Cinnamon and Sunshine

by Hollie Westring

  Ivy started chuckling while I opened and closed my mouth, speechless. Seeing myself splashed across one of the blogs I frequented again really didn’t feel so good.

  “If they think you’re a freak, imagine what they’d think if they knew your witch of a friend was married to a former ghost,” Ivy cackled.

  “That doesn’t really make me feel better,” I halfheartedly complained, texting Erin to thank her.

  “Hey, if you’re into Cruz, which is so sickeningly obvious, even to me, you’re going to have to get used to that kind of stuff,” Ivy warned, going back to work.

  “You’re right,” I said, taking a deep breath and deleting the Internet browser from my phone. Well, I tried to. The darn thing was too complicated, but I moved it onto a different screen so I didn’t have to see it and wouldn’t be tempted to click it to check if any other stories about Cruz and me were out there. “But it doesn’t really matter. Cruz is leaving in less than twenty-four hours. Our time is about up.”

  “Stop being so depressing,” Ivy complained.

  I knew going in what I was signing up for, and it was my own fault that I’d gotten caught up in Cruz the last few weeks. “But the time I spent with Cruz was worth it.” I forced a smile on my face.

  “That’s the spirit,” Ivy said, chuckling. “Get it? Spirit?”

  “Yes, I get it,” I replied, rolling my eyes good-naturedly.

  “So, how does it feel to be in love with a man who doesn’t know you can’t leave town?”

  “Do we have to talk about this now?” I whined.

  “You’re going to have to tell Cruz, you know,” Ivy reasoned, packing another box with candles.

  I sighed and shook my head.

  Ivy made a face. “Why not?”

  “I wouldn’t ever make someone choose between their career and me.”

  Ivy let out a disappointed groan. “Whatever. It’s your funeral.” She looked at me and must have seen something on my face that caused her to ease up. “I’ll bring over the ice cream once he’s gone.” She lifted the corner of her mouth before getting back to work packing boxes.

  CHAPTER 20

  “You ready for your last night of shooting?” I asked Cruz when he stopped by my house.

  “Yeah, it’s only going to be a few hours of work,” he said with a shrug. “Just have to get a couple of shots in the dark, and then it’s a wrap.”

  I gulped, knowing time was limited. “Wow, the last few weeks sure have gone by fast.”

  Cruz studied the trees in my backyard and nodded slowly. “You’re telling me,” he mumbled.

  “So, what do you want to do your last night in Sage Springs?” I asked, forcing a happy tone into my voice. The last thing Cruz needed to see was me crying. Those weren’t the kind of memories I wanted him to leave with.

  “Oh, I’ve got an idea or two,” he replied, turning to me with a devilish grin.

  “Psh.” I tugged at a strand of my hair and avoided his eyes as my cheeks reddened. “Everyone wants to meet up at the inn later on. Kind of a goodbye type of thing.” I lifted a shoulder to show it wasn’t a big deal. “But if you have plans with the cast or something, it’s totally—”

  “No.” Cruz tugged at my hand, drawing me in. “Spending the evening with you and the others sounds excellent.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, looking up at him with a slow smile.

  “Yeah.”

  “How about a meal before you get back to the set?” I plied, leading him into the house. I’d already planned it out and had a pot roast, carrots, onions, and potatoes simmering in the oven all day.

  “It smells heavenly,” Cruz moaned, walking faster into the kitchen and taking the lid off the pot. “I didn’t know food could smell so good.”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, I’ll stay for supper,’” I giggled, setting the table. “When do you need to be back?”

  “In about an hour and a half. Plenty of time to eat,” he replied, head over the stove, eyes closed, and probably enjoying the smell a little too much, based on his expression of bliss.

  After we filled our plates and sat down, Cruz reached across the table and squeezed my left hand. He didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes said it all—he was going to miss me. I smiled sadly.

  “Let’s dig in before it gets cold,” I said, trying to keep the mood upbeat. “After all, I had to throw this in the pot this morning and let it cook by itself all day. Talk about hard work.”

