Love and Cupcakes

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Love and Cupcakes Page 18

by Susan Bishop Crispell


  “I want to make it up to you, Graham. I know I should have stayed in touch, been a better father. That’s a regret I have to live with.”

  “You knew where I was. You could have come back anytime in the past twenty years. Why do you think it will matter now?”

  His dad broke eye contact and stared at the floor. “I’d always hoped that when you found your soul mate you’d understand. That maybe you wouldn’t hate me anymore for feeling something that was out of my control.”

  He heard the truth in his dad’s voice. And hated it.

  Graham rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension knotting between them. He stayed silent for a moment, letting the implications sink in. His dad slipped his hands into his pockets and waited.

  “Are you still with her?” he asked.

  “I am,” his dad said.

  The back door beeped. A trickle of cool air worked its way up front and crept along the back of his neck. Graham rubbed a hand over the prickling skin. He moved a step closer to his dad.

  “Do you still feel the same pull toward her?”

  “It’s not something you can fight or ignore. And it’s not something that will ever go away. Every time I look at Beth, I know I would’ve been miserable trying to live without her. Does your girl make you feel that way?”

  Until the night before, Graham had been able to live without being with Jack. It hadn’t always been easy, but he’d managed. Now, he barely even had to close his eyes to relive the way she felt pressed up against him with a willing mouth and hands that dragged him closer until he thought he might melt into her.

  Could I live without that?

  “I don’t know,” Graham said, answering both his own question and his dad’s. “Some days it’s like she’s the only person in the world who matters. But I don’t remember our first touch. No matter what I try—looking at old pictures, meditating, writing down my earliest memory of her—nothing brings it to the surface. Almost like it never even happened. And I have no idea what that means for us.”

  “Then you’ve got your answer.” His dad shook his head, almost like he was disappointed too. “I’m sorry, Jaclyn,” he directed over Graham’s shoulder.

  Graham pivoted. Shit. How much did she hear? Jack stood in the doorway, mouth parted and eyes guarded. He met her gaze for a moment before she turned away. She heard enough, he decided.

  Walking around the counter, he kept his voice low. “I’m not you, Dad. And I’m not going to leave my love life up to fate.” He stood close enough that his elbow grazed his dad’s arm when Graham crossed his over his chest. It felt good to be able to look down at the man he’d once looked up to. “I’ve let it keep me from Jack long enough.”

  “Like it or not, you’re still a Hollingsworth. You don’t get a choice in this, the same as Jaclyn doesn’t get to control what she senses from people. It’s just a part of who you both are. The sooner you accept it, the happier you’ll both be.”

  I’ll be happier with her.

  Graham curled his hands into fists and stuffed them in his pockets. “You don’t know that, and you sure as hell don’t know what will make me happy. I need to go check on Jack.”

  He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t turn around.

  Jack didn’t look up from scrubbing at a dark spot on the floor with a sopping mop when he walked into the kitchen. Harper raised her pierced eyebrow at him. The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. He stood between them, not taking his eyes off Jack’s tense body. Her fingers were white on the mop handle. “Can you give us a minute, Harper?”

  “Uh-oh. Honeymoon period’s over already? Even I usually make it longer than that,” Harper said. Her short laugh filled the room.

  “Upstairs. Now.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Graham looked at her over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows, daring her to finish the sentence. He waited until he heard her footsteps fade on the stairs before slipping his hands onto Jack’s hips to keep her from pulling away.

  “I don’t think it can breathe,” he said.

  He eased her fingers from the rough wood of the handle and swept the mop out of the way. When she met his eyes, the sadness in hers made his chest ache again. He mentally cursed himself for being the cause. He tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered at the edge of her jaw. Her heartbeat pulsed under his thumb.

  She reached up and placed her hand over his. Her eyes fluttered closed for one second then another before she smiled weakly at him. “So, your dad, huh? Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. He saw the article and decided now would be a good time to reconnect and tell me how he thinks I should be living my life.”

  “And he doesn’t think it should be with me.”

  Graham pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It doesn’t matter what he said. I don’t believe him. Neither should you,” he said in a rush.

  But a part of him rebelled at his words. A part of him knew he was lying to both of them. A larger part didn’t care about anything but Jack.

  ***

  She watched two dozen or so people pause on the sidewalk and then reconsider entering the shop. Every one walked on by. A few looked disappointed about it. Most just ducked their heads and scurried away. Jack strode outside and checked the front of the building to make sure it hadn’t suddenly become invisible. The rust- and cream-colored bricks were still there. The front window sparkled in the sun. With the glare, she couldn’t see inside.

  Jack backed up a few steps so that she was standing in the street. She looked up at Harper’s window and realized her sister had painted the shutters a friendly teal to match the awning. A horn blared and she jumped back on the curb. Her heartbeat screamed in her ears.

  Harper shoved the window open and looked down. She rubbed her palms into her eyes and yawned. “What are you doing?” Harper called when she noticed Jack staring up at her.

  “Just looking.”

