by A. J. Pine
“White chocolate raspberry,” she said, trying to calm the slight tremor in her voice.
Ava let out a hum of pleasure. “Sorry,” she said, hand flying to her mouth. “Involuntary response. I’ve tasted this one before, and I think I almost climaxed, too.”
Lily forced a smile while Sara and Tucker each picked up a fork and dug in.
“Jesus, Lil,” Tucker said before he’d even swallowed. “I mean, I knew you could bake, but this? Shit. This is unbelievable.”
She couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride at his words.
Lily turned her gaze to Sara, expecting a similar reaction, but instead she gasped and shrunk back at the sight.
Sara’s eyes were wide as she began to rub and scratch at her neck. Large red bumps appeared there first, then traveling up her face and down her arms.
Hives.
“What’s happening?” the usually serene woman shrieked. “Tucker, what’s happening?”
Tucker scrambled out of his chair and to Sara’s side.
“Can you breathe?” Lily asked, feigning calm. “Sara…”
The woman’s horrified gaze locked on Lily’s.
“Can you breathe?”
Sara took in a deep breath, as if testing herself and then nodded.
“Does your tongue feel like it’s swelling up?” Lily added.
Again, Sara’s expression turned to one of quiet examination.
She shook her head. “But it’s itchy. Like my skin. Does that mean it might swell? Do you know what’s happening to me?”
Lily nodded. “Prior to today, did you have any food allergies?’
“No,” Sara said without hesitation. Then she grazed her teeth over her tongue as she continued to claw at her skin. “I work with food for a living. I’ve tasted everything there is to taste. No allergies.”
Lily pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons, then held it to her ear. “Well, you do now. And because this is your first reaction, we have to act quickly in case you go into anaphylactic shock.”
Sara gasped. Tucker held her tight, and Ava just stood there and waited, Lily’s underwire of support.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” Lily heard on the other end of the line.
She started by giving the address of the winery. “I have a woman who’s experiencing a severe allergic reaction to raspberries. No, no history, but she is covered in hives, even inside her mouth.” Lily swallowed. “And she’s pregnant.” Lily nodded. “Yes. Still breathing. Still talking. Okay. Yes. Thank you.”
She ended the call, pushed back a wave of emotion threatening to surface, and reminded herself that she needed to be calm, to stay in control so Sara and Tucker wouldn’t freak out.
“Fire department’s closer, so they’re sending EMTs from there. They know your situation and should be able to keep you stable until you get to the hospital. If your breathing is okay now, it’s likely it will stay that way, but with this being your first reaction—and with the baby—” Oh God. Please let their baby be okay. “It’s a berry allergy,” she told them.
“How do you know?” Sara asked, her voice shaky.
Lily had to force herself not to wince at the sight of the woman she thought so strong and unflappable now so suddenly vulnerable.
“My mom has the same allergy,” she said. “We found out with strawberries, though. But it didn’t manifest until she was an adult. It was—just the two of us when it happened. I’d saved up, bought some angel food cake, strawberries, and whip cream from the store so I could make her strawberry shortcake. She took one bite, and the hives were instant. But when her tongue started to swell—”
She was interrupted by the sound of sirens. Less than a minute later, the EMTs burst through the door with the rolling stretcher. And only a couple minutes after that, they were rolling Sara out, Tucker trotting beside her with her hand firmly gripped in his.
Then there was nothing but silence, just she and Ava standing in the big empty room.
“Was your mom okay?” Ava said, grabbing Lily’s hand.
They both stared toward the empty doorway.
Lily nodded. “I was six,” she said. “And I didn’t know where her phone was or even how to call nine-one-one. I ran to the neighbor—to the trailer next door—and told them what was happening. I’m still shocked they knew what I was saying through all the tears.” She let out a huff of bitter laughter. “Mrs. Wishne’s daughter had a peanut allergy. If she hadn’t had that EpiPen…”
Ava squeezed her hand tight. “Oh, Lily. Honey. That must have been so scary.”
She nodded.
But the fear isn’t what she remembered so well. It was the helplessness. Being out of control left her helpless to save her mom. It was only a stroke of luck that she didn’t watch her die that day.
Out of nowhere she was awash in a wave of guilt. The woman she’d so desperately not wanted to lose was almost a stranger to her these days.
Maybe she was a control freak, but she’d never put anyone else at risk again since then. Herself included. And today only reaffirmed that it had been the best decision she’d ever made.
Chapter Nine
Luke stood with his arms crossed, watching Lily pace the empty ER waiting room. He waited, assuming she’d eventually stop, but when several cycles of the agitated behavior ensued with no end in sight, he reckoned it was time to step in before she wore through the soles of her shoes.
“You know, I don’t think you’ll get very far if you keep changing directions.”
She gasped and stumbled as she forced herself to a stop, and he had to keep himself from rushing to her.
Damn ass-backward instinct.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, and he was unable to glean anything from her surprisingly even tone. It was as if she always spent her early afternoons in the emergency room and wanted to simply inquire if he did the same.
He gestured to the small duffel on his shoulder.
“Tucker called. Wanted me to grab a few of Sara’s things from his place to have overnight.”
