Sweet Delights

by P. L. Harris

  “Mum would want you to be happy. I’m twelve now, you don’t need to worry about me anymore. We’ll still miss Mum every day, but you shouldn’t be miserable when Holly can make you happy. You shine when you talk about her. Don’t try and deny it.”

  Sam’s expression eased and his gaze caught hers. His eyes mesmerised her. “I wasn’t going to.”

  Holly was close to losing her grip on reality. “Excuse me? But does someone want to tell me what is going on?”

  Kyle grabbed her hand and squeezed it to his heart for a moment before releasing. “I’m sorry for lying to you, Holly, but I couldn’t think of another way to get you over here. I told Dad I was cooking a special dinner for us, but it’s really for you two. You like my dad and he likes you so why should you both be miserable when you can be happy together?”

  Happy together?

  His words raced through her mind. “Is this really happening?” The words escaped her lips in a whisper.

  Sam chuckled and stepped towards her, his musky aftershave weakening her knees. “Afraid so. It appears my son has decided that you should be in our lives. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realise it. I’ve been so focused on Kyle and protecting him from more hurt, that I locked my heart away. Shielded it, but not anymore.” Fire lit his eyes. Their gaze deadlocked with desire. He withdrew the Tupperware cupcake holder from her hand and passed it to Kyle. He cupped her face in his hands and she held her breath as he captured her lips in a long, intense kiss.

  Desire whispered through her veins. He caught her gasp of shock and swallowed it up as his tongue danced over hers. She melted into his chest like butter. He placed gentle kisses, feather soft across her mouth. She weaved her arms around his waist and pulled him close. She savoured the taste of him, willing the kiss to never end.

  Holly pulled back, sucking in much needed air. “I thought you didn’t like me?”

  “Oh, I like you,” Sam said. He smiled and smoothed his hand over her hair. “Maybe too much. I was just afraid. Kyle is one smart boy.”

  Mortification slammed into her gut. How could she kiss Sam in front of his son? Her breathing sped up and she pushed away and turned towards the empty spot where Kyle once stood. “Kyle?”

  “Holly?” Sam waited for her to look at him. “Kyle has gone to a lot of trouble to set this evening up and I’d hate to disappointment him.” He paused a moment and held his hand out in a silent invitation. “Would you do me the honour of having dinner with me? Just the two of us. It will give us a chance to get to know each other and maybe, just maybe I’ll be able to give you a reason to stay in Sundance Creek.”

  Heat rushed to Holly’s cheeks and her heart filled with hope and desire for the future. She reached for his hand and squeezed, gifting him a heart-warming smile. “You already have.”

  Cinnamon Buns and Blind Dates

  Fionna Gosgrove

  The sweet, spicy smell of cinnamon icing permeated my nostrils, sending my already way too high adrenaline into overdrive.

  “Liz?” Annaliese’s voice drifted in from the shop floor. “Are you alright?”

  My brain was having trouble functioning and my insides were all fluffy, like a human version of a marshmallow. Did that count as alright?

  “Liz?” Anna repeated.

  “Um...fine,” I lied.

  Anna appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Really? Then why has the oven bell been going off for five minutes, and the sugar syrup is practically caramel?” She darted behind the stovetop and switched off the gas before opening up the oven which was mere seconds away from sending my brioche rolls into charred buns of death.

  “Oh God.” I exhaled, leaning against the metal benchtop. “I’m a wreck.”

  Anna slid the hot tray onto the bench, before attempting to salvage what was left of the sugary mess in the pot.

  “You need to relax. It’s just a date.”

  I winced. A date. Such a short word for the plethora of sticky emotions it created. My stomach twisted as I thought of the little reserved sign sitting on the table between two sparkling champagne glasses, ready for some morning bubbles and sweet delights. That was if I didn’t burn said delights to a crisp before he arrived. And it was just a he at this point.

  “Why did I agree to this?” I groaned. “I hate dates. Blind dates even more. I’m gonna throw up.”

  Anna put her hands on my shoulders and guided my head down between my knees, laughing the whole time.

  “You think the utter mess that is my life is amusing?” I muttered.

