“Rachel Baxter” jumped off the page. This was his grandmother’s recipe.
“It should taste exactly the same,” Rebecca said as she rested her elbows on the counter, “because I followed the recipe to a tee.”
This close, he could see a fine sprinkling of white powder down the side of her nose. The urge to wipe it away was strong.
“Yeah, but she left off the secret ingredient,” Cole said, and wondered when his voice had gotten so rough. “She never would have allowed that to escape the family.” He crammed one cookie in his mouth to chase away the emotion that bubbled in the center of his chest. Crying over a cookie would be so ridiculous. There was no way it was going to happen.
Then he noticed the way Rebecca ducked her head. She was fussily arranging the cooled cookies in the remaining tub. She’d done this, gone to this trouble, for him. “Brown sugar. That’s the secret.” Cole cleared his throat and waited for her to turn and argue with him. They did much better when they were at odds instead of...whatever uneasy dance this was. He didn’t know what to call it. He should be happy she’d stopped dodging him or retreating, but coming toward him was taking him off guard.
“You sprinkle it with the other sugar. Over the top.” Cole bent to try to catch her eye. “I’m not sure you’d even notice it was there, but Mimi loved brown sugar. Put it in everything.”
Why had she made these? Because she was determined to improve him? He fiddled with the dachshund oven mitt she’d discarded along with the hot pan. “Was this a gift from Sarah?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “How’d you guess?”
“She’s dog-crazy. I’m not sure it occurs to her that not everyone in her life is the same.” Cole pointed at the remaining cookies. “These are great. I don’t know how you managed to find it but...” He couldn’t even figure out how he wanted to end that sentence. Thank you? Don’t do it again? I’m an emotional wreck and can’t handle it when people do nice things for me so save us both some awkwardness and go back to watching me like a wild animal that’s wandered in through an open door?
“Brown sugar, hmm.” Rebecca shook her head. “I would have had to do some guessing to discover that.” She plopped both hands down on the folded apron he’d dropped on the counter. “Thanks for returning this.”
“I sure didn’t need it.” Cole bit into a sugar cookie, braced this time for the nostalgia and the sweet memory of opening his lunch bag to find one packed carefully in plastic wrap. They hadn’t had much, but whatever she could do to show him she cared, his grandmother had done happily.
What an idiot he’d been to throw away any of the time he might have had with her.
The hard lump in his throat should have made him mad, but he was too tired and too ragged at this point.
“This reminds me of a lot. Happy times. Thank you.” Cole pointed at the stack of books. “Looks like you had to do some searching. You shouldn’t have.” That wasn’t what he meant, but it sounded much better than “Why would you spend time on that for me?”
“I know. It’s embarrassing how many cookbooks I own. I should go through them and pare my collection down to what I use. That space could go for actual food then.” She held out both arms. “But I love them. My mother started my collection for me when I was still too short to reach the countertop. The hardest part was putting together how old you were in the photo and what year you were born. After that, it was easy.” She wrinkled her nose. “Younger than me. That hurts a little.”
Cole grunted. “If it counts, I feel like I should be retiring any second.” He rolled his shoulders. “Although, every day I might be getting younger.”
Their eyes met and she nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”
“If you decide to get rid of them, you could donate them to the shelter for a yard sale. Then you’d be doing something good with the things you love.” Cole ran a finger over the smooth edge of the countertop. He should get up. He’d done everything he had to do. Loaded the van: check. Dropped off the apron: check. Avoided any conversation about why she’d hugged him: check, check, check. He had an early day tomorrow. They both did. He’d be doing them a favor if he got up. Now.
“Good idea. Make sure you pass it along to Sarah and don’t be a bit surprised if your task at next year’s adoption event is running a rummage sale.” Rebecca’s voice was shaky. Was she afraid again? He should go.
Why didn’t he want to get up? Suddenly, leaving felt like saying goodbye to home. And that was insane. His home had never once been this nice.
“You know, I could show you how to make those cookies,” Rebecca said slowly. He wondered if she’d expected those words to come out of her mouth. “I’m convinced sweet treats make life worth living. You could put on the apron. Fifteen minutes and some secret ingredient later, and you’d never have to wait to have that memory. You could make it for yourself.”
Tempting. It was like she could see all the way into the tightest corner of his heart and understand what he regretted most wasn’t the time he’d spent in jail, but what he’d lost in time at home. Who would he have been with someone like her in his life at sixteen? Someone who believed he deserved not only to have a dream but to pursue it?
She was dangerous.
“Some other time.” He tapped the apron. “I’m not sure this is my color.”
“Too frilly? An insult to your manliness?” Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “This one’s much nicer than the canvas one you wear at work.”
“The one at work is a tool belt...with pockets. For tools.” He opened the apron and draped it over his chest. “This one’s got daisies on it.” He met her stare, the laughter in her eyes filling that strange bubble in the middle of his chest again. “I’m more of a daffodil man.”
She frowned. “Unexpected floral knowledge. You’re all kinds of contradictions.”