Her eyes widened, and her hand cupped her mouth.
Aw hell.
This time he did rush to her side. He grabbed her by the shoulders, backed her toward an empty chair, and then sat her down.
She dropped her hand. “I almost killed the bride with wedding cake.”
Luke tossed the bag on the floor and then lowered himself to squat in front of her, arms resting across his knees.
“Yeah, but you didn’t.”
She hugged her torso, and he realized not only how shaken she was but also that shaken had never once been a word he’d have used to describe Lily Green. He guessed almost killing someone with your cooking could do it, though.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “I knew Tucker didn’t have any food allergies, but I asked Sara ahead of time. I’m sure of it. I created this food survey for clients to make sure I don’t use any known allergens or that I don’t use a hated spice or herb. Like cilantro, you know? Some people hate cilantro. I’m not one of them, but they’re out there, the cilantro haters. And I might have to cook for one of them.”
He shook his head, his eyes dipping toward his feet so she couldn’t see him bite back a smile.
“What?” she asked.
He guessed he wasn’t subtle enough.
He rose long enough to drop into the empty seat beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Nothing,” he said, crossing one boot over the other. “I’m sure there will be plenty of cilantro haters in your future. It’s good you’re so prepared.”
She pouted and backhanded him on the shoulder, but he noted the hint of a smile.
“I wasn’t prepared enough,” she said. “Make fun all you want, but imagine if I didn’t check for these things. I could have endangered the baby if I’d served unpasteurized cheese or—” She gasped again. “Is the baby okay? Oh God, no one has told me anything. Ava had to go pick up Owen from her parents’ hou
se, and Jack is back there making sure Tucker and Sara don’t sue, and shit, Luke, just tell me Sara and the baby are okay.”
Something in his gut twisted at the way she said his name, like it was some sort of a plea, and with zero rational thought before he acted, he draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Hey,” he whispered as she didn’t even fight it. She just rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing for her to do. “Sara’s fine. The baby is fine. Tucker said it’s some fluke thing that can happen—allergies emerging during pregnancy that weren’t there before. Because Sara’s whole life revolves around food, she wants to make sure this doesn’t happen again, so they’re running some blood tests and keeping her overnight to make sure there’s no secondary reaction to the—what kind of cake did you give her?”
Lily let out a long breath that warmed his neck yet somehow made the hair on his arms prickle.
“White chocolate raspberry.”
He whistled. “That the one I tried?”
She nodded against him.
“Shit that was good.”
She nodded again, and he dipped his head, allowing himself a subtle inhale of her hair. Jesus. She smelled like a goddamn bakery, sweet enough to eat. He closed his eyes and breathed in again, and that’s when he heard the sound of a throat clearing.
The two of them bolted upright to see Tucker looming above them, his dark hair falling over his narrowed eyes.
“You two look—cozy,” he said, and Luke fought going on the defensive.
He stood and handed his friend the duffel bag. “Hey, man. No need to be jealous. I’ll hold you in my arms next time you accidentally almost kill someone, too.”
Tucker grabbed the bag, his jaw ticking once before his expression relaxed into a smile.
“Thanks, asshole,” he said to Luke. “For the bag and for taking care of Lily.”
Lily shot to her feet. “Tucker, I am so sorry. If I’d known pregnancy could trigger allergies, I—I—”
“Lil,” he said, pulling her into a hug Luke wasn’t expecting. “The EMTs said you were amazing. Because you were so calm and knew exactly what was happening, they got to Sara quickly enough that they were able to stop the reaction with a low dose of antihistamine. Sara doesn’t like the idea of taking any medication while pregnant, but they promised it was safe. The hives are gone, and she’s totally fine. The baby, too. Thanks to you.”
He squeezed her tighter, and the sight of the two of them in this intimate moment forced Luke to look away. Yet out of sight did nothing to put the vision out of mind.
Before today, Luke had been the last man to hold Lily Green in his arms. Before today, the only way she’d ended up there was when they were so angry at each other the only choice was to kiss her or explode. But now she needed comfort. She needed someone to tell her everything was going to be okay, but she didn’t want that someone to be Luke. And it stung like hell to realize it.
When the two finally broke apart, Lily’s shoulders relaxed.
“I’m glad everyone’s okay. And I understand if you want to cancel the contract after—”
“Cancel?” Tucker said. “Everything you prepared today was amazing. Cake included. No one could have known this was going to happen, and no one could have handled it better than you did. Sara wanted me to tell you that we’ll get back to you tomorrow with a list of any other known allergens but that you should go ahead with all menu items other than cake, and we’ll figure out an allergen-free choice by the end of the week.”
She let out a long exhale. “Wow. Okay. Um. This is…huge.” She started backing toward the door. “Everyone’s okay, and I’m still catering the wedding, and the menu is a go. I should head home. Time to make a calendar, find a volunteer staff, and get to work. We’ve got less than two weeks.”
Luke watched as she gripped her ever-present shoulder bag, gave them both a nervous, not quite genuine grin, and disappeared through the automatic doors.
The two men stared after her for several long seconds before meeting each other’s gaze.
“What’s going on, Everett?” Tucker asked, and Luke held his ground.
