Imagine That

by Kristin Wallace

  “My mom loves chocolate chip. Half a dozen of those. And throw in a dozen peanut butter crunch for my brother.”

  She hesitated. “You tried to make cookies for your mother? Aren’t you a good son?”

  He grimaced. “I think I got distracted trying to get the pot roast in the slow cooker for dinner.”

  “You make dinner, too?”

  “Some nights.”

  “You must be close to your mother,” Emily said, fighting back a bolt of envy. Her relationship with Professor Vanessa Sinclair could best be described as brittle. Fragile. She’d always had the fear one wrong tap could send everything shattering into pieces.

  “We are,” Nate said.

  “You’re lucky you get along so well.”

  “I’d better,” Nate said, with a chuckle. “I live with her.”

  The warm fuzzies evaporated. “Oh. Must be nice.”

  Emily packaged the cookies and rang up his purchase, managing to maintain a stream of meaningless small talk the entire time

  “I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, looking down at the bag in his hand.

  “I’ll be here… unless I manage to burn the place down, of course.”

  He chuckled and headed for the door. At the threshold he paused and glanced back. Emily summoned a smile and waggled her fingers. She stared at the empty doorway long after he’d disappeared.

  He still lives with his mother.

  The news shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like he went around torturing kittens. So he still lived at home. Big deal.

  She shouldn’t even be thinking about his living arrangements. She had work to do. Like figuring out how to unlock the mysteries of her mind so she could resuscitate a dying career. If she failed in her quest, she could wind up living with her parents, which would be like shoving bamboo under her fingernails and then dunking her hands in a bucket of peroxide.

  She could not let herself be distracted from her goal. Certainly not by a rumpled, small-town house painter. Even if he did look like Heathcliff. Even if he took some of the oxygen with him when he left the room.

  Nate Cooper could not get in the way.

  Chapter Five

  Baker’s assistant. Day Two. So far Emily hadn’t dropped anything. At least nothing she felt the need to reimburse anyone over. She’d only been in the shop for an hour, but avoiding a major disaster signaled progress as far as she was concerned. Unfortunately, Emily had a sinking feeling the law of averages was about to bite her in the rear. Jessie had come out of the kitchen with a tray of crème brulée cups a few minutes before. From her multi-pocketed apron, she’d produced a tiny torch, which she expected Emily to use.

  A torch. An instrument for producing fire. Oh yeah, no danger here at all.

  Jessie had demonstrated how to use the device to brown the tops of the desserts. Then she’d left Emily with the pithy instruction, “Don’t kill yourself… or me” before retreating to the kitchen to start on a batch of chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

  Emily picked up the torch and stared at it with trepidation. Her heart kicked into overdrive as she clicked the switch on the handle. Fire leapt from the nozzle in a steady stream. She released the breath she’d been holding and smiled. Maybe she could conquer baking after all. She slowly fanned the blaze over the crème brulée and watched in amazement as the tops turned golden brown. Almost like magic.

  The bell above the door jangled as someone entered the shop.

  “Be right with you,” Emily called out, not daring to take her eyes off the delicate treats.

  “Take your time.”

  Her senses recognized the deep male voice, and her head swiveled. Nate stood in front of the counter. A teenaged boy loitered in the background.

  Emily smiled. “Hi. Did you eat all the cookies already?”

  Nate jerked his head toward the teenager by the door. “He did.”

  In the next instant, Nate’s expression transformed to something close to horror. “Emily… watch out!”

  She gasped. Flames licked up the sleeve of her baking smock like an angry snake. Before she could think what to do, Nate charged around the counter and grabbed her. He pulled her to the sink, flipped on the water, and shoved her arm under the faucet.

  Emily blew out a breath as the fire extinguished. “Oh.”