  “Oh please,” laughed Anna. “Utter mess? You own the most successful bakery in the south-west. Only you, Miss, skip off to Paris for two years, could come home and make cinnamon buns a must have among shearers and farmers. Don’t you dare play the sob card with me, Miss Trenton.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled, accepting Anna’s well-deserved scolding. “My life in general is good. Just the love part is sub par.”

  Anna lowered her voice. “And why do we think that is?” Without looking, I knew she was staring out the kitchen door to the front of the patisserie, keeping a keen eye out for any eavesdroppers.

  Anna and I had both grown up in Harvey, born and bred farmer’s daughters. We could drive trucks well before we could apply mascara. Still to this day, I found reversing a trailer easier than applying eye-liner. As well as an understanding for all things automotive, we learned very early that there wasn’t an orange tree or fence post that didn’t have ears. And the last thing I wanted was for my blind date to get out into the general public. It was prime gossip fodder.

  “Enlighten me,” I said.

  Anna smirked. “You and Matt have been keeping each other single since ’89.”

  “Anna!” I lifted my head and peered through the open kitchen door.

  Misty, our newest recruit, was busy prepping the front of the house for opening, too far away to hear us.

  “Don’t Anna me,” Anna replied, giving me a playful push, before returning her attention to the caramelised pot. “Matt’s loved you since you were three.”

  Matt, the boy next door, turned studly farmer right before my eyes. My best friend of thirty years.

  I brushed off Anna’s suggestion, despite the aching in my chest, hoping it was indeed him. “I’m pretty sure until the age of ten, Matt loved his BMX.”

  “True,” agreed Anna. “But you came a very close second.”

  I stood up, slowly, so as not to irritate my already sensitive gag reflex. A variety of emotions swelled in my stomach, ranging from excitement to absolute terror.

  “Anna,” I said hesitantly. “Do you really think it’s Matt?”

  Anna put the now clean pot to the side, and I made a mental note to thank her for her wondrous washing abilities.

  “Don’t you?” she asked.

  “I hope...I mean, I think...Maybe? Possibly?” I shook my head like some kind of possessed dashboard bobble toy before collapsing against the countertop, too emotionally exhausted to sieve through the tidal wave of thoughts crashing over me.

  “Liz, please,” Anna sighed. “Save the dramatics for when you’re actually in the relationship. Now, let’s look at the facts. Mr mystery date left a note on your car, calling you Elizabeth, specifically. Now, do we know anyone who calls you Elizabeth?”

  I nodded, giving her that one. Matt was the only person in town who referred to me by my full name, much to my annoyance.

  Anna made a tick in the air with her finger before continuing. “And who, just one hour before you found said note on your windshield, was in the patisserie, sweaty palmed and red faced?”

  Right again. Matt had stopped in, looking uncharacteristically dishevelled that morning, while I was right in the middle of caramelising my creme brulees. He had looked so nervous he almost knocked Bryce, our poor newspaper kid over as he rushed out the door.

  “And, if I may refer to exhibit A.” Anna reached into my apron pocket, clearly knowing me too well, and pulled out the handwritten note in question. “
What other man in town writes with this kind of twelve-year-old scrawl?”

  I bit the side of my cheek to stop from laughing. Anna was three for three. Matt was somewhat of a savant when it came to all things mustering, and had a weird sixth sense for rain, but his handwriting skills really did peak in year six.

  Anna smiled as she tucked the note back into my apron. “Honestly, I for one am glad Matt finally took the plunge. It’s been utterly exhausting watching you two awkwardly salsa around each other all these years.”

  “I’ve never salsa-ed around Matt,” I said stubbornly.

  “Salsa-ed, tangoed, two stepped, occasionally snowballed.”

  I grabbed the nearest cloth and tossed it at her. Unfortunately, Anna was too quick and snatched it out of the air before it could slap her in the face.

  “Matt and I have always been friends,” I said. “Since birth, practically.”

  Anna made a little coughing noise in her mouth indicating she wasn’t buying it.

  “Okay, fine. At times there has been a little...tension...”