  “I was wondering when you were gonna notice. I got bored, you know, with the lack of anything to do downstairs. Want me to do anything else? Maybe make a mural on the wall or—”

  Jack shook her head. Would her sister never learn? “Not until you see a line of people coming out with boxes of cupcakes clutched in their hot little hands. But too many more days like this and we’ll both be out of jobs.”

  “I’ve got a little money saved from my last show. I can pay rent or buy supplies or whatever if you need me to. At least until things pick up again.” Harper rested her forearms on the windowsill. Her hair fell forward, shielding half of her face. The pink streaks almost blended in with the dark blond in the sun. “Don’t look now, but one of those customers with hot little hands is headed your way.” She smirked at Jack before ducking back inside the apartment.

  Jack didn’t have to turn around to know that Pete was a few feet away. The scent of gardenias and vanilla pulsed in the air. Subtle, undemanding. Nothing like what she’d felt from Graham the week before. Nothing like what she’d felt when he’d kissed her. She inhaled, letting the sweet smell fill her lungs.

  She turned to Pete and, pushing the disappointment down, smiled.

  “I have to tell you, I felt kinda special being one of the few who knew your secret. Now that everyone knows, they’re gonna steal my flirting technique,” Pete said. Hanging his head, he pulled the door open and held it for her. “Does your sister know she’s condemned me to having to fight half the town now?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that. In case you haven’t noticed, people aren’t banging down my door for my body or my cupcakes.”

  “People are stupider than I thought.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Jack said, sliding a salted caramel cupcake across the counter to him. “Let’s hope it’s something they’ll grow out of.”

  But the next day, the only customers she had were family, the three or four people in town who hadn’t read the Dispatch, and Jerry Jenkins.

  When Jerry w
alked in five minutes after the store opened, she braced herself for more accusations. “Hey, Jerry,” she said cautiously.

  He removed his ball cap and bent the bill between his hands. “I know Tabby’s been saying stuff about you around town and I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I didn’t tell her I’d talked to you, but sometimes I forget how smart she is and she musta figured it out.”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. But thank you.” She smiled at him and wondered how such a decent guy had ended up with someone like Tabitha.

  “I’ve got six yards to do today. Could ya get me a dozen, but box ’em up in twos?”

  “Are you starting a cupcakes-no-one-wants delivery service?” Jack asked.

  “Funny,” he said, chuckling. He scratched his balding head with the bill of his hat. “Just want to show people whose side I’m on.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s not right, them boycotting ya this way. I’d like to think you’d do the same if the situation was reversed.”

  “I would,” she said.

  “Good. Then how about those cupcakes?”

  ***

  Since his dad had shown up and doused him in self-doubt, Graham had been finding reasons to touch Jack—a hand on her back as she stared out the window trying to mentally force customers inside or an elbow grazing her arm as she walked by—anything that would magically tell him she was the one. But all he felt was the familiar longing that burned hot and steady in his gut.

  And with the shop still nearly empty, he couldn’t keep his mind from replaying the conversation with his dad to fill the silence. The sooner you accept it, the happier you’ll both be. He shook his head to dislodge the thought.

  Walking out front, he untied his apron, wadded it into a ball, and threw it on the worktable behind him. Specks of flour clung to his hands. He wiped them on his pants.

  Jack stood at the front counter, like she had been for hours, watching the barren sidewalk. Her shoulders slumped forward, her hands fisted on the countertop. Graham leaned in close, lips pressing against her ear. Her hair smelled like citrus and sugar and made his pulse spike. “I was thinking you and I should close up early. Take the afternoon off. Do something to take our minds off of everything,” he said.

  She sucked in a breath.

  He purposely kept his hands to himself despite how his fingers itched to grip her hips and pull her back against him. “C’mon, Jaclyn. Even without your ability, I can tell it’s what you want, too.”

  With her back still to him, she said, “I want a lot of things, Graham. And I’m not sure yet if I’m willing to risk one to get the other.”

  He backed up, giving them both just enough space to breathe. “Who says you can’t have both?”

  When Jack turned, her eyes were guarded. Their usual caramel color was dulled by the weight of uncertainty. She sighed and rubbed the base of her neck. She met his eyes and said, “Maybe I can. Maybe we can. I just think we need some time to be sure.”

  You mean you need to be sure I won’t run out on you. The words caught in his throat. He couldn’t blame her. Not when a part of him was worried about the same thing. He felt the rest of the room dim around him as he watched her. Her pupils, ringed in gold, dilated as her breath hitched. He caught her hand, tangling her long, slender fingers with his. He held their joined hands to his chest and said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She nodded, a small attempt to placate his fears.

  “Jack—” he started, only to be interrupted by the alarm dinging as someone walked in the front door.

  Graham blinked at the bright room as it came back into focus around him. Thalia paused halfway to the counter. She shot him a sassy smile and winked at him before Jack turned around, tugging her hand from his.

  “God, I’d love to know what this room smells like right about now,” Thalia said. She closed her eyes for a moment as if she could sense it by concentrating hard enough. After a moment, she laughed and looked at them. “I’m betting it’s intense, whatever it is.”

