by Cole Gibsen
“Just a sec,” a voice calls back.
My chest tightens. Too much gunfire in the desert screwed up my ears. I must be mistaken.
The doors swing wide and Emily walks out. Her hair is tied back with a green bandana, and flour is streaked across her cheeks. She holds a large baking sheet with several buns balanced on top. “These are straight from the oven, so they’re still hot.”
The dark-haired girl nods and begins removing the buns with a set of tongs.
My first instinct is to run, but I find I can’t convince my feet to move. So far, she hasn’t seen me. But that ends the second Goose whines.
Emily glances at my dog. She studies her with interest before her eyes track the length of her leash, to my hand, then travel up my body until they come to rest on my face. Her lips part and the edge of her baking sheet dips toward the floor as several buns topple off the side.
“Emily! What the hell?” The dark-haired girl grabs a nearby towel and yanks the baking sheet away from Emily before she loses any more buns.
“I, uh…fuck,” Emily says, her eyes never leaving mine.
I wonder if Tonya knew Emily worked here before sending me on this fool’s errand.
“Em, I’m so sorry.” It’s true, I realize. I’m sorry for showing up and surprising her like I did, but the moment the words leave my mouth, it dawns on me I’m sorry for so much more than that. “I’m just…God, I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry.”
The customers gathered in the lobby fall silent. Many look away.
Emily’s face crumples, and she puts a hand to her mouth. “You have a dog,” she says, her voice cracking.
“You have a bakery,” I reply.
She laughs. “Yeah.”
I spent an entire summer running from her. All that time, it never occurred to me, when I finally saw her, it would feel like I never left. “I missed you.” After lying to myself for so long, I’m surprised at how easily the truth finally comes out.
She drops her hands and takes a tentative step toward the counter dividing us. “I missed you, too.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Me, too.”
“I never should have…”
“I know.” She cuts me off.
For the first time since the desert, the people surrounding us fade away. There’s only me and her. And such precious, little time. I refuse to waste anymore.
“I had to get away,” I tell her. “I had to figure some stuff out.”
She hops onto the counter and swings her feet over the edge. “Me, too. What did you figure out?”
“I want to stop pissing my life away. I want a life, a real one. What did you figure out?”
She laughs. “Exactly the same thing.”
I step toward her. “You have any space in your new, real, life for me?”
Grinning, she says, “I might be able to make some room.”
I can’t stand it. I cannot physically tolerate the space dividing us anymore. Before she can react, I drop Goose’s leash and snatch her off the counter. My knee twinges, but I ignore the pain. Because it’s worth it.
Every last drop of pain.
Worth it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emily
I imagined all the things I’d do when I saw Reece again—pretend not to know him, blow him off, flip him the bird, key his bike, and more. Never, in every fantasy played out in my head, did I imagine myself allowing him to pick me up off my feet, let alone kiss me.
Then again, I never knew I wanted to own my own bakery. I guess part of growing up is not only discovering yourself, but also discovering what it is you want.
And I want Reece.
I’m vaguely aware of my employee’s shocked gasp and the stares of our patrons as I curl my fingers into Reece’s hair and his lips meet mine. Maybe I look unprofessional, but I’m past the point of caring.
I touch the stubble on his usually smooth cheeks. His hair is longer, the ends just curling around the bottom of his ears. And his skin is darker, too. One thing hasn’t changed, though. His kiss is just as searing as I remember, and I find myself melting into it.
“I was an idiot,” Reece murmurs against my neck when we finally part lips. “I was trying to push you away.”
“I think I was looking for a reason to be pushed.”
He nods, setting me back on the ground. “So how about it then, will you marry me?”
“Cute,” I tell him, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re a jokester now. Who are you, and what have you done with Reece?”
He grins. “I was funny once. Feels like a lifetime ago. I guess you’re going to have to get to know me all over again.”
“I’ve been sober for three months.” I throw my hands wide. “It turns out I do have ambition. I’m kind of obsessed with this place. I think you’re going to have to get to know me, too.”
“Fair enough.”
“If we do this again,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck, “I want to do things differently.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“This time I want strings,” I say, leaning in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of strings.
“You got it,” he replies with a grin. “I’ll entangle you in so many strings you’ll never get away from me again.”
Epilogue
Emily
Six months later
I’m lounging on the small bed, reading a book in the tiny camper, when the door bursts open. Goose bounds inside, followed by Reece and an armful of fish.
I squeal as an icy gust fills the small room. “Close the door,” I cry, scrambling to wrap myself in a blanket.
He grins. “I come bearing gifts.” He holds his fish out like a trophy.
I wrinkle my noise. “Your gift stinks. Literally.”