  “Tension? Is that what the cool kids are calling it nowadays?”

  I gave my eyes a good rolling.

  “Was it tension that caused Matt’s fist to connect with Mike Snook’s jaw when his hand grabbed your ass in the middle of the year ten dance?”

  “I would expect no less of any friend,” I said. “My ass is mine, and mine alone to grab.”

  “Fair point, well, how about year eleven camp where Matt almost got frostbite sleeping outside your tent, just so Evan Pilchard couldn’t sneak in to see you.”

  “That was never about me and Evan,” I said, raising a finger into the air. “Matt got stuck into his dad’s whiskey and couldn’t find his way back to his swag.”

  “So he said,” Anna replied. “But I heard him that night, mumbling away about Evan’s wandering eye.”

  “Never proven.”

  “Okay then, what about when Matt came back from Ag college and you were with Loui?”

  I grimaced at the utter debacle that was my first real relationship. Our last year of high school. Matt left a year early, securing himself a spot at the Agricultural College a few hours away. I couldn’t hide how much I missed him, especially not to Anna. But when Loui arrived at our school halfway through the year, things got better. That was until they got worse. Matt came home just in time to witness hurricane Loui, and the trail of destruction he left.

  “What?” I asked with a smirk, as Anna started giggling uncontrollably.

  “Just remembering Matt riding bareback down the main strip,” Anna wiped her eyes as she struggled to get the rest of the story out. “...chasing Loui with a lasso as he sung the Pokémon theme song ‘gotta catch em all gotta catch em all’!”

  I laughed along with Anna. It had been an amusing afternoon. Matt had just found out Loui cheated on me at the year twelve formal, and wasn’t shy in showing his disapproval. Loui was a city kid without a chance. It was that night that Matt and I sat on the front porch of his parent’s farm, and though he never actually professed his undying love, there was definitely something in the air. I was so broken over Loui, and so scared that anything Matt and I became would end up the same way, I panicked, launched into a novel length soliloquy about what a great friend Matt was, and how that was better than any boyfriend could ever be. Matt seemed to agree at the time, but I always wondered if I hadn’t said that, what he might have had in store.

  “Thank goodness Matt never caught him,” continued Anna. “Loui would’ve been sheared and neutered before he knew what hit him.”

  Both Anna and I were wiping away tears of laughter when Misty appeared in the doorway.

  “Um, are you guys okay?” she asked.

  I nodded, waiting for my breath to catch up and the giggles to subside.

  “Oh, love,” laughed Anna, taking a big gulp of air. “We’re fine. Just known each other too long.”

  “What do you need, Misty?” I smiled.

  “Bryce is here with the paper, I just wanted to grab the keys to open up. It’s almost ten.”

  My stomach tightened. Almost date time.

  “Of course,” I said, my hands shaking as I grabbed the silver key from the hook near the door, and handed it over.

  Misty’s brow furrowed as she witnessed the unsteadiness of my hands.

  “Don’t mind her,” said Anna, with a smug smile. “She’s just excited a decade’s worth of tension is about to explode all over this patisserie.”

  I grimaced at Anna’s vivid description.

  Misty laughed as she took the key from my hand. “Does this have something to do with that reserved table in the back?”

  I hadn’t told Misty anything about the table, just that I had set it up and would take care of it this morning. I had purposefully set it up around the back, away from prying eyes.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  Misty nodded, a wry smile tugging at her lips, as she left to go let Bryce in.

  “That kid deserves a medal,” said Anna.

  “Misty?”

  “No, Bryce.”

  I nodded. “Never missed a day.”

  “He’s like a twelve-year-old Steve Jobs.”

  “Come again?”

  “Just swap Apple for a newspaper run,” she explained. “I mean those community newspapers are free, yet he convinced us to pay him to drop off a few every morning. The kid’s an entrepreneurial genius. He’s going places.”

  I laughed as I tidied up my station.

  “What time’s the big date?” Anna asked.

  “Ten.”

  Anna sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “It’s go-time my friend.”

