Baking From The Hart (Once Upon A Romance, book 10) (Once Upon A Romance Series)

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Baking From The Hart (Once Upon A Romance, book 10) (Once Upon A Romance Series) Page 10

by Laurie LeClair


  “Of what?” This guy didn’t make sense. Or was it the whiskey hitting hard?

  “Hey, you never did tell me what’s going on? Is it the gig at King’s?” He mastered the traffic as though it were child’s play.

  “Ah, didn’t your duties officially end once you stopped tending bar?”

  “Didn’t you know? They’re round the clock.” He flicked the blinker on and inched into the lane, waving to the guy behind the wheel of the truck who’d let him in. “I was all set to become a cop. Duty. Honor. The whole deal.”

  Eyeing him, Noah could see that. “What stopped you?”

  “Family.”

  That one word blasted through Noah. He shifted and sat upright.

  “Same thing that caused me to want to get into that line of work actually stopped me from going through with it.”

  It didn’t make sense to Noah. “Ever get tired of your family?”

  “Me?” He pressed a fist against his chest. “Never. I wish I could go back in time and relive a lot of the times when we were growing up.”

  Early on, Noah did recall some good moments—flickers of smiles and laughter. However, the later years returned with a vengeance. The accusations hurled at his father behind closed doors spilled to the dinner table and beyond. “Why’s that?”

  “Lost my dad.” He stopped, cleared his throat, and then carried on. “We were young. It was devastating, to say the least. Cancer got my mom after time. Miss them every damn day.”

  A beat of silence thrummed through Noah. Both of them? Gone? Just like that?

  “Jay raised us. We’re a team. Can’t break that bond. That’s why I think it’s so hard for Jay and Paige to set a wedding date. They don’t want to split us up—the brothers. Annabelle has a little boy. God, he’s the best! So we’re moving full steam ahead and getting married in less than a week. He deserves to have a dad. And I can’t wait to be one. Pretty cool, huh? Instant family. We’re figuring out the housing arrangements as we go.”

  Noah remained silent, taking it all in as Max pointed out landmarks and different neighborhoods.

  How could Max and Danny—the only two brothers he’d met—have such a happy outlook on life when they’d gone through such tragedy?

  It amazed Noah how much joy this guy had with the idea of forming a union with his fiancée and her son. Why risk getting hurt again? Why stick your neck out for more heartache than he’d already experienced?

  “Here we are.” Max rolled down the street and pulled over to the side of the road where cars and a truck littered the driveway. “Casa Whitfield.”

  “Your house?” When he’d been invited for dinner, Noah had no idea it was to Max’s place.

  “Gigi’s night to cook. That’s my mother-in-law once removed. Annabelle’s first husband’s mother. She comes with the package. I’m a lucky guy. And it’s a rare night for Jonathan to be home. What better place to be, right?”

  Noah’s heart sank. Maybe he could catch a cab back and forgo the family atmosphere? He got out of the vehicle and slammed his door shut.

  A little boy in a red cape flew out the house door. “Max! You’re finally here!”

  “Joey!” Max rushed to him, scooping him up in his arms and swinging him around. “Hey, buddy! I missed you.”

  Something hard lurched in Noah’s chest. Envy? What the hell?

  Chapter 14

  “Rico? He’s the answer to my prayers?” Gretchen sank down in one of the hard armchairs in the room cluttered with equipment—cables, cameras, lights, rack of clothes standing nearby, makeup area, changing booth. Her hopes died right along with her spirits.

  “Ew! Moi and a girl? As Peg would say, no way Jose!” The man brushed the back of his hand along his forehead. His white suit and gold accessories screamed style.

  “Come on, Rico. You’ve got to do this. Gretchen needs serious help here.” Danny nudged his friend toward her.

  “I’ll say. It’s all over the store. What in the world were you thinking talking to that woman?”

  “She came with the contest?” Gretchen cringed.

  He smacked her on her knee. Rico leaned away and then came forward, swooping in.

  Gretchen pulled back. “What did you see?” She pointed. “That look on your face.”

  “Cute style.” He fluffed up her hair. “Fab eyes!”