  “Are you all right?” Nate asked, shoving up her sleeve to examine her arm. “Did you burn yourself?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  A gust of air burst from his lungs, and he grabbed her again, pulling her to his chest. Emily felt as if she’d been invaded. By his scent, by the hands smoothing along her back and the play of muscles in the chest where her cheek rested. By the heartbeat pulsing beneath his shirt. Her knees about gave out.

  “Hey, good save, bro.”

  Nate released her so fast she almost fell over, but caught herself against the counter in time. She watched as he lifted a hand to massage his chest. The other hand raked through his hair, making it stand up on end. He kept his eyes averted, as if he didn’t trust himself to look at her.

  “What’s all the commotion out here?” Jessie asked as she barreled through the doorway.

  She stopped when she saw Nate standing behind the counter. She took in the abandoned torch on the floor, Emily’s wet sleeve, and Nate’s shellshocked expression, and nodded. “Right. Just tell me you don’t need Workman’s Comp.”

  Emily’s cheeks burned as hot as the flame from the torch. “No.”

  Jessie shook her head and ducked back into the kitchen, muttering something about not asking.

  “Thank you,” Emily said the minute Jessie disappeared. “I don’t know where my mind went to forget I was holding a lit torch.”

  “We distracted you,” Nate mumbled.

  “You’re quite the hero. You moved so fast I didn’t even have time to panic.”

  The teenaged boy chuckled. “I’ll say. He almost jumped over the counter. Like he was in an action movie.”

  A quick study told Emily the two were related. They shared the same chocolate brown hair and gray eyes. The boy had yet to reach Nate’s height, and he was lanky rather than muscular, but a few years from now he’d be just as devastating.

  Hmm. Seemed there was another Heathcliff in town. She felt sorry for all the teenaged girls.

  Nate cleared his throat. “Emily, this is my little brother, Zach. He’s read your book and wanted to meet you.”

  “Hi, Zach,” Emily said, holding out her hand.

  Zach took it and shook up and down like he was pumping for water. “I still have Kingdom of Dreams on my shelf. Must have read it a hundred times.”

  Emily’s heart fluttered. Didn’t matter how many people complimented her work, praise still made her giddy. “I’m so glad you liked it.”

  “So, why’d you stop writing? You were hot, but after Sword of the Dark you like disappeared.”

  The fluttering stopped. “Oh… well… publishing business. It can be so slow. Takes forever to get a new book out. You know.”

  Yeah, it took forever when she couldn’t think of a word to say.

  Zach didn’t hear the biting comment reverberating through Emily’s head, and he nodded like the explanation made perfect sense. “Grisela is like the coolest character ever.”

  Emily chuckled. “I think so.”

  “Who’s Grisela?” Nate asked.

  Zach sent him a bug-eyed stare. “From E.J.’s first book. Grisela is the fairy princess.”

  The corners of Nate’s mouth lifted. “A fairy princess?”

  Emily bristled. “She’s a warrior.”

  “A warrior fairy princess.”

  She could clobber him. Instead, her hands clenched into fists. “That’s right.”

  Zach was too excited to notice the sudden tension. “Grisela is awesome. She has a sword and a magic satchel filled with these fire missiles. She rocks.”

  “I’m sure she’s great,” Nate said, his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh.


  Zach shifted on his feet, and a faint hint of blush stained his cheeks, as if he’d realized getting excited about any kind of fairy was totally not cool. “You’d have to read the book to understand.”

  “Your brother doesn’t appreciate literature like we do, Zach,” Emily said with a huff of irritation.

  “Yeah, Zach here got all the brains in the family,” Nate said, not at all insulted. In fact, he grinned. “I’m just a dumb shmuck.”

  Zach frowned. “You’re not dumb, you’re—”

  “Emily isn’t interested in my problems,” Nate cut in. “Mom’s waiting for us at home. Let’s stock up and get going.”

  The two picked out a variety of cookies and several brownies. Emily bagged the treats while she pondered what had just happened. Some kind of message had been passed between the brothers. Like Nate didn’t want Zach to reveal something he shouldn’t.