  Cruz released my hand and chuckled, biting into a slice of potato. “If this is the product of you not even trying, I think you were born with an unfair advantage over other cooks.”

  I winked at him and dove into my own food, content with the moment. I’d make it worth remembering, just like I had during the rest of Cruz’s visit.

  After eating a peanut butter pie for dessert—seriously, I got one slice and he downed the rest—the mood turned somber.

  “Listen, Lexi, about the last few weeks. I wanted—”

  I stopped bagging up the leftovers and turned to him. “Cruz, let’s not go down that road, okay?” I requested, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat.

  Cruz leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, studying me. “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “We both knew going in that this wasn’t a permanent thing. I mean, come on. Let’s be real here,” I offered, letting out a sad excuse for a laugh at Cruz’s confused expression. “You and me,” I pointed at each of us, “are in different time zones of life.”

  “What does that mean?” Cruz stood straight now, arms still crossed as his green eyes narrowed.

  “Exactly what you think it means,” I replied. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m a big girl. I knew our time spent together was temporary. It was fun.” I paused, remembering the last few days. “Okay, more than fun. It’s been fabulous, but that’s what you do, right? You’re used to having a good time with a woman for a short period of time and moving on. I was well aware when I agreed to the initial date, and I was even more aware when we—”

  “Stop,” Cruz said, placing his hands in his pockets. “Just stop. You can’t speak for me. You have no idea what you’re saying.”

  “I think I do,” I huffed, placing a hand on my hip. “You feel responsible for my feelings now that you’re leaving. You think I can’t handle being friends after all this, but you’re wrong. We can. You think I’m going to beg you to stay. You think I want a long-term relationship and that this was a means to an end. You think you messed up by dating me. And you’re probably going to say you’re sorry now, aren’t you?” I pointed an accusatory finger at him as I finished the list of pent-up insecurities that gushed from my mouth. “Don’t you dare say it.”

  “That’s not—” Cruz was interrupted by his phone chiming. He glanced at the clock on the microwave and growled. “Christ.” He pulled the ringing phone from his pocket, punched a button to put it on silent, and tossed it on the counter. Then he stalked toward me, pinning me against the stove. His eyes danced with emerald flames. “What I was trying to say is that I wish I didn’t have to go.”

  “What?” I stammered, my gaze searching his to confirm what he’d said.

  “The last few weeks have been the best I’ve had in … well, ever, and you played a huge part in that.” He reached for me and held me tight. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered.

  “I’m going to miss you too,” I muttered, surprised by his announcement. But then I thought of all the headlines and photos I’d seen of Cruz the last few months. I couldn’t compete with what the world offered. I was a small-town girl who ran an online baking business and was tethered to a magical spring. “But there will be plenty of other women out there vying for your attention.”

  “Those girls aren’t you,” Cruz countered, pulling me back a fraction so he could peer into my face to punctuate his point. “I wish we could make this work, Lex.”

  “Long-distance relationships are doomed from the get-go,” I reasoned, knowi
ng in that moment I had to let him go. If I didn’t, both of us would be left hurt.

  “What if you came with me?” he asked quietly, running a hand up and down my arm. “You could even bring Nutmeg and Marshmallow.”

  And maybe if Cruz had asked six months ago, I would have said yes. “I can’t leave here.”

  “Sure you can,” he reasoned. “It doesn’t have to be forever. Just while I’m shooting, then we can spend our off time here.”

  He picked me up and hugged me. The shed that housed the spring stared right back into my face through the window. My decision had been made months ago. If he knew, he’d offer to stay. He didn’t deserve to be shackled to this town, and I wouldn’t let him sacrifice his career to stay here.

  “No, I can’t,” I said softly, holding on tightly to his neck before wiggling down and placing my feet on the floor. “I’m sorry, Cruz.”

  He cupped my face and ran his thumbs along the paths my tears had started to take. “Never be sorry for us, Sunshine.”