  “Thanks.” She frowned.

  “Not when you do that, girl. You scrunch up and not pretty.” He poked a finger at her waist and moved to her hip.

  “Hey, watch it there!”

  “Checking for excess, sweetie. You bakers can stash on extras. Huh, not you, go figure.”

  “All clear?” Danny peeked at his watch.

  “Do I pass muster?” Gretchen wondered what the man was thinking as he scrutinized her.

  “Yep.” He pointed and made a small circle. “It’s the mouth.”

  She pressed her hand to her lips, feeling. Slightly swollen. Yikes, could he tell she’d been kissing Noah?

  “Not them.” He tsked. “You must stop using it with the wrong people. Icksnay on the intervieway.” His eyebrows shot up. “Understand?”

  “You’ve got to get her camera-ready, Rico.” Danny pulled up two chairs and directed Rico to sit. He plopped down in his. “Begin.”

  Jerking back, he eyed Danny. “Like, when did you get so bossy?”

  “Five minutes ago.”

  That made them all laugh. Gretchen released a pent-up breath. “Help? Please.”

  Rico threw up his hands. “Well, if anyone ever needed a miracle worker, it’s you.”

  “Geez, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, don’t make those faces. Girl, don’t let the camera see what you’re thinking. Danny, can you grab that hand mirror on the makeup table over there?”

  “Sure, buddy. Coming right up.” He shot up and raced over, coming back in record time.

  Minutes later, Rico coached her.

  “Do I have to look at myself when I’m doing this?” Gretchen couldn’t even smile at her own reflection. Pale. Check. Smudges under your eyes. Check. Lips red. Check. She groaned inwardly. Could they tell? Noah was here! She traced under her bottom lip, wishing to capture those heady moments.

  Fingers snapped in front of her. “Earth to Gretchen! Speak.”

  “About?”

  “Anything.”

  She gulped hard and forced a smile. Her cheek quivered. “That does not look attractive.” Why hadn’t see realized that before now?

  “Word.” Rico snorted. He sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “T-A-L-K.”

  “Like we’re your audience,” Danny coaxed.

  “I…I’m Gretchen. Hart. I bake. I…”

  “Why me?” Rico sighed heavily.

  “What’s fun about baking?” Again, Danny to the rescue.

  “Seriously?” She ignored the mirror and focused on her friend. “I get to put pinches of this and dashes of that together to whip up incredible delights. And I share them with people. What isn’t great about that?”

  “OMG! You glow!” Rico leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “That’s what you bottle up and present to the world. Not to a gazillion people. You zero in on one person and let it fly, girl! Pretend you’re talking to your friend.”

  “But I am.”

  “Not here, silly. Out there, when the cameras are rolling. Do not think about anything else but sharing your treats—the sweet kind, of course—with your dearest bestie. Can you do that for Uncle Rico?”

  “I’ll try.”

  But could she? By the looks the two guys exchanged, it seemed as if they had their own doubts about her success.

  Letting her family down was not an option. They counted on her calm, self-assured manner to see them through this rough patch. They relied on her steady strength.

  However, something else burned in her now. Big, bright, and growing. Determination to not let herself down this time took root.

  Gazing at her reflection again, Gretchen vowed fo
r every time she longed for her late mother to be there, for every obstacle she had to endure, for every slight growing up, for every mean word her nasty stepmother and her aunt said about her baking, she’d do this.

  She, Gretchen Hart, would pull out this win. Do or die.

  Preferably the first and not the last!

  ***

  “Thanks for the ride, Gretch.” Danny reached for the door handle. “Sure you won’t come in?”

  “I should practice my faces. Or is it non-faces?” The return of the van—finally fixed and paid for with some money and a promise of a superduper cupcake order for the mechanic’s family reunion by the end of the week—made small things like dropping off friends a breeze.

  “It’s the least I can do for your coming all the way out here. Look, everyone’s here except Jay and Paige. Pre-mini-moon or something.” He shrugged. “Do a guy a favor and have dinner with us.”

  Her stomach growled.

  He laughed and pointed at it. “See, the tiger has spoken.”

