Seth opened the driver’s door and sat down, then started the engine. Keyless. Of course. Gwen’s car didn’t even have automatic locks or windows, but she was proud of Marge. Every dented and rusted inch of her. Gwen had paid for the car herself after her parents had confiscated the Audi they’d given her. Perhaps they thought they were teaching her a lesson, and that would somehow convince her to return to college and her drunk roommates. But no one should ever underestimate the power of Marge . . . or overestimate her. Which was why Gwen was sitting next to Seth right now in his million-dollar Mercedes.
She knew it didn’t cost a million dollars, but she had to admit, she felt different sitting in such a nice car. It was as if there was no road at all, that they were literally flying through the air.
Seth was quiet on the drive, which, surprisingly wasn’t awkward. She glanced over at him a couple of times to gauge his expression, but he stayed focused on the road. Gwen found herself scanning the line of his shoulders, that led to the definition of the muscles in his arms. They weren’t bulky, but they exuded strength. And then she noticed the way his right hand wrapped around the steering wheel, and how his hands seemed like capable hands. Look away, Gwen.
Seth turned off the main canyon road and started up an incline. Gwen hadn’t noticed this turn-off before, but she wasn’t usually driving above the lodge. Seth was right, the hill was steep, and by the looks of how far they were driving, she would have had quite the hike to his parents’ house.
Then, a sudden thought occurred to her. “Do you live with your parents?” Perhaps she shouldn’t have blurted it out, because Seth actually flinched.
Then his shoulders and arms relaxed again. “I do.”
That was it? No explanation? She didn’t know what she’d expected, but wasn’t it hard for a frat boy to, er, entertain his lady friends in the same house he lived in with his parents? Not that she was thinking of him bringing back other women to the monstrosity that seemed to rise out of the mountain slope before her.
Gwen couldn’t stop the words that escaped from her mouth. “Oh. My. Gosh. This is your parents’ place?” She’d seen it in a magazine once but hadn’t realized the sheer size and magnificence until she viewed it at midnight glowing with lights on the multi-story decks. It was the most gorgeous cabin Gwen had ever seen. The place was like a fairytale castle set in the woods, but with giant wooden beams, and pine trees, and knotty pine double-doors.
“Wow. Just wow. This is an architect’s dream on steroids.” Gwen gushed. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Seth chuckled. “I think you’ve already said it.”
Gwen ignored him. Her gaze was glued to the mansion, and she turned her head to look up through the window as Seth pulled up closer. He stopped the car in the circular drive made of cobblestones. That alone took her breath away. Okay, so her parents were well off, but this was another level entirely. Like ten more levels up, or a hundred.
“It’s amazing,” she said. “Amazing! Is that bear—” She clapped her hand over her mouth.
Seth waited, settled back in his seat, probably laughing again at her. Well, she was giving him quite the show.
The grizzly bear standing on its hind quarters next to the entrance was fake—it had to be. It might have once been alive, but now it was dead. And stuffed. But still kind of scary. “Seth,” she said, turning to him and grabbing his arm. “I’m sorry for implying that you are any less of a man because you live with your parents. Because if this was my parents’ house, I might still be living with them too. Or at least talking to them.”
This time Seth did laugh. But it didn’t bother Gwen. She was gazing back at the house. “I’ve no doubt that your parents have at least two ovens.” Then she bit her lip. “Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?”
“I’m sure,” he said with another chuckle. He opened his door and climbed out, and that’s when Gwen realized she’d still been holding his arm. With him out of the car, she had to snap out of whatever spell she was under. Make cupcakes. Go to the homeless shelter tomorrow and try to reconcile the living conditions of what she saw before her now with those she’d be feeding tomorrow. Could anything be more juxtaposed?
How did people really live this way? They must be super-human, or something. But Seth had been acting so . . . normal tonight.
Her door opened, and Seth stood there, looking down at her, that crooked smile on his face. “You can check it out, you know.” He held out his hand.
