He just wanted to take her to bed. She drew him like a dog to deer shit, unhealthy to indulge in, distasteful to his mind, yet irresistible no matter how many times he told himself to step back. He frowned at the analogy. It wasn’t a very pleasant one, but pretty damn accurate, and just like the dog that didn’t know any better than to leave it alone, he’d just gone and rolled in it.
Touched her…a simple brush over her skin…brief, mindless, but it had scorched him. He knew now the feel of her skin, warm in the sun, soft under the pad of his thumb, a sampling too small to satisfy, and it would tempt him, of that he had no doubt, because he already wanted more.
His cell phone rang and he took the call, a prospective client looking for a waterfront property close to St. Michaels with enough depth to accommodate the six-and-a-half foot draft on his sailboat. He gathered a bit of information from the man before ending the call and then checked the Multiple Listings to see if anything new had come on the market.
Around one thirty he left the office to meet some clients in the next town over to show them two listings he thought they might be interested in. When he got back a couple of hours later, Krista asked if he’d mind if she stepped out for a few minutes.
“I won’t be long. I just want to give Charlie my address and phone number. She’s the woman I was talking to from next door on our way back from the closing this morning.”
“I know who she is, the Morrisons’ cousin. You two acted like you know each other pretty well.”
Krista tore a piece of notepaper she’d written some information on from the tablet on her desk and stood up. “Only BFFs since first grade.”
“BFFs?”
“Best friends forever, Cooper.” She shook her head as if he should have known.
Why would he know that? Men called each other their buddies, their buds, their boys; they didn’t call them their BFFs. It sounded like a typically girlie term to him. He could just picture walking into Bailey’s bar and telling the bartender to pour a round for him and his BFFs. They’d probably all be ROFL at him, another acronym he was positive had been termed by a woman. Why not just say laughed my ass off, and none of that LMAO crap, or use some other whole words with a little meat to them?
“I’m so excited she moved back to Glebe Point. I haven’t seen her in, oh, at least five years. We used to write back and forth every couple of months for a while, but then I stopped hearing from her about three years ago.” Krista wrinkled her brow and frowned. “I guess she just got too busy and time got away from us. That happens. The last I heard from her she was working for some really nice, but indecently rich guy she met when she was doing some volunteer work at an animal shelter and waiting tables. That was right after she finished school. He offered her a job out of the blue, and she took it until she could find something in her field.
He angled his head. “What’s her field?”
“Marine biology. Charlie always said she wanted to do something that would have a positive impact on marine life.”
“And I guess that explains why she’s opening up a cupcake shop.”
Krista looked at him and smirked. “I’m sure she’s got a good reason for that, and why she seemed to drop off the planet for a couple of years as well, both of which I’m sure she’ll tell me when we have lunch tomorrow. Charlie and I never could keep a secret from each other.” She started for the door. “I’ll be back in just a couple.”
Cooper watched her go. She was a good person, a good agent, loved her husband and kids. She was as open as a well-read book, just the opposite of her BFF. Maybe Krista was exactly what Charlie Morrison needed in her life right now, a trusted friend, someone she could talk to, confide in, and laugh with. It would probably be very cathartic for her. He didn’t get the impression his new neighbor had laughed very much or confided in anyone for a long time.
“WHAT’S GOING on?” Charlie asked when she walked out of her front door to go up to the Inn later that evening and ran into Blake who was unloading boxes from his truck and stacking them in front of the cottage.
“I come bearing gifts.” He threw her a grin she knew would make most women’s heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings. At one point or another, almost every one of her girlfriends in high school had imagined themselves in love with one or the other of her cousins.
“Looks to me like you come bearing a lot of boxes that need to be unpacked. What is all this stuff?”
“Supplies. Delaney called her mom a few days ago and asked her to send anything they had left from the catering business that you might be able to use in the store.”
Charlie walked around the boxes—seven by her count—already half blocking her door, and then stared as Blake hefted two more out of the back of the truck.
“How many more do you have in there?”
“Only four more.” He set the two he’d just carried over down on the ground and rolled his shoulders. “This stuff’s all been stored out in their garage for the last couple of years. No one ever got around to getting rid of it. Delaney thinks there might be a lot you can use. She came with me. She and the kids went into the Inn to see Mary, so if you want specifics, you can ask her. We’re staying for dinner.”
“My God! This must have cost a small fortune to ship. I want you to find out how much and let me know so I can pay them back.”
Charlie pulled the packing tape off the top of one of the boxes and looked inside. It held a commercial grade mixer with several mixing bowls and a food processor she knew cost several hundred dollars, and this was just the first box. She dragged a hand over the top of her head, at a loss for words. Tears came unbidden, quick and hot. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to hold them back.
“Hey, sugar.” Blake walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
She nodded, took a gulp of air. “It’s just…everyone’s doing so much…I don’t…I don’t know how to thank you, or how I’ll ever be able to repay everyone.”
