by Dana Corbit
“Did you let the decorators know we were taking this class?” she asked as she watched him.
His wrist shifted, messing up his masterpiece, but he only looked over, amused. “No. Why? Did you tell them?”
“Not me. I figured that was up to you.”
“Oh. Thanks.” He started at the top again, tracing a smooth line of peaks and valleys. “I haven’t told anyone yet. Not my mom. Especially not my brothers. They would have a heyday with it.”
“If they’re not proud of you for being this proactive over your work with the bakery, then they’re wrong.”
She didn’t realize how forcefully she’d spoken until their instructor, who was moving about the room and giving suggestions, looked at her in surprise. She sensed that Logan was watching her, too, though she couldn’t bring herself to look at him to know for sure. How could she explain to him why she’d placed herself squarely in his corner when she didn’t know the answer herself?
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Can you believe there are only two more Saturdays, and we’ll have survived June madness?”
“That’s amazing,” she said, though she found she wasn’t looking forward to the end of June with as much enthusiasm as she had at first. It felt more like a deadline now than a goal.
For a few minutes, neither spoke as they focused on their practice sheets, but when Caroline glanced up, she caught Logan watching her work. At least she thought it was her work. Or was he just watching her?
“Doing a good job,” he said but quickly looked away.
“Hey, I have an idea,” she said to fill the awkward moment. “You could just keep quiet about this class until the week of Dylan and Jenna’s wedding, and then you could be the one to decorate their cake.”
He laughed out loud at that. “Pretty ambitious, don’t you think?”
“You could do it.”
As soon as she said it, Caroline realized how true her words were. Logan could do anything he wanted. That wasn’t something that had changed since she’d returned to Markston, either. He’d always been so much more than the funny guy everyone knew so well. Intelligent. Capable. Too intuitive for his own good. She’d just been like the others in failing to notice his many qualities.
“Maybe…but I’ll be too busy with all of my amazing best man duties to have time to use my delicious cake-decorating skills, as well.”
“Fine then. I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Thanks.”
When he grinned at her, she smiled back, but then he suddenly leaned toward her, his gaze connecting with hers, and she could only sit frozen, waiting. Was he really going to kiss her right there in front of a whole class of future cake decorators?
But Logan only brushed his thumb across her cheek, coming away with a clump of icing. She blinked as he pulled his hand back, leaving a tingling place at the side of her mouth where his callused skin had touched her.
“You had this,” he said, showing her the small glob in his palm.
“Oh” was all she could say though she sounded like an idiot. What had she been thinking, anyway? When she jumped to a wrong conclusion, she took a flying leap. But this was worse than that. More than mistaking his plan to kiss her, she’d wanted him to do it and had been disappointed when he hadn’t.
“Thank you,” she finally managed. “I remember on our family trip to Gatlinburg, Matthew and I had the job of scrubbing faces for you and Haley. Now that was a big job.”
“I guess I should thank you, then.”
Hearing annoyance in his voice, she slid a glance his way, but he was staring at the front of the class. Their instructor stood near the whiteboard, demonstrating another skill, using a smaller decorating tip.
“With practice, all of you will become skilled at making rosettes, and creating scalloped edges will be as automatic to you as driving,” the woman told them. “But it is also going to be equally important that you develop a steady hand for piping designs and for writing.”
Caroline followed the instructions, but she couldn’t help thinking of a different hand than those with which she worked. This particular hand was close enough to touch if she decided to stretch.
She straightened in her seat as she switched the tip on her pastry bag. What was happening to her? Could she really be developing feelings for Logan Warren? That couldn’t be possible, could it? What happened to him being too young, too unambitious…too everything?
Of course she didn’t have feelings for Logan. They were just friends. Anyway, did she have no more sense of self-preservation than to even consider becoming involved with a ladies’ man?
Caroline pushed away the thoughts that were getting out of hand. She’d gone from imagining that Logan wanted to kiss her to creating other ideas that were equally unfathomable. She could think of only one reason this might be happening. She hadn’t been kissed in so long that her romantic instincts had gone into a coma. They’d picked an unfortunate moment to awaken.
Now she had to sing those faulty instincts a lullaby before she did something really unwise like letting Logan know about the crazy things she was feeling. Or worse yet, asking him to kiss her.
Logan followed Caroline out the door and down the steps from the old bank that had been transformed into the Markston Community Education building. From around the corner, he could see the glow from the streetlamps that lined Washington Street.
“Hey, what’s the hurry?” he said when he caught up with her on the sidewalk that led to the lighted parking area.
“Oh…I wasn’t,” she began, but then she slowed her pace. “I was just thinking about getting home.”
“Did you forget that I drove?”
“Right.”
He was glad he’d insisted on driving this time and had brought his old Ford pickup that he usually only drove when it wasn’t motorcycle weather. Otherwise, Caroline already would have taken off like the rest of their classmates had.