  She rang up the order and handed the bag to Nate. Zach snatched it up and filched a cookie.

  “Dinner, Zach,” Nate said, cuffing his brother in the arm for emphasis.

  The teenager rolled his eyes as he stuffed a second cookie in his mouth. “Like I won’t eat at home, too.”

  “Right,” Nate said with an ironic sigh. Then he aimed a stern glance at Emily. “Keep away from those torches.”

  “I doubt Jessie will let me touch anything flammable again.” Meanwhile, Emily would probably have to put ice on her cheeks to douse the heat.

  Nate laughed outright. “Not a bad idea.”

  “I’m usually pretty coordinated. You make me—” She gulped and zipped her lips.

  His stilled. “I make you what?”

  Emily shook her head. No way could she answer with anything resembling the truth. Talk about a disastrous mistake.

  Another long, heated look sizzled across the counter, and then Nate hustled his brother out of the shop. Emily didn’t breathe again until the door shut behind them.

  Remember, Em, you have a goal, and he is not part of it.

  ****

  Nate burst through the door of Jessie’s Treats and hurried up the sidewalk toward the car. He needed to put some distance between himself and the caramel-haired Calamity Jane inside. His heart still threatened to erupt out of his chest like the alien tearing through that guy’s stomach. Emily claimed he’d moved fast, but in his mind time had slipped into slow motion. His only thought had been to stop the flames from eating into her skin.

  Then, like an idiot, he’d pulled her into his arms. Man, what a dumb move. He could still feel the imprint of her pressed against his chest. Her scent, a combination of cinnamon and some kind of berry-scented shampoo, assaulted his senses every time he breathed. He should never have touched her.

  “Bro, are we running for a reason?”

  Nate skidded to a halt. “Huh?”

  “Are we late?” Zach asked.

  “Sorry, I was thinking of something else,” he said, forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm down.

  The kid grinned. “I’ll bet. She’s hot, man.”

  “Who?”

  If possible Zach’s grin spread wider. “Are you kidding? E.J. Sinclair. Like you didn’t notice. She’s little, but everything’s packaged just right.”

  He scowled. “You shouldn’t talk about women like that. It’s disrespectful.”

  “I’m just saying,” Zach said with careless shrug. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

  “About what?”

  Zach sent him a come-on glare. “About Emily Sinclair? About you looking like you were ready to—”

  “Hey!”

  The kid’s eyes widened. “—kiss her. Man, what’d you think I was gonna say?”

  “Nothing,” Nate mumbled. “Come on. We need to go home and fix dinner.”

  Zach laughed. “So, more than kissing then? Do we need to have a talk?”

  Nate jabbed a finger in his brother’s face, but he couldn’t come up with a good response. Thankfully, they’d reached the car. “Just get in.”

  Of course, Zach didn’t let the subject drop. As soon as Nate had backed out of the parking space, his brother launched the next attack.

  “She had the same expression on her face,” Zach said, looking out the window as if he’d just commented on the weather.

  Nate’s head swiveled around. “What?”

  “Car…” Zach said, pointing out the windshield.

  Nate jerked the wheel back, narrowly avoiding an SUV parked on the street.

  “Good save.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nate asked, careful to keep his eyes on the road.

  “Emily. Should have seen her face when you grabbed her. Like—”

  He shouldn’t even care, but he had to know. “Like what?”

  “Like she could stay there forever.”

  A shiver worked its way down Nate’s spine. “Must have been shock from almost burning herself.”

  Zach snorted.

  They drove in silence for a few minutes.

  “You’re not going to do anything are you?” Zach asked finally.

  “She won’t be here long.”

  “So?”

  “So… she’s leaving.”

  “Maybe you can convince her to stay.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe she’s The One,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and making air quotes with his fingers.

  “Shut up.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “There’s nothing to get.” Nate made a left onto their street. “She’s passing through. We have nothing in common, and besides I have too much on my plate right now to get distracted.”