  “I can’t stay long. Harrison’s working on another project, so I need to get back and watch Lola.”

  “Shucks! We could’ve picked her up and brought her over.”

  “Now look who wants to practice. Babysitting skills, right? You’ll be an uncle soon enough, my friend.” She shoved the gear into park and switched off the engine.

  “Can’t wait. I’m Max’s best man. I got my tux yesterday. Pretty sharp, if I do say so myself.”

  Gretchen joined him on the curb, hooking arms with him, and then walked with him up the sidewalk. “Now I can’t wait to see all of you spiffed up.”

  “This weekend will be here before you know it.”

  She stumbled. “This? With the contest, I completely forgot the date.” The cupcake order! That combined with the pressure of the contest recipes, keeping her bakery fully stocked, her special orders, and Max and Annabelle’s wedding cake, she wouldn’t have a moment’s rest in the next few days. Her body sagged just thinking about all the work. “Oh, man, I need a clone or a dozen.”

  “You always got me to pitch in. You know, I’ll keep you organized.”

  “And on the straight and narrow.”

  He grinned, opened the front door, and then ushered her in. “Home sweet home.” He called out, “Yo, guys!”

  “In the kitchen, Danny boy!” Max’s voice rang out. “Where else would we be?”

  “That way, Gretch. Follow the yummy. Smells like spaghetti.” He rubbed his hands together. “Got company…”

  She went first and rounded the corner. A half-dozen people surrounded the big island. Their happy chatter halted in mid-stream. Gretchen’s gaze bounced off everyone and landed on none other than Noah Blackstock. Her heart tripped over itself at the beautiful green-eyed stare that sent a riot of heat and fireworks going off inside her. Can’t a girl ever catch a break?

  ***

  “Don’t go, Gretchen.” Noah’s words were both agony and ecstasy.

  “No, seriously. I hate crashing parties. And I’m a contestant. Conflicts and all.” She backed up a few more steps. When was the proper time to turn tail and run? At the threshold between the dining room and kitchen? At the front door? Now?

  “We won’t tell,” Danny and Max said in unison.

  “It’s not like you’re baking or anything.” Annabelle came around the island and confronted her. “Plus, after dinner would be the perfect time to talk wedding cakes. When else do Max and I and you have the time?”

  Gretchen’s cheek quivered as she forced a smile. Down, girl, down! Now that she knew what it looked like up close and personal, she didn’t want to infringe that on anyone. She gritted her teeth. “Not sure about this.” Wait, don’t frighten the child with that look!

  “Pretty please, Miss Gretchen?” Joey’s wide eyes and beseeching look tore right through her.

  She shrugged. “Why not?” In for a penny, in for a pound.

  However, something deep inside told her she’d regret accepting the invitation as she tried to pull away her gaze from the magnetic tug of Noah’s. Groan!

  ***

  God, she was here, sitting mere inches away. Her elbow brushed Noah’s arm. His pulse picked up speed.

  “Sorry,” Gretchen muttered under her breath. To the rest of the people at the table, she said, “This is the best lasagna I have ever tasted. Gigi, this is fantastic!”

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s nothing really. I just threw it together.” She gushed. “I’ve got nothing on your cakes.”

  “I can’t cook.”

  “Not a thing?” Noah shook his head. “But you bake.”

  “The best cinnamon rolls, too. Right, Max?” Danny nudged his brother’s arm.

  “And how. Let’s see…” Max ticked off items on his fingers. “Danish. Every cookie you can think of. Oh, brownies. Cheesecake—”

  “Don’t forget that peanut butter cake she made special for me,” Joey piped up.

  The brothers, Annabelle, and Gigi moaned. “High-five me for that one, champ.”

  “Not even a scrambled egg?” Jonathan, observing until now, frowned. “Even I can do that. Not too slimy, either.”

  “Burn. Every time.” Gretchen winced.

  “You are bad.”

  She chuckled. “You should have seen us growing up. Harrison and I were so bony and skinny. Neither one of us could cook. Our aunt’s cooking came in two varieties: undercooked mush or crispy mystery. Not too many people can ruin cereal and toast. Every time.” She shuddered. “I took up baking as a defense mechanism. Sugar counterbalances that burnt taste. At least I could measure and stir.”