“That could be true, but I had some training in landscape planning...inside.” Cole crossed his arms over his chest, almost satisfied to remind her that he wasn’t her typical visitor. “Remember?”
“Right.” Rebecca licked her lips. “Well, the offer stands. If you’d like to add baking skills to your résumé, let me know.”
This was a terrible idea, getting comfortable talking with her like this. The two of them might as well live on different planets.
“What caused the change of heart?” Cole asked. “Why aren’t you pale and trembling right now? We’re all alone.” He carefully watched her face. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he honestly wanted to understand how she could go from panic attack to hug attack.
She stacked the remaining tins and he was pretty sure she was going to pretend not to hear his question. Then she sighed. “Honestly, I’m not usually an idiot, Cole. I know I can say that and you have no reason to believe it, but this thing between you and me, the fear, it has no real reason. Even Eric... When I had a chance to talk to him, I could see he’s a kid. A big, strong kid who made a mistake.”
“Right, but a smart woman would be on the lookout for the next mistake.” Cole bent forward. “That mistake could be life or death for you.” He hated to consider that. He was in control of his anger. Eric was, too. Most of the time anyway. Who knew how many other kids with hair-trigger tempers roamed the halls with her? And she honestly believed the best of every single one of them. It was a miracle she was still in one piece.
“I’m not going to live my life expecting people to make mistakes. I refuse.” She tilted her head to the side. “And I’m not going to live with my own mistakes any longer, either. I should have helped Eric long before his senior year. Most of my good works have boiled down to writing checks. Maybe that doesn’t make me a hypocrite, but it does taste bad in my mouth now. My brother is living his life helping other people. Sarah has changed her whole world in order to make the difference she wants. I can’t even drive into a trailer park without hyperventil
ating. That’s sad. I’m not going to live with that mistake anymore. I’m not going to preach helping others while I’m too scared to physically act.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, none of that would have been included. “You’re too good to be true. You get that, right?” But it wasn’t exactly that, because he still liked her. He shouldn’t like her if everything she’d said was true.
“It’s easy to believe that if all you know is—” Rebecca ruffled her curls “—what the town says about me or what I’d say about myself most days. The real me is about frivolous kitchens and the easy way out.”
Cole wasn’t sure if his eyes bugged out or not, but the whistling in his ears could be steam escaping or the breeze caused by whipping his head around. He did know his jaw dropped open. “That’s the real everyone. You expect to be better than human?”
“I could have lived with the old kitchen. I did for a long time. There’s not so much different between yours and my old kitchen. Families used them. There was love there.” She ran a hand down the stainless steel refrigerator. “But I’d mourn losing this lovely.”
The hard laugh couldn’t be contained. “I thought you were crazy to insist everyone have a dream, but now I know there’s something not right in your head. Again, I say lower your expectations. For yourself at least because...” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether he should call her a martyr or try to reason with her. Either way, he wasn’t the man for the job.
“I better go.” His head was already aching from trying to follow her train of thought. More talking would not help. He slid his hands under the tins and turned to leave, but he paused at the door. “You feel guilty for winning the lottery?”
He honestly couldn’t wrap his head around it. She put her money down, played the same odds everyone else did. What was there to feel guilty about?
“I had a good life, Cole. My parents love me. My brother is annoyingly good at everything, but how can anyone complain about that? I have a job I love. What did I do to deserve this?”
Cole set the cookies down and rubbed his hand over his head. “So I was a bad baby, I guess. That’s what made my father leave and my mother leave and...” He met her stare. “Is that what you mean? We only get what we deserve? Sure, jail I deserved. I did something stupid. But...the rest of it?”
“Of course not.” Rebecca rounded the counter and put a hand in the center of his chest, right over the hand pressed against his heart. “It’s not the same.”
“Sure it is. Good things happen. Bad things happen. Some are the result of a choice, but for the most part it’s all just...the way it is.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about the good things. In my experience, something bad’s headed your way to cancel that right out.”
Rebecca tugged at his hand and then laughed. “Thank you for those cheerful words.”
Cole laughed, too, the sound unfamiliar, but the tight knot in his chest loosened. “I’m just saying, I’ve been on a pretty solid roll lately. I’m not feeling one bit of guilt, either.”
“Yeah, okay,” Rebecca said as she rolled her eyes. “Because your life is over and you’re only marking the days.”
Cole tried to loosen his hand, but Rebecca held on. “I’ll stop worrying about wasting this money on the kitchen if you’ll think of one thing you’d like to have. We won’t call it a dream. We’ll call it a goal.”
Rebecca Lincoln, lit by the overhead glow and gleaming surfaces of her beautiful, comfortable kitchen, was a vision. Her ruffled apron and the smell of cookies in the air was a ridiculous amount of home, sweet home. In that second, it wasn’t difficult to imagine one thing he’d like to have.
A kiss.
Thinking the words changed the atmosphere between them. His focus on her lips might have been clue enough for Rebecca. Her grin faded, but she wasn’t afraid of him. If he pulled her close, she’d kiss him. He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but the instinct was there, no matter how long it had been since he’d stood in the same spot with a beautiful woman.