  “Is that why you let her think you were dumb?” Zach asked. “You should have told her.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I figured out how to live with it.”

  By now they’d reached the house. Nate pulled into the driveway and shut the engine off.

  “I think Mom would like her,” Zach said.

  If he’d been hit by a two-by-four, Nate couldn’t have been more shocked. “What?”

  Zach turned back, all signs of teasing had vanished. “I think she’d like Emily, and I think she’d like knowing someone was going to be here with us after—” He trailed off and swallowed, the wise old man expression replaced by one of a lost little boy.

  Nate clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I know, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  Chapter Six

  The creature rose from the water. Seven tentacle-like arms stretched toward the small boat bobbing on the surface. The four teenagers in the raft had thought their boat sinking was the worst of the disaster. Now, a creature more hideous than a nightmare offered a much more terrible fate.

  A shrill alarm cut through the stillness. Emily’s head jerked up, her mind returning from the fantasy world she’d been trying to create. All thoughts of terrible sea creatures and lost teens vanished as she saw smoke pouring from the oven in great waves.

  With a startled cry, she jumped up from the stool and ran across the kitchen. She pulled the oven door open and more acrid smoke flooded out. Coughing, she reached for a dishtowel and clapped it over her face.

  With her free hand, she grabbed an oven mitt, reached inside for the pan, and then sprinted to the sink. She flipped up the handle on the faucet, and cold water gushed out. Then she took up the dishtowel and fanned it in front of the alarm, hoping to stop the shrieking. The ear-splitting wail was enough to make a person go deaf. Or wish they were.

  A door crashed in the dining area, and three hulking figures in full fire regalia rushed in. She screamed before realizing they were only firemen.

  “We had an alarm,” the one in the lead barked out.

  Emily conjured up a contrite smile. “Sorry. I lost track of time and left something in the oven too long. Who knew one cake could produce so much smoke, huh?”

  The lead firefighter blinked. “A cake?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I tried to get the a
larm to stop.”

  “Emily!”

  Great. Jessie. Emily cringed as her boss raced into the kitchen, nearly tripping over the firefighters.

  “What happened?” Jessie asked.

  “Only a little smoke,” Emily said.

  Jessie’s eyes slid toward the sink where the now sodden cake resided. “Sorry boys,” she said on a deep sigh. “Looks like we had a kitchen mishap.”

  The firemen gave Emily a dark look as they filed out of the room. She wanted to sink through the floor.

  Jessie walked over to the sink to inspect the damage. “Pan’s destroyed, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I had an idea all of a sudden and got distracted.”

  “The cake was on a timer.”

  “Guess I didn’t hear it.”

  “We need to talk,” Jessie said in a soft, resigned voice.

  Emily’s heart sank. She hated that phrase. Talking never ended well. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.

  “Oh, don’t start crying now,” Jessie said, alarm in her voice. “You and I both know a bakery isn’t the place for you. I knew when I hired you I was taking a gamble, but…”

  “A gamble? What do you mean?”

  Jessie fixed Emily with a let’s-get-real stare. “I could tell right off you didn’t have much experience, but something told me you needed this job. I guess I’m a soft case for people who are down on their luck. I didn’t even realize it until you looked at me with your sad eyes and babbled something about God and signs. I was willing to give you a chance, but I can’t ignore a fire.”

  “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  “Honey, either you’ve got the knack or you don’t. You don’t unfortunately. It’s like you and your writing. I couldn’t write a chapter, let along a whole book, if you put a gun to my head. Cooking isn’t your thing. No need to feel bad about it.”

  So why did Emily feel so ashamed? She hated failing, and she’d been doing nothing but failing for so long now. Emily took off her cooking smock and handed it over. “I’m sorry about your cake and the pan. I’ll pay for it.”

  “I’ve got more pans. Cake batter, too,” Jessie said. “Don’t think I failed to miss the fact that most of your earnings went back into the till.”