She’d been acting strangely since he’d wiped the frosting off her face, so he wanted to get the chance to apologize. If she’d known that he’d really been considering kissing that frosting right off her cheek, she might have been relieved he’d only cleaned her up instead.
“Hey, sorry about that thing with the frosting. I just didn’t want you to be embarrassed later when you realized you had it on your face.”
“I appreciated you telling me.”
She looked across the parking lot to his truck as if she couldn’t wait to leave.
“Next week will be fun, don’t you think?” he said. “We’ll get to do the crumb coat and everything.”
She looked back at him, seeming to finally relax. “Mine will probably look like the rocky side of a mountain when I’m through with it.”
“Even ugly cakes taste good in my book.”
She’d started toward the truck again, but she glanced back at him. “Don’t ever let your mom hear you say that.”
“That wouldn’t go over too well, would it?”
Logan caught up with her as she reached the truck, but he found that he wasn’t ready to go home, or at least to take Caroline back to her mother’s house. He wasn’t prepared to analyze his hesitancy other than to say that she was his friend. He couldn’t go through his whole life without some of those.
He stared up at the sky, stalling. “It’s such a nice night. Do you want to take a walk downtown or something?”
Caroline put her hand on the truck door handle instead. “I really should be getting home.”
“Looking forward to more time on your mom’s sofa?” It wasn’t fair for him to push one of her hot buttons to get her to stay, but he couldn’t resist.
Her hand fell to her side as she turned to face him. “Well, when you put it that way.”
“Should I be offended by your lack of enthusiasm?”
Caroline shook her head. “I’m just a little tired. But you’re right. It’s a perfect night for a walk. Besides, if I go home earlier, I’ll just be trying sooner to get a turn in
the bathroom while Jenna’s in there applying another one of her invigorating face masks.”
“She does stuff like that?” He gestured for her to lead the way, but instead of following, he fell into step next to her. He tried to ignore the impulse to take her hand as they walked. Was that what he usually wanted to do when he was with his friends? Even really close friends?
“Remember Jenna? She’s the queen of shoppers and guinea pig for every new face cream or eye-popping mascara.” Caroline passed the first of the downtown shops, glancing in a store window filled with various styles of walking shoes.
“You don’t use a lot of that makeup stuff, do you?”
She chuckled but didn’t look back at him as they passed a second store. This one had antique and modern, digital cameras in the window. “As little as I can get by with.”
“You don’t need any at all.”
“You’re my friend. You have to say that.”
The truth was that as her friend he shouldn’t have noticed, so he was grateful she hadn’t taken him seriously. Or at least if she had, she’d played it off like a pro.
Farther up the street, they approached Markston Bridal, and she paused to look at the two mannequins, a bride in a froufrou wedding gown and a groom in a black tuxedo.
“Dylan and I are supposed to rent our monkey suits from here,” he said. “Are you and Jenna getting your getups here, too?”
“It is the only bridal shop in town,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the mannequin’s gown. “Remember last year when Haley had her gown and our bridesmaids’ dresses up for consignment sale here after the broken engagement?”
“But then Matthew made sure Haley and the rest of you made good use of them.” He watched her for several long seconds until she started fidgeting.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, still staring at the window.
“I was just wondering how you feel about being in the wedding.”
“You asked me that before. Remember, I told you I was worried they were rushing—”
“I mean how do you really feel about it with your being antimarriage and all?”
She did look up this time. “Where did you get the idea that I’m antimarriage?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe all those speeches you gave Haley about not needing a man in her life after that guy broke off their engagement. And your idea to have a ‘single-gal shower’ since there was no way you were going down any aisle.”
“How do you…”
When her words trailed off as she answered her own question, he grinned. “Remember, our moms talk. A lot.”
“How could I ever forget. But for the record, I’m not antimarriage. It just isn’t for everyone. For example, someone as career-focused as I am.”
“Wow. Some guy must have really done a number on you.”
Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. If looks could kill, that one would have at least left a mark. “Why is it that when people see a bachelor, they assume it’s by choice, and then any happily single woman must have been wronged by some man?”
Logan watched for a few seconds longer. Her unwillingness to look him in the eye was telling. “I’m not asking about all single women. Just you.”
Caroline did meet his gaze now, and the stark look in her eyes unnerved him.
“I was engaged once. In college.”
He swallowed. If she’d told him she’d made up the story about her company downsizing and that she’d been fired for incompetence, he wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“How is it that I don’t already know about this?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. Even my sisters.”
That she smiled at the memory made him uncomfortable. He had no claim on her, no right to be jealous of any man in her past or present, but he couldn’t deny that he was.
“What happened?” He couldn’t resist prodding when she didn’t say more. When had he ever been curious enough to know more than the basics about any woman?
“I’ll tell you that story someday when we both need a good laugh.”
He would have told her that he could use a laugh now, but he doubted it would get her to say more. He already knew how stubborn she could be. He should just be satisfied that she’d already shared more with him than she had with anyone, including her sisters.