“Nothing, Green. Just comforting a shaken friend.”
Tucker crossed his arms. “I’m married to the girl for three years, and you can’t stand her. Now you two are friends?”
“Christ, Tuck. No, we’re not friends.” It wasn’t as if he was lying. They were anything but. “But she was a mess. For fuck’s sake, she almost killed her ex-husband’s fiancée. With wedding cake. I wasn’t going to just stand there and watch her punish herself. So I fucking comforted her.”
Shit. He was getting too defensive. This shouldn’t matter.
Tucker’s posture relaxed.
“Look,” he said. “I appreciate you stepping in. I just want to make sure that’s all it was. I know I wasn’t the best husband and that I have zero claim on her. But it still hurt like hell for her to walk out on me, and—I don’t know—you’re like my brother, Everett. And—”
Luke shook his head. “I get it, man. I get it. I was just trying to help out.” Because Tucker was his brother, too. “I’m just glad Sara’s okay.”
Then he pivoted and strode out the ER door.
He sat behind the wheel of his truck and debated where to go. When he couldn’t come up with a decision, he just got on the road and drove. A good fifteen minutes went by before his phone buzzed in the cup holder beside him. He glanced down to see it was Ava, so he pulled onto the shoulder to make sure everything was okay.
I’m at my parents’ with Owen. Jack said he stopped by Lily’s to make sure she was okay. Said her car was in the driveway, but she wouldn’t answer the door or her phone. I know Sara’s fine, but maybe this hit Lil harder than we thought? I’m still an hour away. Can you stop over there if you’re in the area? See if she’ll answer for you? I’m a little worried.
She was fine. He knew she was fine. Maybe even excited to get started on her favorite activity—planning—when she’d left.
But what if, for once, the unflappable Lily Green was finally…flapped? He knew he wasn’t her first choice for comfort. That had already been established at the hospital. And after what Tucker said to him, he figured he should just pretend he missed the text.
He threw his head against the back of his seat and groaned, then started to type.
Yeah. I’ll swing by.
Because even if being alone with Lily Green was the worst idea in the world, Luke was a little worried, too. And maybe the reason he’d been driving anywhere but home was because he knew there was somewhere else he’d rather be.
He put the car in drive, pulled off the shoulder, and made a U-turn. He was a man with direction now. The only problem was the imaginary street sign that flashed in his head.
Wrong way.
But these days Luke Everett wasn’t great at following the rules.
“Lily, open the door. I know you’re in there. Ava’s with the kid and can’t get here, and she knows you wouldn’t open up for Jack. If you don’t show some sign of life, she’s gonna make me call the police, and you know Sheriff Hawkins is an asshole when he’s pulled off his nighttime traffic duty.”
It was mostly true. Sheriff Hawkins was grumpy as hell if he got pulled from his quiet shoulder of road. Few knew the sheriff actually liked sitting in his Tahoe with his radar gun and his German shepherd. But Luke was one of the few. Ava hadn’t threatened to call him, though. That was all Luke. Because this wasn’t like Lily, and he didn’t like the sinking feeling he got in his gut each time he rapped on the door to no avail.
He pounded for the third and what he swore was his final time.
“Christ, Lily, just open the goddamn d—”
The door swung open just as his fist was about to make contact again. He stopped short, arm still raised, and felt like he’d been socked in the gut instead of almost doing just that to Lily.
She stood there with an afghan wrapped around her shoulde
rs, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweatpants, one hand wrapped around a glass of red wine.
It was her eyes—red rimmed, lashes visibly wet, and no sign of that ever-present spark that usually drove him mad—that threw him off-kilter.
“Sign of life, okay?” she said. “You’re now free to go.”
She made a move to push the door shut, but he shoved his boot against it, effectively taking an uninvited step inside.
“And you’re free to enjoy the pleasure of my company because I don’t have anywhere else to be.” He pushed past her and strode straight to the kitchen. “Got anything that comes in a can rather than a bottle with a cork?” he called over his shoulder. “Pretty thirsty myself.”
He heard her bare feet padding across the wood floor at record speed.
And three. Two. One.
“You can’t just barge in here like you own the place. You asked me to answer the door. I answered. Now it’s time for you to go.”
He didn’t answer her right away. First he had to finish rummaging through the fridge to find something suitable to drink.
“Seriously,” he said, straightening to meet her death stare. “No Budweiser? Coors? What’s a guy supposed to drink around here?”
He winked.
She glared at him, and he noticed the skin under her eyes no longer looked wet.
“You’re growing grapes,” she informed him.
“So I’ve been told.” He raised his brows.
“So maybe it’s time you grew accustomed to your product and learned how to appreciate something that actually tastes good.”
He feigned a wince.
“That hurts, Green. You’ve officially insulted my palate.”
Her lip twitched, and he watched her try to fight it. But she failed miserably. And soon enough, there it was—her smile.
He guessed a cabinet, opened it, and withdrew a wineglass. He set it on the counter in front of her.
“Why don’t you enlighten my taste buds?” he said, nodding at the bottle. “Ellis Vineyards, huh? You still gonna drink the competition when Crossroads goes live?”