  I HUNG UP MY FLOUR dusted apron and undid my standard pony tail, attempting to fluff the roots a little so I didn’t look so much like a heat-stroked calf. I had swapped out my usual jeans and tee for a navy cotton dress with little cap sleeves. Matt had simple taste, and I doubted he would notice if I wore my pyjamas, but I had wanted a little more. I slid off my extra comfy sneakers, and put on a pair of nude sandals, while simultaneously applying some peach lip gloss.

  Anna was loading up a tray of the warm brioche buns when I emerged. Maybe now I was at least a little presentable.

  “Ooh la la,” Anna winked.

  “Shush,” I blushed. I drizzled cinnamon icing over the top of the fresh buns, before walking with the tray out to the front to load up the last of the freshly baked treats for the morning.

  “Oh, Liz,” a high-pitched voice gasped.

  Mrs Hask, not only our number one customer, but the towns numero uno, one stop gossip shop, was standing in front of the display cabinet.

  “Morning Mrs Hask,” I said.

  “You look stunning, my love,” she said, as she patted down her head of grey curls.

  “Just trying something new,” I shrugged, as Anna expertly distracted Mrs Hask, peppering her with a dozen questions about her granddaughter.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed to Anna, as Mrs Hask launched into her granddaughter’s academic achievements...in kindergarten.

  God love Mrs Hask, but if she knew about the blind date, it would be on the community pages before the end of the hour.

  The shop was filling up with the usual morning crew wanting croissants, cinnamon buns, pies, and tarts, and I managed to disappear among the bustle to the back of the shop, where I had set up the little table for two.

  The back half of the patisserie was always quiet unless we had events on, so I was surprised when I heard someone shuffling around.

  “Bryce?” I asked. “Is that you?”

  Anna’s description of a mini Steve Jobs wasn’t far off the mark, especially this morning it seemed. Bryce was very dapperly dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a button up white shirt.

  Bryce smiled back nervously.

  “You can just leave the paper on the front counter,” I said, reaching the reserved table and smoothing out the white linen tablecloth.

  “That�
�s a nice table,” he said, nodding to the champagne glasses and little silver sign. “Is that for someone special?”

  Heat flushed my cheeks. “Well, it might be, yes.”

  “He’s a lucky guy,” said Bryce.

  “Thanks,” I laughed uncomfortably. “So, I’d normally love to chat, but I’m kind of waiting for someone. Why don’t you grab one of the cinnamon buns on your way out, tell Anna I said it’s on the house.”

  Bryce pulled his shoulders back and smiled. “That’s a lovely offer, Elizabeth, but I have another proposition for you this morning.”

  It took a red-hot moment for my brain to catch up, but when it did, my stomach dropped and that familiar nausea resurfaced with a vengeance.

  “Oh God.” All of the pieces were fitting together into a horribly misshapen jigsaw puzzle.

  Bryce’s face twisted. “You okay?”

  “Oh God, no,” I said, shaking my head and steadying myself against the white linen table, which now mocked me with all of its adultness.

  Bryce took a step forwards sending me ten steps backwards.

  It was at that precise moment that a toddling little woman with a fuzzy head of grey hair appeared at the end of the hallway. Wonderful.

  Mrs Hask’s eyes took in the reserved sign, the champagne glasses, and the dapperly dressed under-aged gentleman standing in front of it.

  “Oh my,” she chortled. “This isn’t the blind date that Misty mentioned, is it?”

  I made a mental note to fire Misty.

  Anna appeared behind Mrs Hask, breathless and red faced.

  “Christ, she’s faster than she looks!” she said, looking at the scene in front of her and the look of absolute horror on my face. “Oh no.”

  “She’s right down the end of the hall,” Misty’s voice echoed from the front of shop, followed by the absolute last voice I wanted to hear.

  “Cheers Misty,” said Matt.

  My stomach lurched at the thought of Matt finding me on a blind date that would send me straight to jail. My feet clearly had the same concerns, because they already had me stumbling towards the kitchen, making a beeline for the back door. I barrelled through the screen door, my grip-less sandals sending me skidding on the loose gravel of the parking lot. From behind me I heard Anna trying to stall Matt.