  A band tightened around his chest; he could barely take a breath. The things she must have gone through!

  “Something good came out of it, though.” Her gaze flickered around to the quiet little family and then sought out his.

  Her ocean-blue eyes searched and questioned his.

  His heart squeezed for her and her brother. He recalled Harrison in college—scholarship kid, who excelled at soccer—reed-thin and wolfing down cafeteria food on the meal plan. The guy had entered every eating contest on campus. No wonder!

  By the sound of it, she glossed over some pretty tough times. And he thought he’d had it bad with his parents’ ugly divorce. At least he had decent food; his family hired only the best.

  “So… Once again, I stopped all conversation. And not in a good way. Way to go, me!”

  Joey giggled. “You’re funny.”

  “Thanks, pal!”

  “What do you do now, man?” Jonathan’s curiosity beamed bright as he stared at her with a puzzled look.

  “Fruit and veggies. Harrison’s got a few things down. Soup from a can. Sandwiches. Frozen dinners. And there’s always take-out. Believe me, we’re not starving.” But the muscle in her cheek quivered. A sure sign of her nervousness. God, she was so adorable!

  “What about you, Noah?” The medical student turned to him.

  “Slightly better. And there’s always Blackstock wine to wash it all down.”

  That got a hearty chuckle, easing the tense air.

  “Thankfully Jay opened a bar and grill. The brothers and I get our fair share of food from there now.”

  “I like the rolly poly cheese things,” Danny said and then moaned along with his brothers and Joey.

  “We’ve got me, too, now, fellas.” Gigi grinned. “I feel like a frat house mom sometimes.”

  “Jockstraps included,” Annabelle chimed in with a giggle.

  “Hey, you wound me.” Max touched his chest. “You do want me to be able to father your babies, don’t you?”

  Leaning over, she dropped a kiss on his cheek. “With my luck, we’ll have all boys.”

  “More testosterone, here we come. Though, I do have a soft spot for little Lola, so a girl would be nice to have.”

  “Bring her by next time, Gretchen, then the guys can get all goofy and teary-eyed and know what they’re missing.”

  “I may take you up
on that, Annabelle.”

  “You want kids?” Again Jonathan asked; it seemed directed at both of them at the same time.

  “I have two nephews.” Noah skipped over the answer with a dodge. Did he want kids? His sisters were hell-bent on him producing the required male Blackstock heir to pass the torch. First, he’d have to endure the marriage trap. Not something he longed for.

  “At least four.” Gretchen’s cheeks turned pink.

  Four?! Shock raced through his veins. He couldn’t imagine one, never mind multiples.

  “Two boys and two girls. That’s my twelve-year plan. First, I’ll help raise Lola. Once she’s in pre-school or kindergarten, I’ll have less daily responsibilities and then can focus on my personal life. In the meantime…” She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “Well, it looks like I’ll have to give up the bakery—”

  “What?” Noah asked as did several others. Shock coursed through him.

  “Yep.” She ran her fingers down her water glass. “You know, those silly expenses, like rent and utilities. The increases will eat up a lot. No pun intended.”

  “But you can’t, Gretch!” Danny sat forward. “Where are Max and I going to stop for cinnamon rolls every morning on our way to King’s? And order our favorite birthday cakes? And see you?”

  “I can still make them for you. Maybe I can pick up a job at another bakery or in one of those grocery store bakeries. That certificate of a pastry degree pinned on my office wall should amount to more than just a piece of paper, right? I could qualify for something. If not, I’ll make the cakes from home.”

  “But that’s your dream.” Noah’s concern had her turning moisture-filled eyes his way. He ached for her pain written there.

  “That’s the way the cookie crumbles, isn’t that what they say?” She sucked in a breath. “No worries. I’ll figure it out. I always do. Never mind me…” Gretchen drew a hand across the back of her neck and shrugged.

  “That’s why you entered the contest.” It didn’t take a genius to guess.

  She stiffened, folding her arms across her chest. “Harrison says there’s always less expensive towns to live in…”

 

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