The Icing on the Cake
by
Rosemarie Naramore
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The Icing on the Cake
© Copyright 2014 by Rosemarie Naramore
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Epilogue
Chapter One
Kristine Branton eyed the ladder propped against the storefront of her family’s bakery. It appeared rickety at best, downright dangerous at worst. Unfortunately, the sign above the store had pulled away from the siding and was dangling precariously above the sidewalk. Kristine hated to envision the condition of the pedestrian who happened to walk past when the sign gave way. She also hated to imagine the ensuing lawsuit.
Her first inclination was to call her father to fix the sign. It was as natural as taking a breath to think of him when she found herself in a bind. In her mind’s eye, she saw him walking toward her with a big smile on his face and his tool chest in his hand. He would have made short work of the pesky sign. Lord knew, she missed him desperately. Not only was he a terrific handyman, he was also kind hearted, soft spoken, and always ready to lend an ear. She remembered how he’d cock his head, listening intently to whatever happened to ail her at a particular moment. “It’ll get better, honey,” he’d tell her and then pull her into a hug. How she missed his steady presence and strong arms.
Perhaps only her mother Ruth missed him more. Kristine couldn’t help worrying about her. She had lost her soul mate and just couldn’t seem to move past his loss. She understood it was still relatively early in her grieving process, but her once vivacious and outgoing mother had become sedate and reclusive. Kristine knew she was still reeling from the shock of her husband’s sudden death from a heart attack. She had stopped working at the bakery and rarely even left the house. Kristine suspected that getting out and interacting with people again was the key to her overcoming her grief, but she simply seemed unable to pull herself together. Kristine had picked up the slack for her, both at home and at the bakery, but she was beginning to feel the strain.
Her sister Lori was beginning to lose patience with their mother, urging her to ‘snap out’ of her depression, but Kristine knew it wasn’t that easy. Her parents had married young and her father truly had been a wonderful man. Kristine hoped to find a man much like him someday.
But who was she kidding? Running the family business left little time for thoughts of romantic relationships, let alone embarking on the real thing.
Her sister Lori felt no such constraints, however, and was conspicuously absent this morning. No doubt, she’d had a late night and had decided to give herself the day off. Kristine would have appreciated a phone call. But Lori was older and regarded herself as the bakery manager, and thus, felt no obligation to apprise Kristine of her comings and goings. It was a constant battle between them.
If only Mitch was here. At several inches over six foot, he was definitely more suited to the task of repairing that sign. Unfortunately, her fellow baker was scheduled off today. Minnie, another baker, would arrive in an hour or so, but she was even shorter than Kristine, who topped out at only an inch over five feet tall.
With a shoring breath, she tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder and regarded the ladder through narrowed green eyes, and then glanced up at the sign again. Branton’s Bakery. This particular sign had hung here for over one hundred years. Maybe it was time to replace it. Regardless, she needed to fix it until she secured a replacement.
She chewed her lower lip as she placed a tentative foot on the lowest rung and a hand on one of the highest. She tested both and found them sound. Pleased, she climbed onto the first rung, and then to the second. So far, so good. She continued upward until she reached the uppermost rung. She felt slightly off balance and reached a hand toward the building and braced herself against it. She surveyed the sign, still too high above her for her to reach it.
One more step would bring her to a small platform at the top of the ladder. It might be just high enough, she mused, as she carefully climbed onto it. Continuing to brace herself with one hand, she reached the other hand toward the sign and attempted to hoist it back into place. She hadn’t anticipated how heavy it was, nor had she remembered to bring her toolbox with her in order to secure the sign to the wall.
Stupid, stupid, she muttered, as she attempted to place one foot onto the top rung of the ladder in order to begin her descent. Just as it appeared her foot would make purchase with it, Kristine heard the sound of a dog barking and its human counterpart barking out orders in return.
“Get back here, Gracie!” a woman shouted. “Gracie! Watch out for that…”
“Ladder,” Kristine murmured wanly, as she felt the impact of the dog’s large body against the rickety ladder. She felt it tumble out from beneath her and found herself doing a backwards drop toward the pavement. Instinctively, she stiffened and braced for impact. Eyes closed, she continued her drop to the sidewalk, feeling as if it were happening in agonizingly slow motion.
To her utter surprise, she found herself caught in two strong arms. Too stunned to speak, she lay quietly, splayed out across a couple of the most finely muscled biceps she’d ever had the good fortune to encounter. Though she couldn’t actually see them, she felt them flexed beneath her.
Relief washed over her. She was fine, unbroken, and able to go about her day. And she owed it all to the stranger with the great arms who had caught her.