He slipped his arm around her back and pulled her up against his side. “Nobody’s looking for payback, Charlie. You’re ours; we’re just doing what we can to help you get started. It’s no different from when we were growing up. We looked out for each other, fought for each other, took care of each other. You know that; and Delaney and Gabriella, they’re part of that circle now. They want to see you succeed just as much as Justin and I do.”
She leaned her head against his chest. “I guess I’ve just been away so long I forgot what it’s like to have…you know…people who really care, people who aren’t looking for something in return.”
His fingers tightened around her arm and she swallowed. She had forgotten. If she’d remembered that sooner, trusted in it, in them, in herself, she might have found the strength to leave Phillip sooner.
She looked up at Blake and rested her chin against his chest. “I got all the painting done today; it looks good.”
“Is that right? I’ll have to stop in next time I’m in town to take a look.”
“Do that. I’m famished though; it was a lot of work.”
“How about we go up to the Inn then and get some dinner. I think Mary made boiled ham and potatoes.”
Charlie grinned at him. “And I think I smelled bread baking when I got home. She’s been spoiling me, you know. I’ve only been back a little over six weeks, and I think I’ve put on about eight pounds. That’s more than a pound a week.”
He chuckled softly. “It looks good on you, kid. You were so skinny when you got here, if you’d cut your hair off, people would have mistaken you for a scruffy little boy.”
She punched him in the arm as they started down the path. “Yeah, and if your face was any prettier, people might think you were a girl.”
“Careful, them’s fightin’ words.”
“Whup your scrawny butt any day you’re up for it,” she threw back, then punched him a little harder and took off running toward the Inn. Blake was right behind her, their laughter carryin
g on the breeze that rustled though the marsh grasses as the sun dipped behind them, orange, melting into gold, melting into pink and gray.
What the hell,” Cooper muttered under his breath when he glanced out the front window of his office building. He hurried outside and jogged a few steps to catch up with Charlie, whom he’d seen struggling to lift two large boxes, each about two by two, out of her car and try to carry them to her shop.
“Give me those,” he said as he took them out of her arms. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I was managing just fine.”
“You couldn’t even see where you were going.”
“I had a general idea.”
He scowled down at her. “Open the door and tell me where you want these.”
She scowled right back, but unlocked the front door and pointed beyond him. “In the back room.”
He carried them into the kitchen and deposited them on the island. When he returned to the main storefront, she wasn’t there, so he went back outside and cursed when he saw her weaving toward him with two more boxes. He rushed forward and took them from her.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re stubborn?”
“No.” She shot him an unconvincing look. “And I’m not, but I need to unload these boxes, and I don’t want to spend an hour doing it.”
“They’re too heavy for you to be carrying two at a time. What’s in here anyway, bricks?”
“Kitchen supplies.”
He glanced toward the open car trunk. “How many more are there?”
“Three in the trunk and four in the backseat.” She turned as if she was going to haul more out.
“If they’re as heavy as these, leave them; I’ll bring them in.”
“You don’t need to do that. I loaded them all into the trunk by myself; I can manage getting them out.”
“Fine, but if you’re going to be stubborn, just take one at a time, and try to find some that aren’t going to give you a hernia.”
“I told you I wasn’t stubborn.” She bent over the trunk to pull another box forward. He watched to make sure she only took one before going into the store.
Cooper solved part of the problem by taking the boxes out and setting them just inside the doorway rather than carrying them all the way back to the kitchen on each trip. He figured that way he’d be able to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t hurt herself trying to carry too much at once.
When all the boxes were relocated to the back room, she dove right into them, pulling off the packing tape and looking inside each one.
“Oh wow, another mixer. That’s great. I can do different batches at the same time.”
He leaned against the door frame and watched her rummage through the contents. “Don’t you know what’s in these?”
She glanced up, the lights above the counter highlighting her eyes. The breath halted in his chest as he stared into them—rich, deep amber, golden temptation, as warm as an August sun—and just as capable of burning him if he didn’t protect himself from their effect.
“No.” She blinked. “My cousin Blake just dropped them off for me last night. His wife used to have a catering business in New York, and they had all this stuff just sitting in her parents’ garage.”
She kept unpacking, lining things up on the island, the countertops, running her hands over this item and that reverently, as if to verify they weren’t just illusions that might disappear.
When the last box had been emptied, she stood in the middle of the kitchen and just stared at everything with an expression that approached awe. If it wasn’t just a bunch of kitchen gadgets, he might think she was having a religious moment.
“Trash and recycling pickup is tomorrow morning. Do you want me to break these boxes down and put them out back so they’re out of the way?”
“You don’t have to do that. You’ve already helped enough carrying them all in from the car.”
“I don’t mind.” He picked up one of the empty boxes and started breaking it down. “I don’t have any appointments this afternoon so I have some time, and it’ll give you a little more to start organizing some of this stuff.”