She swallowed because she was suddenly second-guessing this making-cupcakes-from-scratch-with-Seth-Owens thing. Then she thought of her homeless friends: Jerry, Ricky, Bo, Maddy, Silv, Declan . . . Gwen put her hand into Seth’s and let him pull her to her feet. She let go as quickly as possible, telling herself for the umpteenth time that he was only being a gentleman.
Then she took a deep breath and followed him into Wonderland.
Seth placed the box of ingredients on the large granite counter, then moved to the double ovens. He set the temperature on both to preheat. Even though he’d told Gwen they should get the first batches of cupcakes into the oven, and then he’d give her the grand tour, he hadn’t seen her since he’d pointed her in the direction of the bathroom while they were carrying in everything.
Well, women could take a while in bathrooms, so he really shouldn’t worry. But as he gathered mixing bowls and measuring cups and spoons and set them out on the counter, he began to wonder. Maybe she was sick? She hadn’t acted sick, though. She’d been distressed, yes, but he thought they’d come up with a pretty great solution.
And it had only taken one small lie. His parents would not be okay with him bringing home a woman to their house for an all-night bake fest. In fact, his mom was still holding out hope that he and Cynthia would get back together, even though it had been a full year since their breakup. Their families were close friends and business associates, and both sets of parents had been more than thrilled when he and Cynthia had started dating their senior year in high school.
Seth had always liked Cynthia, perhaps even loved her, but he’d never really felt she was his one and only—as far as love legends went. Not that he was an expert by any means, or expected some sort of fantastic happily-ever-after; but he supposed he’d given into the family expectations for Cynthia and him. His parents had what he considered a good marriage, yet marriage was tough. Families were tough. Seth’s older sister Emmy had gone through a divorce and was now in a great relationship with a new guy. But things were really complicated in her life as she dealt with custody issues with her ex-husband and their four-year-old son.
It might not be such a coincidence that Seth had called off his relationship with Cynthia during the same time Emmy had filed for divorce. He and his sister had had many late-night heart-to-hearts that he’d never told his parents about. But it had changed his whole way of seeing relationships. And he knew from that moment on that he was fooling himself into believing he could keep things up with Cynthia.
His sister’s famous words were something like, “I knew things weren’t right with Marc when I realized that every time he walked into a room, I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I didn’t want to hear about his day. I simply stopped caring about his well-being. I know it sounds harsh, but we’d spent our whole marriage focusing on things about him. His career, where he wanted to eat, whether he was in the mood for intimacy, or if he felt like going on vacation or staying home. One day, I realized I was living his life. And I wanted to live our life.”
His sister had suggested marriage counseling with her husband, but Marc had refused. And now . . . Seth was happy for Emmy and her new relationship with Jed. Seth could see the difference in his sister when they’d come out for Memorial Day weekend. She was happy and at peace. Life was still hard, but she had someone to fully share it with.
“Did you know there’s a waterfall in that bathroom?” Gwen said, coming around the corner and into the kitchen.
Seth had b
een so involved in his memories and sifting the flour with baking powder that he hadn’t even heard her footsteps. He looked up to see that Gwen had that star-struck expression as if she’d met someone famous.
“Of course you know there’s a waterfall, you live here.” Her voice trailed off as her brows drew together and created that small vertical line on her forehead. Seth wondered if she knew about that line.
“Look at you,” Gwen continued.
Well, her quiet streak in the car was clearly over.
“You’re like . . .” She tilted her head as if she was trying to come up with something nice to say as opposed to her usual jabs. “I’m not sure what you are, but how did I not know that you can cook?”
Then she blushed, and Seth wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Technically, it’s called baking,” he said.
Gwen stared at him, and he decided he liked her close scrutiny. He was so used to her trying to avoid him, that this was a nice change. “What kind of flavored extract should we use?”
“Flavored extract?” There was that line again between her brows. “Do you mean vanilla?”
