yes, I’m fine. Is Ben there? It’s an hour past his bedtime.” She winced again. This time, due to her reproachful tone.

  “Sorry. We started the movie later than I thought.”

  Eliza sighed, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I… it’s…”

  “It’s hard being apart?” Grant asked softly.

  For a moment, Eliza wasn’t sure if he meant from Ben… or him.

  “Harder than I thought,” she admitted, although that wasn’t entirely true. She’d anticipated it would be like ripping her heart from her chest cavity with her bare hands. And she’d been pretty spot-on.

  “So,” she said quickly, banishing the emotion from her voice with a cough. “How’s it going?”