“There is a lot, and honestly, I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I didn’t know Delaney had so much, or that she intended to have her mom send it all to me.” She looked around at the stacks of mixing bowls, measuring cups, stand mixers and bakeware, spoons, trays, and an assortment of other kitchen items that he had no clue as to what they were or their purpose.
He saw her swallow and wondered at the emotion that had flooded her eyes just before she glanced away. “This is going to save me several thousands of dollars. I can’t believe Delaney had all this…and she won’t let me give her any money. She said she probably would have eventually just donated it.”
She trailed her fingers over the top of a very fancy-looking stand mixer. Cooper picked up another box and continued to watch her as he took it apart. He didn’t know what her financial situation was, or what kind of arrangement she’d worked out with her cousins given she’d be their tenant. But starting a new business always required some investment, and there was never any guarantee it would be successful. He got the feeling not having to put out those few thousand dollars she said she’d save by not having to buy some of this stuff was a huge relief.
She was young, a few years younger than he. Late twenties maybe, no more, and she was trying to do it on her own. Yeah, her cousins were helping her out with fixing up the building, and she’d just gotten this windfall of kitchen equipment, but she’d still be responsible for the business, the daily operations, expenses, and stress that came with being a sole proprietor.
He knew she’d only recently moved back to the area—alone. She wouldn’t be planning to open her own shop if she didn’t intend to stay. In his mind, that meant she was unattached—no dangling boyfriends or commitments someplace else.
It took him about fifteen minutes to finish breaking down all the boxes and stack them up in the alley that ran behind the stores on this side of the street. When he went back inside, Charlie was walking around with a spiral notepad taking inventory of everything she’d unpacked so she could figure out what she would still need to buy.
“Cupcake pans, wrappers, takeout containers—” She spoke under her breath as things came to her and wrote them. “Oh!” She stabbed the air with her pen as if making a point. “And rolling trays, I’ll need at least two rolling trays.” She added them to the list and then looked over at him.
“I’m not going to need to get much in the way of tools. Delaney even had some tiered plate stands that I can use for a window display.”
She lifted one of the large mixers and carried it over to the counter near the door. “I’m not going to leave that there, just getting it out of the way,” she said as she turned, as if she thought she needed to explain why she’d moved it.
She bubbled with excitement and for whatever reason it made him smile. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and cocked his head as he watched her move around the room in a whir of energy. After a minute or two, he realized he was enjoying the sight of her entirely too much than was wise.
“I guess I’ll head back next door. They’re probably wondering where I am.”
She spun and looked at him, almost as if she’d forgotten he was still there. “Oh, yeah…I’ll let you out and then lock up behind you.”
She offered him a rare smile, an enticing curve of the lips that tempted much too much, and damn, he couldn’t look away. He lifted his hands, cradled her cheeks, and against his better judgment leaned down and kissed her—an impulse he hadn’t been able to stop—hadn’t wanted to, even though he was quite certain he’d regret it later.
Her lips softened under his for the breath of a moment before she laid her palms against his chest and took a step away from him, her eyes wide. Unsure, shocked, or accusing—he didn’t know—maybe all three.
“Why’d you do that?” She took another step back—toward the island—tow
ard a barrier. “You said I’m not your type, so why would you do that?”
He released a shaky breath, more affected by that brief taste of her lips than he’d anticipated, than he should be.
“I’m not sure. I think I was just curious.”
Her whiskey eyes narrowed on him and she folded her arms around her stomach, hugged her waist. “Thanks for the boxes, carrying them in and breaking them down, but I think it’s time for you to take your curious ass back to your own building.”
He grinned at her. She was proving to be much more of a spitfire than he’d thought when they first met.
She didn’t look like she wanted to throw anything at him. She didn’t look like she wanted to do a happy dance, as Krista would say when something good happened, but she didn’t look like she’d hated what just happened, either. For some reason, that pleased him very much.
CHARLIE REORGANIZED the cabinets for the third time, trying to think of how she’d be using the kitchen and where storing each item made the most sense. She wasn’t moving the mixers again until she knew for sure where their final resting place would be—the things were beasts.
In need of a break, she poured a cup of coffee from the inexpensive coffeemaker she’d picked up at Speckles so she could make herself some when she was there working to get the store ready for opening. She planned to open for business in just over two weeks, and there was still a lot to do.
Blake had assured her that they would be able to finish the floors this weekend, and he and Justin would get the store cases and the rest of the countertops in next week. If everything went according to plan, that would give her about a week and a half to stock supplies, set up the front of the store, and add the finishing touches she hoped would give the place the kind of charm she envisioned.
She took her coffee over to the island and leaned her hip against the counter. Standing there, she realized she needed to get a couple of stools that could tuck under the overhang so there’d be a place to sit when she was decorating cakes or just taking a break.
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