When her heart rate returned to a near normal rhythm, she finally opened her eyes and turned to see him. She certainly owed him a debt of gratitude. Her eyes lit on his face. She recognized him immediately. It had been several years since she’d last seen him, but it was him—Joseph Lancaster.
Her heart dropped. It couldn’t be. He was probably among the list of the last persons she wanted to see. Lori would be delighted to hear he was back in town, however. The two had dated when they were in high school and she had always regarded him as the one that had gotten away. But for Kristine… He’d been the bane of her existence.
“You’re up early, Krissy,” he observed, his lips twitching into a smile.
It seemed an odd comment. Why hadn’t he commented on her fall, or her stupidity for climbing a ladder that had seen better days, and without another person close by to steady it for her?
He arched his brows, as if encouraging her to speak. She wasn’t sure how to respond to him, and was, frankly, surprised he remembered her name. Of course, he’d been the only person to ever call her Krissy and he’d only done so in order to get on her nerves. He had teased her relentlessly when they were kids.
She knew he had regarded her as Lori’s annoying little sister, and she had feigned contempt for him, when in reality, he had been the object of her affection from the time she had entered high school as a freshman and he had been a senior. Lord, it was mortifying to remember how his mere proxim
ity could cause an embarrassing spike in her heart rate, not to mention induce a blush to spill across her cheeks. Thankfully, she had managed to keep her crush on him a secret from her sister, and he had remained blessedly unaware of her feelings for him.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You didn’t hit your head on the ladder, did you?”
She finally found her voice. “No, no, I’m fine. Thanks for … catching me.”
He eyed her speculatively. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. You can put me down. Thank you.”
He hesitated. “What were you doing on the ladder?” He glanced upward and spotted the sign. “Oh.”
“I was attempting to repair it.”
“Where’s your toolbox?”
She sighed and felt herself growing more embarrassed by the second. He didn’t seem inclined to put her down and she was finding it oddly disconcerting being so close to him. Time had been kind to him, as his once boyish good looks had given way to the hard planes of a ruggedly chiseled and strikingly handsome face. His dark hair was cut short, his blue eyes appeared every bit as bright as they always had, and they still twinkled when he smiled. His perfectly straight nose remained untouched—despite his having played four years of college football. And those lips… How she had longed to kiss those lips once upon a time…
She was unaware she was staring so intently at his lips, which were now parted in a broad smile. “Do I have something on my teeth?” he asked finally. “I brushed this morning. Haven’t had breakfast yet…”
“What? No. I mean…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I mean. You can put me down,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t know,” he said, eyeing her with concern. “You seem … off.”
“Thanks,” she said drolly. “If memory serves, that isn’t the first time you made that particular observation about me.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. But you’re sure you’re not hurt?” Before she could answer, he hefted her in his arms, as if gauging her weight.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a puzzled frown.
“You still work at the bakery?”
She nodded and shifted in his arms, as if hoping the action might compel him to release her. He held firm.
“Well? Do you?”
“What?”
“Do you still work at the bakery? Inside, I mean?”
“Oh. Yes.” She shook her head, feeling frazzled. “I do.”
“Maybe you oughta eat a cupcake now and then,” he observed. “You don’t weigh anything.” He pinned her with a look. “Are you working too hard? Getting enough z’s?”
She ignored his questions. “Joe, put me down. Please.”
He finally seemed to register she meant business and lowered her to her feet. She teetered slightly and he quickly grasped her arm to keep her upright. He eyed her … worriedly?
“Well, thanks for… You know.”
“You could have been killed,” he said of her fall.
“Well, thankfully, you came along.” She furrowed her brows. “What are you doing here?”
“Moved home,” he said simply.
“Why?”
He appeared taken aback. “You don’t seem especially happy to see me.”
She weighed the comment with a side-to-side shake of her head. “All things considered, I’m glad you’re here.”
He grinned suddenly. “You mean, because I happened to catch you before you ended up splattered on the pavement.”
“Yep. That.”
“Otherwise, you wouldn’t be the least bit happy to see me,” he observed, watching her thoughtfully now.
“Well, you weren’t exactly nice to me when we were kids.”
The comment seemed to take him by surprise. “What do you mean? You and I got along great.” He grinned sheepishly. “Got along a little better with your sister but…”
She raised a silencing hand and shook her head. “Well, thanks again.” She began walking toward the bakery. If she was remembering correctly, her dad’s toolbox was stowed in a closet in the back room.
“Where are you going?” he asked, falling into step beside her. “Aren’t you going to fix the sign? If it falls, it could kill someone.”
“Which is why I’m heading inside to get my toolbox,” she said, struggling to retain her patience.
She hurried away, hoping against hope he would be gone when she returned. No such luck. She found him waiting outside for her. He promptly took the toolbox from her and headed for the ladder.