  A single sob racked through my body as I finally allowed the heartbreak to take over. No more living in a made-up version of reality. This was it.

  I had to let Cruz go.

  I’d finally found him—the one who made my heart thump—and I was about to say goodbye.

  ☀ ☀ ☀

  “Goodbye, Cruz,” Aggie called from the inn’s doorway the following morning. “Take care!”

  Cruz waved as he wrapped Eliza in a hug. He was headed to the airport.

  For his next episode.

  Away from Sage Springs.

  Away from me.

  I watched sadly from a few feet away as he shook hands with Jake and Oliver. He then scooped up Ivy, who surprisingly didn’t protest at the contact.

  “See you, Cruz,” Ivy told him, trading glances with me before taking Oliver’s hand and walking back to the inn. Eliza and Jake trailed behind them after Eliza sent me a sympathetic look.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me, gorgeous,” Cruz said, turning his full attention to me as I nervously toyed with the open car door. “Come here.” His arms snaked around my waist as he roughly pulled me to him. “I’m going to miss you so damn much,” he breathed.

  My feet dangled limply in the air as he lifted me so I could see directly into his melancholy eyes. “I’m going to miss you,” I whispered, taking a mental picture of his handsome face. Cameras didn’t do him justice.

  “I expect texts every day, you got me?” he said, arching his brows. “Every single day.”

  I nodded, afraid anything I said would turn into a sob. We’d had a long talk last night and decided to part on friendly terms. As much as the idea of a relationship appealed to me, it wasn’t the same if it was long-distance. I didn’t want him missing out on life because of me, and he didn’t want me living with the media’s attention, which was only going to grow once he started his fourth season.

  “See you, Sunshine,” Cruz said, carefully pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was chaste and cautious and everything Cruz and I were not when we were together.

  Screw that.

  I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, persuading him to open his mouth. If this was the last dose of Cruz I would be given for the foreseeable future, I was going to make it count.

  He cursed and lifted me onto the car’s hood, settling himself between my legs. His tongue stroked mine, and I ran my fingernails gently across his shoulders, drinking in his smell, memorizing every little detail of his lips and his skin and his touch.

  He stamped his lips to mine. I could feel his kiss branding me; making me his. I knew without question I would never be the same. For the rest of my life I’d compare every kiss to this one given to me by the man who was completely and utterly wrong for me.

  But it felt so right.

  Honk!

  “Oops,” Aimee tittered from the driver’s side of the car. “Sorry about that.” She waved an apology and ducked back down, busying herself with her phone.

  Cruz groaned as I snickered. I hopped off the car as Cruz ran a hand over his head. He looked at me with his leafy-green eyes swirling with unspoken emotion. It was better this way, I reminded myself. He tugged me in for one final hug. “We’ll figure something out,” he whispered into my hair.

  I pulled back and smiled sadly, but I hoped it passed for brave. “Maybe one day.”

  “Ye of little faith.” He brushed my hair from my eyes, running his fingers down my face. “I’ll be back first chance I get. And let’s start video chatting instead of texting each other, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Laughing and shaking my head at his gall, I backed away from the car and headed toward the inn. “We’ll see,” I shouted back toward him.

  “I’ll make it worth your time,” he promised, shooting me a wink before getting into the awaiting car. “Oh, and Lexi?” He leaned out the window, flashing me a final glimpse of white teeth. “Just so you know, I’m not about to give up on us.” He ducked back into the car and rolled up the window, saving me from responding. I held up my hand in farewell until I couldn’t see the car any longer.

  “Don’t be so sad, sweetheart,” Aggie’s comforting voice said from behind me. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “He’ll be back.”

  I sighed, leaning my head onto her shoulder. “But what if it’s different? Or what if he finds someone else who makes him happy?”

  Aggie clucked her tongue. “No one’s going to make him happy the way you do, Lexi.”

  “There are plenty of other women out there who could fit the bill,” I reasoned, feeling sadness creep in from all directions.

  “He’d be a fool to let go of what you two share,” she contested.