He laughs. “I’ll put them out in the cooler.” He disappears out the door and returns a moment later fish-free. He plops down on the pull-out bench and begins removing his boots. “Did you miss me?”
I grin. “Always.”
He returns my smile. “You could have come out on the lake with me.”
I pull the blanket tighter. “One fishing trip a decade is enough for me, thank you very much.”
He makes a face. “And yet you’re making me go to a baking tradeshow tomorrow? How is that fair?”
“Really? Let’s think about that. Icy temperatures, bugs, and smelly fish versus indoor heating, working plumbing, and delicious food. There’s no contest.”
“Speaking of delicious food… We have any of that kugelis stuff left?”
“In the mini fridge.”
He makes a beeline for the fridge, pulls out the red Tupperware container, opens the lid, smells the kugelis, and smiles. “What is it about this that makes it so magical?”
“That would be my grandma’s secret ingredient—bacon fat.”
“I think I love your grandma.”
I laugh. “Me, too.”
His face grows serious, and he sets the kugelis aside. “Em, I love you, too.”
My breath stills in my chest, and I’m sure I’ve misheard him. “What?”
Without using his cane, he takes slow steps toward me before climbing next to me on the bed. “I do. I have. For a long time. I guess I’ve been afraid to say anything for fear of scaring you off again. But I think you should know. I love you, Emily Garrett.”
“I love you, too.” And I do. I’ve known practically from the first date. But as someone so terrified of commitment, I was too afraid to tell him. Maybe even more afraid to tell myself.
“Listen”—he takes my hands—“I know you don’t want a guy who’s going to control you. And I would never be that guy, Em. I love your surprises—the way you keep me guessing what you’re going to do next. This is your journey. I just want to go on the trip with you.”
He motions to Goose. With her tail wagging, the black Labrador trots over. I notice she’s carrying something in her mouth, but I can’t tell what it is until the she
deposits it onto my lap. A box. A tiny black box. The kind rings come in.
I gasp. “What the hell is that?”
“I wish I could get down on a knee,” Reece says. “Given my bum knee, I wouldn’t be able to get back up again.” He opens the box, revealing a raw-cut stone flashing every color of the rainbow. “It’s a moonstone,” he says, answering my unasked question. “A unique stone for my unique girl. I know you have a thing about commitment, but, Emily, I know there’s no other woman for me. This just feels right.”
He takes the thin gold band out of the box and holds the ring out to me. “Emily Garrett, will you let me ride shotgun?”
“Yes.” The word leaves my tongue before I have a chance to think about it. He wasn’t kidding when he said it felt right—more than right, actually. Perfect. Reece is the man who will stand beside me, never in front of me, blocking the way. Just like I’m prepared to stand beside him, to support him when he needs to lean on me.
He slides the ring down my ring finger. It’s too big, so I slip it onto my middle finger instead.
“I guess we’ll have to get it sized,” Reece says.
“Nope. I think it looks better there.”
He laughs. “Whatever you want.”
That gives me pause. It’s funny to think how far I’ve come in the last year. From a girl who wanted no attachments and had no idea what to do with her life, to finally figuring things out. “This.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “What?”
“This.” I hold my arms out wide. “The stinky fish, the RV, the bakery, you, the dog, this life.” I wrap my arms around his neck and draw him to me for what I hope will be one of a million kisses. “This, and whatever is left to come. That’s what I want.”
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Acknowledgments
As always, I have to thank my incredible husband for his bottomless well of patience and support. You taught me that true love exists outside the covers of romance novels.
I want to thank my amazing agent, Nicole Resciniti, for her support, encouragement, and for the two a.m. hotel lobby conversations over a glass of crown.
This book wouldn’t have been possible without the genius insight of editor extraordinaire Liz Pelletier. I can’t thank you enough for making me a part of the Entangled family.
Lydia Sharp, thank you for the comma addiction intervention. I need a twelve-step program.
Heather Riccio, thank you for always having my back. And Rhianna Walker, thank you so much for that cup of coffee. You made me feel like a rock star.
As always, this book is only partially mine. The rest belongs to my amazing critique partners, Brad Cook, T.W. Fendley, and Jennifer Lynn. Your brilliant insights made this book what it is.
About the Author
At seventeen Cole found herself homeless with only a beat-up Volkswagen Jetta and a bag of Goodwill clothing to her name. The only things that got her through the nights she spent parked in truck stops and cornfields were the stacks of books she checked out from the library along with her trusty flashlight. Because of the reprieve these books gave her from her troubles, Cole vowed to become a writer so she could provide the same escape to readers who needed a break the reality of their own lives.
www.colegibsen.com
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