She jogged to catch up to him. “I don’t know if the ladder will hold you…”
“Hey, I weigh the very same now that I did in high school,” he said, feigning offense.
“That wasn’t a commentary on your weight,” she said with a sigh. “It’s more a general observation about the condition of the ladder.”
He reached it and gave it a firm shake. He tested the bottom rung by pressing on it with his foot. He then stood back and stared at it for a long moment as if to assure it was human-worthy. He finally shook his head and passed her the toolbox. “I think I’d feel better if I used my ladder.” He raised a finger, indicating he needed a moment, and then jogged away.
Kristine watched after him as he crossed the street. He strode toward a large, shiny red truck that was parked curbside. From a distance, she could see the bed was filled with tools and lumber. He was awfully trusting leaving the items unattended, but then, this was Cooper Glenn and the crime rate remained far lower than the national average. People in the small town still left their doors unlocked at night.
Joe dropped the tailgate and stretched to reach the ladder inside. He easily tugged it out and then strode back to her with it tucked under one arm. In the span of a blink, he had moved the old ladder and positioned his new one against the building. He climbed up and reached the uppermost rung. “Tool box,” he said.
She passed it to him and he placed it on the small platform at the top. Before opening it, he looked above him and spotted the source of the dangling sign. “Screw came loose,” he observed, and then glanced down at the sidewalk below. “Do you happen to see it?”
Kristine crouched down and began a visual search for the lost item. Sure enough, she spotted it against the building, behind one of the ladder legs. “Found it,” she announced, as she rose and passed it to him.
He took it from her and held it carefully as he opened the toolbox. He rummaged around and found the screwdriver he needed. After lifting the sign into the correct position, he carefully reattached it. He leaned back for a better view of the entire setup. “I’m going to come back later and do a better job of securing the sign. I’m afraid it’s going to come loose again.”
“I’ll … hire someone.”
He closed the toolbox and dropped off the ladder. He pinned her with a quizzical glance. “Why would you do that?”
She shifted under his scrutiny. “It’s not your job to fix my sign.”
He laughed. “This is Cooper Glenn,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “When a neighbor is in need, we all step up to the plate, er, sign, to help.”
“Uh, huh. Well, thanks again.”
She turned to leave when he called her back. “You forgot your toolbox.”
“Oh, yeah.” She walked back to him and reached for it.
He held onto it and stared at it thoughtfully. “This belonged to your dad,” he said, smiling softly.
“Yes, it did.” She took it from him and was about to walk away again when he spoke.
“I was sorry to hear about his passing. He really was a great guy.”
Kristine nodded. “Thank you, and yes, he really was a great guy.”
“How’s your mom?”
Kristine sighed. “She’s having a hard time.”
“Is she still working at the bakery?”
“Uh, no,” she answered crisply. “Well, I should go. I have baking to do.”
“Where’s Lor
i?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Why don’t you call her? Her number’s in the book.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “Will she be at the bakery later?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”
He watched her quizzically. “Doesn’t she work at the bakery?”
Kristine hesitated. She’d almost made a sarcastic remark about her sister’s lack of commitment when it came to the business. Lori typically floated like a leaf on the wind, her ultimate destination from hour to hour seemingly up to the fates. She came and went as she pleased and she had never been a big fan of the eight-hour workday.
Joe seemed awfully concerned about her sister’s whereabouts, but then, they had been an item for nearly a year while in high school. The two had made a beautiful couple—Lori, tall, platinum blond and statuesque. Joe, taller, dark, and built like a Greek god. Perhaps he hoped to pick up where he and Lori had left off years before.
She wondered, did he still have feelings for Lori? She began chewing her lip thoughtfully. Lori had been divorced for several years and was now dating Chad Lawson, a local lawyer. It appeared the two had a future together, if Lori’s take on their relationship was accurate.
“Krissy…?” Joe said, interrupting her thoughts.
It took her several seconds to remember the question he’d asked. “Sometimes she works,” she answered with a sigh. “Well, I really need to get moving. Duty calls,” she added too brightly.
Chapter Two
Kristine turned away from Joe and started toward the bakery when suddenly, she heard a woman’s scream. She spun around, alarmed, and registered the arrival of the large dog that had caused her fall from the ladder. The dog lumbered toward her and rose up on its back feet. Its large front paws struck her chest, causing her to topple backward. Somehow, some way, and she had no idea how he did it, Joe managed to catch her once again.
For a brief second, she was dangling in the air, held by him, and mortified by the sight of the sidewalk inches from her face. Suddenly, he grasped her other arm and pulled her into an upright position and set her on her feet as if she weighed no more than a small child.
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