He pointed to the container of extracts he’d brought along. “There’s lemon, mint, almond—”
“Like those gourmet cupcakes at specialty shops?” She walked to the counter on the opposite side of him and pulled the container toward her. “I don’t think the Main Street Café even gets this fancy.” She picked up a couple of the extracts and read the labels. “Are you serious about this? I was thinking vanilla cupcakes with frosting and sprinkles, and we’d be good to go.”
“With flags.”
Her mouth lifted into a smile. “With flags.”
Seth loved the way her blue eyes sparkled, and how they were more blue than gray right now. He wondered what she’d say if he mentioned it. He should probably keep it to himself.
“Let’s try lemon for one batch.” She picked up the bottle and walked to where he’d finished sifting the dry ingredients together. “What are you doing with the eggs?”
Seth looked to where he’d set the eggs in a pan of warm water to take off the chill. “The cupcakes will rise better and be more moist if the eggs are warm when we mix the dry ingredients with the wet.”
“Hmm.” Gwen set the lemon extract on the counter, then folded her arms. “What’s going on here?”
Seth arched his brows. “What do you mean?” He knew what she was getting at, but he was going to make her work for the information. It wasn’t like she ever let him off easy.
He started to unpeel the butter squares, not looking at her.
“Seth.” Gwen put her hand on his arm, stopping his movements. “Do you have a secret life?”
He laughed, but Gwen kept staring at him, her blue eyes intense. “Here,” he said, handing her a square of butter to unwrap. “The butter’s easier to unwrap when it’s cold.”
She released his arm and took the butter. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me how you are suddenly Mr. Chef when all you do at the restaurant is arrange everyone’s schedules and tally up the receipts at night.”
Seth wanted to laugh again. “I do a little more than that.”
“Right.” Gwen set the unwrapped butter into one of the mixing bowls. Not Seth’s preferred place, but he’d let it go for now. “And you calm down irate women who were overcharged for their already discounted wine.”
“Yep.” He reached for the pot of warm water and took out two eggs. He held them out to her and said, “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Sure.” She took the eggs and cracked them against the batter bowl that he slid over to her. Then he picked up the bowl and set it in place on the Mixmaster. He turned it on, and once the eggs were whisked he added the sugar and one of the butter squares.
“You didn’t even measure the sugar,” Gwen said, coming over to the mixer and peering inside. Her shoulder brushed against his arm as she leaned in to look. When she straightened, they were standing so close they almost touched.
Seth didn’t move, and when the realization dawned in Gwen’s eyes, she stepped away.
“The amount of sugar doesn’t need to be exact,” he said. “Just salt.”
“I know about salt,” Gwen said. “Too little, not enough taste. Too much, too salty. But you . . .”
His gaze connected with hers, and he was pleased with what he saw. She didn’t have that guarded look she usually had around him. Maybe it was being at the house instead of at work?
He snatched the bowl of dry ingredients and slowly added the contents to the mixing bowl. He loved watching how everything blended with each rotation of the electric beaters. “Time for the lemon extract,” he said as he turned the speed down.
She grabbed the extract. “How much?”
“Maybe ten or twelve drops.”
So Gwen added the extract, and the scent of lemon wafted up from the batter as it spun around. “Mmm. Smells good.” She closed her eyes and inhaled.
He couldn’t help but smile when he watched her. “Smells like you.”
Gwen’s eyes flew open. “I smell good?”
“You smell like lemons,” he said.
Gwen smiled back. “You’re not who I thought you were, Seth Owens.”
He turned off the mixer, since he didn’t want to overmix. That would be almost worse than undermixing. “Who did you think I was?” He threw an arched glance in her direction before he pulled out a stack of muffin tins. There were four of them, and that would be a good number to rotate through the different batches.