“Well, Mr. Best Man, I’ve told you my deep, dark secret, so when are you going to tell me yours?”
“Tell you what?”
“Why you hate weddings.”
“I never—”
She started shaking her head before he could finish. “You said it yourself when Dylan asked you to be in the wedding. I believe you said, ‘You know how much I love weddings.’”
“You see. I never said I hate them.” He flashed one of his best smiles, one that would have worked on any woman except Caroline Scott. She just continued watching him, tapping her fingers on the display window.
“Fine. It’s not weddings I have a problem with. I just don’t have all that much faith in marriage as a long-term institution.”
Caroline seemed to consider what he’d said.
“I can see that your experiences might have led you to believe that,” she began. “Your dad deserted your family, forcing your mom to raise you and your brothers alone. Then Matthew’s first wife did the same thing, leaving him with Lizzie when she was just a baby.”
“A couple of good examples, don’t you think?” Logan tried not to look uncomfortable as she stated his personal history without so much as flinching. When had he lost the upper hand in this conversation, anyway? He’d done a good job of avoiding talking about his father for years, and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Maybe you do have some examples, but are you so cynical that you really believe that Matthew and Haley won’t make it even after Haley adopted Lizzie or that Dylan and Jenna don’t have a chance?”
“Jury’s still out on both couples,” he said.
“I think they’ll surprise you.”
Logan couldn’t help but smile over her confidence in their siblings’ futures. Who knew that there was a romantic hidden beneath her facade of cynicism? He’d discovered so many unexpected facets to Caroline over these past few weeks. Layers just begging for further study.
That secret engagement of hers was just one of those things. He wanted to know the whole story, whether either of them needed a laugh or not. Mostly he wanted to know why any man who’d been privileged enough to win Caroline’s heart would have been so foolish as to let her go.
Somehow though, he doubted that even that answer would be enough to satisfy his need to know everything about her. He watched as Caroline continued on ahead of him toward Markston’s only bookstore, A Good Read. When she turned back and caught him watching, a startled expression appeared on her face.
What was he doing? Did he need a reminder of who he was dealing with here? This was Caroline Scott, the only woman he knew who was more opposed to relationships and marriage than he was. Did he need to remember again just how different they were? She had all these big goals that made him think of high-rise buildings and expense accounts when his tastes were simple and his needs were few.
He was on dangerous ground, and he knew it. But it was more than just the possibility that he might be like his father and break someone’s heart. He was beginning to worry about his own heart, as well. No matter how much he tried to keep his distance, she drew him in like a moth to a flame. Like the moth, he might learn the hard way that if he came too close to the flame, he might get burned.
Chapter Nine
“You look like a million bucks today.” Trina hurried across the hospital room and bent in front of Amy’s wheelchair to kiss her cheek.
“After…taxes,” Amy answered into her hair.
Trina pulled back and gently gripped her friend’s upper arms, studying her face. She almost expected to see Amy’s mischievous smile as proof that this difficult time had all been a bad dream, but Amy still looked back at her with
out expression.
Though her heart squeezed with loss, Trina didn’t miss a beat. “Well, aren’t you just the comedienne?”
“I try.”
Stepping to the wall, Trina pulled a chair over to face the wheelchair where Amy sat for a portion of each morning and afternoon. She sat and took hold of Amy’s good hand. She refused to be disappointed. This was an amazing development. Amy had been joking with her. It was a sign that Amy’s sense of humor hadn’t been a casualty of her stroke as they’d first worried, and Trina couldn’t have felt more blessed.
“How many steps did you take today?” Trina repeated the same question she asked each day on her visits. They always discussed Amy’s health first before moving on to a discussion of the bakery.
Amy shook her head. “No. Want to talk…about the wedding.”
“Okay,” Trina said with a chuckle. “I should have known you would be more interested in how the wedding plans were coming.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Of course, but I want to know how you’re doing, too.” Trina patted her friend’s hand. “We want to make sure you’re in top form so you can be there.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I know you will, and I can’t wait.”
Trina filled her in on some of the wedding plans—the dress colors, the music and, of course, the cake. Amy leaned forward in her wheelchair, her eyes almost bright with interest. Her recovery had been coming in small steps, but the upcoming wedding had invigorated her spirit and maybe even her healing process.
“Really…going to happen.”
“The wedding?” Trina was grinning big enough for the both of them. “It sure took Jenna and Dylan long enough to get around to it, but in a few weeks we’ll have another married couple on our hands.”
“Matchmakers.”
“Amazing matchmakers.” Still holding Amy’s good hand, Trina reached out with her other hand and touched her friend’s weaker arm that lay curled against her robe.
“Caroline?”
“She’s still searching for that new job, but she’s doing okay. She hasn’t even complained about being the maid of honor, and she’s been a trooper, dealing with Jenna’s fussy planning.”