“You gonna write me a check to cover it?” He wanted to make her mad, to back her up. Instead, she wagged her head as if she was sad about his pitiful attempt.
“You don’t have to tell me what it is, whatever you’re thinking of, right now.” Rebecca’s husky voice broke the tension between them.
“Why did you do it? Why go to all the trouble to hunt down the recipe and make those cookies for me?” He had to know the answer. Until he heard it, it would be impossible to breathe properly.
“I wanted to do something nice for you. Because I like you. You’re a good man doing a hard thing and I wanted you to have something sweet.” She shrugged. “No sneaky motive or plan to pull any strings. That’s it. You deserve good things, Cole.”
Confused, Cole studied her eyes. She meant every single word. A good man?
In a crazy, breathless rush, Cole wrapped his hand around her wrist and leaned in to press his lips against hers. It was so fast, it might not even qualify as a kiss. But...when he stepped back, her eyelids were heavy and his head was filled with the scent of lemons.
And more than anything, he wanted to do it again.
What a huge mistake.
Afraid he’d be unable to control the impulse if he hung around much longer, Cole picked up the tins of cookies and made a straight shot for the door. Even without the lemon scent, he’d know she was right behind him. He had the feeling that for the rest of his time on this earth, he’d know if Rebecca Lincoln was close by.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT HAD BEEN a while since Rebecca had such a close call with a kiss, and she’d never felt as awkward as she did about running a bake sale in the middle of Holly Heights. That brief brush of his lips had been on her mind all night, but she still wasn’t sure what to do about it. On Saturday morning, she’d arrived bright and early, just as Cole and Eric had unloaded the last stack of cakes. Before she could figure out what she wanted to say to pretend that everything was cool cool cool, Cole had held up two fingers in some weird wave and disappeared with the van.
“We should have coordinated better,” Brenda muttered as she glanced up. The stack of cakes was impressive unless they wanted to be able to see over them to talk to people. “A town this size does not need this much sugar. We’ll be having episodes—people hopped up on baked goods. It’ll draw national attention.”
“Well, if we can sell them all, we’ll know exactly how powerful we are,” Rebecca answered. “Thank you for working so hard to help out. I know Sarah appreciates it.”
“Certainly didn’t do it all for Sarah. That girl made Jen and Will miserable in high school. They might have called a truce, but mothers have long memories. She seems to be making my boy happy now, but I’m keeping my eye on her.” Brenda offered her the cashbox. “Jen said she’d help with the baking, so I was happy to do it. Since it takes serious arm twisting to get that girl in the kitchen, I didn’t want to miss my chance.”
Rebecca tried to imagine how smoothly that must have gone. “Is your house still standing?”
Brenda snorted. “Barely. And if she doesn’t stop yammering at me about selling it and moving into the castle she’s building, I’m going to change all the locks and forget how to answer the door when she visits.”
“She wants to take care of you.” Rebecca studied her tubs and tins of cookies. “Think we ought to break this up? Make some smaller sets?”
Brenda pulled out a box of plastic bags. “You bet.”
They worked quickly and were ready for business right on time. The Paws for Love van rolled to a stop at the corner of the town square. All the volunteers had been working on building small pens and the kennels for the cats, but they converged on the van. Of course, Cole towered over the teenagers and other workers, so it was easy to track his movements.
And then she could hear the bay
of an excited beagle.
“Sounds like Freddie’s here,” she murmured. How well would Cole handle anyone interested in adopting Freddie? It would be hard to see the little dog go. Some dogs came in and left before the staff all got attached. Freddie, because of his story and his personality, would be missed, and not just by Cole.
After a minute she realized Brenda was watching her closely, her lips twitching. “What?”
“Oh, I’m interested to see which dog has you wrapped around his or her paw.” Brenda smiled brightly. “Or is it the man? Who is he?”
Rebecca laughed breathily in an attempt to pretend that Brenda was being absolutely ridiculous. “No way. I was wondering if I needed to go over and help. That’s all.” She stacked more plastic bags in front of her. “That’s Cole. He works at the shelter.”
“Works at the shelter” didn’t even begin to cover everything he did, but if she raved over his training skills, his work ethic, how patient he was with her students, Brenda might suspect Rebecca was spending too much time thinking about Cole. That suspicion would spread like juicy gossip always did, until her friends were all demanding details.
“You guys ready?” Sarah barely looked up from her clipboard. “We’ve got about ten minutes.” She turned to study the dogs lined up with their volunteers and then spun around. Her eyes doubled in size. “Oh, my bakery, there is a lot of sugar on that table.”
“Some of it’s gluten free.” Brenda held up a finger. “Those should be marked. Dinah will be interested. I can sell her two of my chocolate pound cakes. She won’t even believe I figured out how to make them so tasty.” She hustled away to track down her permanent marker.
“Everything under control?” Rebecca asked casually. She wasn’t sure why she expected Sarah to be able to read her confusion over Cole and the kiss on her face, but it seemed important to act like nothing was wrong.
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