  “Thanks, Aggie,” I said, hugging her.

  “Love’s not always easy, dear. Why, just take Jameson and me for example,” Aggie replied, giving me a sorrowful smile. “We fell in love when we were about your age.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Aggie chuckled. “But life happened, and we didn’t get a chance to be together until last year. I’m thankful we even got that second chance. And I’m certain Cruz feels that kind of love for you. You’ll get another go at it.” She gently elbowed me in the arm. “I know it.”

  “No offense, but I don’t know if I can wait, like, eighty years to be with him. I want to be with him now,” I moaned, looking longingly down the street Cruz had just traveled.

  “Eighty years?!” Aggie crowed, sending me a reproachful frown. “Just how old do you think I am, Lexi Lou?”

  “Old enough to know better than to leave your shirts in the living room,” Ivy answered, tossing a crumpled blouse at Aggie. “And definitely old enough to stop playing strip checkers.”

  “I second that,” Eliza added, coming to stand on my other side. “You okay?” she asked me.

  “I will be,” I answered, thankful for my friends.

  CHAPTER 21

  “You look like hell,” Ivy remarked as I stood in Wicks Before Pricks holding out a bag of cookies.

  “That’s not very nice,” I pouted, retracting my offer.

  “Hey, give me,” she said, pouncing on me. She swiped my newest creation from my hands and dove into the bag. “Not bad,” she said around a mouthful of baked dough. “But it could use something. Kind of bland.”

  I frowned, but thanked her for her opinion. After all, manners were always important.

  “You’re off your game. What’s up?” Ivy eyed me like she could read my thoughts. “Ah, Cruz.”

  I lifted a shoulder indifferently. No point in denying it. It had been two weeks since Cruz left, and I was doing … fine. So what if he hadn’t returned any of my text messages? I was a big girl. I could take it. It just hurt a little more than I thought it would. I’d unintentionally grown dependent on the way he made me feel when he was around, and okay, I felt slightly taken aback by his blatant dismissal. However, I never showed the sad Lexi in public, not even
to Ivy or Eliza. Pasting on a smile and my normal peppy tone, I waved off Ivy’s concern.

  “Just tired is all. I’ve upped the amount of orders I’m accepting, so I’ve been staying up until three every morning,” I replied. I left out that I’d taken on the extra amount of work because I couldn’t sleep with a broken heart anyway, so I might as well make some extra money.

  “Huh.” Ivy took one last look at me and waved me into the back of the shop. “I’m finishing up a batch of Fa-La-La-Shut-the-Hell-Up candles if you want to watch.”

  “Wow, that’s a mouthful,” I remarked. “What’s that one?”

  Ivy shrugged. “I can’t keep them in stock because they’re flying off the shelves so fast with the holiday season approaching. Visiting relatives apparently tend to ruffle some of my clients’ feathers. Fa-La-La-Shut-the-Hell-Up has violet for peace and chicory for removing obstacles, like toning down ne’er-do-well, nosy visiting family members. And I add a little calming spell to each batch. Come on.” She motioned to the back again.

  I had rarely been able to cajole Ivy into letting me watch her spell candles, so this was a sign that she was taking pity on me. Great. Well, whatever. I still wanted to watch, so I hustled around the counter and joined her in the back.

  Ivy muttered a few words as she added herbs to a pot of melted wax. Although I couldn’t see the magic like Ivy and Cruz, I could tell the air was charged once I settled onto a stool.

  “What’s that?” I asked as Ivy sprinkled something into the pot. She cracked open one eye long enough to glare at me before she answered.

  “Cinnamon.”

  “Really? What does that do?” I quizzed, dismissing her huff of agitation. I needed a distraction, and lucky for Ivy, she was it.

  She sighed, seeming to have come to a similar conclusion about her being my distraction. “It has a lot of properties—love, spirituality, power, wealth, and lust.”

  I nodded slowly as she began pouring the candles. Ivy was efficient and all business as she methodically went from one mold to the next so the wax could set.