Gwen followed him to the counter, and they started slipping the cupcake liners into each opening of the muffin tins. “Well, you’re one of those frat boys. You know, a guy who comes from wealth and privilege, gets a high-paying job handed to them, takes out a different girl every weekend, coasts through life with the biggest stress of the week being whether to choose the lobster or the top sirloin at whichever $1,000-a-plate benefit you’re attending.”
Seth set down the cupcake holders and braced his hands on the counter.
She paused and turned toward him. “Too much?”
He could respond in several ways. Nothing she said he hadn’t heard before. It was the battle of the classes. And basically it was true . . . but there was a lot she was missing. He didn’t really feel like giving a rundown of how much his parents contributed to things like clean water in fourth world countries, and the endless hours his mom put into humanitarian work. No, this wasn’t really about his upbringing. He had no say in that for the most part.
“Do you know why I live with my parents?” he asked.
“Um . . . because this place is freaking gorgeous?”
If there was one thing about Gwen, it was that she spoke her mind. Even when her words stung. And to be honest, Seth liked that about her. Cynthia was more of the passive-aggressive type—and he was never sure whether she was upset about something or truly enjoyed something.
“The first reason is that my parents are gone a lot, probably about twenty days out of the month, so I’m mostly a house sitter.” He picked up the mixing bowl of batter and methodically poured it into the cupcake liners. “The second reason is that I needed to move someplace rather quickly after a breakup with my girlfriend. My parents had just finished building this cabin, so I thought I’d check out Pine Valley. I liked it enough to talk my dad into selling me the restaurant. So, the third reason I’m currently living with my parents is that I’m trying to pay off the business loan I took out to buy the restaurant.”
Gwen was so silent that Seth looked up.
Her cheeks were pink, but he didn’t know if that was from the heated ovens only a few feet away, or because he’d been a little too direct.
She opened her mouth, then shut it. Then opened it again. “Okay. So I think I owe you an apology. For a lot of things.”
Hmmm. He could live with that. He picked up one of the muffin tins, crossed to the first oven, and slid the tin inside. Then he set the timer. He turned
back to grab the second tin, but Gwen was on her way with it to the second oven.
“Fourteen minutes?” she asked, having seen him set the timer on the first oven.
“Fourteen to start,” Seth answered. “It might be a little longer. First batches always take longer.”
“Of course they do.” Gwen turned to add cupcake liners to the next set of muffin tins.
“Ready for the tour?” Seth asked.
She glanced at him, and that line between her brows was back. “Look, um, that’s really sweet of you. In fact, this whole thing is amazing, and I’m grateful. But I’m going to pay you back for all these ingredients, and I’d like to compensate you for your time. Because obviously you’re like some sort of mysterious master chef—”
“Gwen,” Seth cut her off. “You’re not paying me for helping you, and as the owner of the restaurant, I’m not going to charge you for a little flour and sugar. Come on. Let’s go see the house. We’ve got . . . thirteen and a half minutes.”
She hesitated, and he started to walk out of the kitchen, motioning for her to follow.
“You don’t want to miss seeing the pool deck at night with millions of stars glittering overhead.” He took a few more steps. “Not to mention the greenhouse full of lemon trees.”
The line of her shoulders relaxed just slightly. “You have lemon trees?”
“If any were ripe, we could add lemon zest to the frosting.”
Gwen glanced over at the ovens that were counting down the time. “Okay, but really quick. I don’t want your head getting too big over how much I love everything about this house.”
Seth chuckled, and he led the way to the back door that opened onto a massive wooden deck. A cooling breeze had picked up, and it felt nice to be outside. He flipped on the outdoor lights, and the backyard illuminated in an ethereal glow.
“Wow.” Gwen brought her hands to her heart. “I feel like I’m standing in a painting.”
Seth stood back as she walked around the deck, commenting on everything from the elegant wrought-iron deck chairs to the planters overstuffed with flowers and greenery. He agreed that the place was beautiful, but seeing it through Gwen’s eyes brought on a new appreciation as she noticed details he hadn’t paid attention to before.
Waiting for You_Pine Valley Page 3