  “Cut it out, T,” Graham said. He kept his voice even, his face blank. But Jack had already moved a few feet away.

  “You know I’m just messing with you, right, Jack?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Jack said. Her cautious laugh lingered in the air.

  With one dark eyebrow cocked, Thalia leveled Graham with a don’t-get-so-worked-up-it-was-harmless look. “You got a minute, Graham?” She motioned toward the front door. Not waiting to see if he followed, she waved to Jack and walked back out.

  He tugged on the end of Jack’s ponytail and said, “We should’ve left when we had the chance. Next time I’m not giving you the option.” He released her hair, letting his fingers trail over her collarbone. Her skin seemed to warm under his touch. For now that would have to be enough of a sign for them both.

  The cool air outside slapped at him as he met Thalia on the sidewalk, where she bounced subtly from foot to foot.

  “A pushy little birdie told me that all hell’s breaking loose up here,” Thalia said. “I know it’s low, but I figured this might be my chance to convince you to pack it in.”

  “Yep, pretty low,” Graham said. His low chuckle died on his lips when he looked through the window and saw Jack turn her back on them.

  Her eyes narrowed in concern. “Is business really that bad?”

  When she reached out to touch his arm, he shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “It’s been better. But we’ll pull through. Just gotta get a few people on our side and the rest will come around on their own.”

  “It’s hard to come back from alienating your customer base, Graham. I know this is your town and they’re your people, but just because they like you doesn’t mean they’ll get over what Jack can do.”

  “Jack’s never done anything but give them all exactly what they want most. How is that a bad thing?” He couldn’t stop the resentment from staining his words.

  “Because she knows what they want most even if they never say it out loud.”

  “Believe me, if it actually worked like that, I wouldn’t have risked being around her for so many years.”

  Thalia shoved her windblown hair back behind her ears. Her mouth was pinched tight as she considered a response. After a few seconds she said, “Maybe she’s known all along and just kept you around so you’d keep making her cupcakes and to provide some nice eye candy. Ever think of that?” She slapped the back of her hand against his chest. It was more challenging than malicious.

  “Isn’t that why you want me?” Graham asked.

  “I don’t care how cute you are. It’s a plus, but it’s not a deal breaker. I want you because having you will allow me to expand my business and make people weep with joy at the brilliance of our food. And you want to stay with her because you want her. That’s just not good business sense,” Thalia said.

  Graham leaned back against the window and let the cool of the glass seep into his shirt. He couldn’t disagree with her. And if he didn’t enjoy the hell out of making cupcakes at all hours of the night and creating new flavors that made Jack weak in the knees, he might be tempted to take Thalia up on her offer. But he couldn’t imagine any job making him happier. He felt the dopey smile spread across his face and didn’t even try to stifle it.

  “The shop is my business regardless of what I feel for Jack. Don’t you think I want the same things for my shop that you want for yours? We built this place from nothing but an idea on a cocktail napkin and our shared love of cupcakes. I’m not going to give up just because it’s hard.”

  She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Are you willing to stake your career on it? Because it sounds like professional suicide to me.”

  “Jack and I can make it work.”

  “Oh, honey, I hope so. You’re too good at what you do to throw it all away, whether you believe it’s all for a girl or not.” She looked past him into the shop and shook her head. “I’ll stop asking you to come with me, but if you chang
e your mind—”

  “I won’t,” he interrupted. “But thanks.”

  fourteen

  The coffee shop had been full of light and noise. The customers held half-yelled conversations to be heard over the hiss and whine of the espresso machine and the rumble from the grinders. When Jack walked outside after delivering a dozen cupcakes, it was like someone had pressed mute. There were no cars on the roads, and the few people she saw kept their heads down to avoid the jumble of dark clouds amassing overhead.

  The air was humid. Her skin was sticky within seconds. The wind tugged at the empty delivery bag hanging from her wrist. Harper had painted the Crumbs logo on it. She caught flashes of teal as it flapped around.

  Jack looked up when someone called her name.

  Tom Berg waved to her from the other side of the street. He pivoted and jogged across to meet her. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He wiped it with the back of his hand. One drop rolled down his nose and dangled on the end like a faucet with a slow drip.

  “I’m glad I ran into you, Jaclyn. I’ve been meaning to drop by and see you.”

  “If you need another cupcake fix, I can hook you up,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to bring some by. But I did want to talk to you about something.” He met her eyes and quickly looked away. He cleared his throat and continued. “We’ve had a number of calls about our article on you.”

  Jack twisted the handles of the bag around her fingers. The canvas dug into her skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my sister was going to tell everyone,” she said.

  “If I thought it was such a big deal, I would’ve told you before we ran it. But I have to say I was pretty intrigued and it was just the type of hook that I’ve been looking for. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that most of them we’ve brushed under the rug, so to speak. But Melanie Bray’s called a couple times now.”

  “Of course she has. Lemme guess, she’s trying to convince you to not mention Crumbs in the Twilight article?”

 

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