Delivering History (The Freehope Series Book 4)

by Jenni M. Rose

“It’s a niche market,” he told her with a smirk. “And you bake.”

  Remembering her special batch of croissants, she pulled the plate wrapped in plastic and held it out to him.

  “Chocolate croissants for my Knight in Shining Coffee.”

  He took them but his dark eyes never left hers, intent and unwavering.

  “I would have done anything to meet the Bad Girl of Sweet Sisters.”

  There was that hashtag again, the one Jenna had picked out just for her. She’d said it would be catchy, and damned if the kid wasn’t right.

  “Oh my God,” she said with a laugh. “Please don’t call me that.”

  “It fits,” he reasoned.

  They stood there, grinning at each other in the middle of the coffee shop.

  “So…” she said, holding her empty basket and sipping her coffee. “Don’t you have to go to work or something?”

  Dylan checked his watch and look up, resigned. “I do. Same time tomorrow?”

  Alex resisted a giggle because that so wasn’t her but it almost bubbled out anyway.

  “I’ll be here, she said. “No croissants though. Not until I can find a better supplier who has quality chocolate. Not that commercial crap.”

  He looked down at the pastries in his hand and then back to her. “I’ll like them no matter what you use but I won’t expect anything. Just to see you.”

  She tilted her head and assessed him, wondering what he was thinking. He hadn’t asked for her number. He hadn’t asked her out. He’d just placed himself squarely in her path.

  With a smirk, she took a step back toward the door.

  “Tomorrow then.”

  He nodded, rooted to his spot. “Tomorrow.”

  2

  “So?”

  Jenna stood in front of her aunt Thursday night, having made a special trip to Alex’s house, just to see how things had gone at the coffee shop.

  “So, what?” Alex asked, playing dumb, but Jenna wasn’t having any of it.

  “So, tell me about Mr. Coffee. Did he like the croissants?”

  Alex shrugged. “I gave them to him. He didn’t try one but he better like them. If not, he’s a dolt and I’m not interested in dolts.”

  “You’re interested in him already,” Jenna argued, washing her hands and beginning to bag lemon squares for Friday’s delivery. “Did you talk more?”

  Alex shrugged. “A little.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Maybe a little more than that.”

  Jenna huffed. “Are you being a pain on purpose?”

  “I am,” Alex admitted with a laugh. “Just seeing how long you’d play along. Turns out, you have the patience of…me.”

  “That’s what I hear,” Jenna confirmed.

  “He was good.” It was benign as far as explanations went and she admitted as much. “That’s not true. He was spectacular. The man wears a suit. Like three-piece suit, vest, and tie—the works and he makes it look good. And he laughs, J. Like laughs, laughs. None of those manly chuckles like Spencer because he can’t bring himself to find something funny. No, Dylan laughs.”

  “Dylan, huh? Do we have a last name?”

  Alex shook her head. “No last name.”

  “Well, when you get one, let me know. I’m like the FBI of social media. I’ll find him and we can totally stalk him.”

  “Seriously?” Alex asked, surprised.

  Jenna looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Like she was a total has-been, too old to understand how people did things nowadays.

  “Of course,” Jenna said. “We’ll check everything, make sure he looks legit.”

  “He looks legit alright,” Alex told her niece, fanning herself. “Totally legit.”

  Jenna laughed and bumped her aunt’s shoulder. “So, you’re seeing him again tomorrow?”

  “So he said. We’ll see if he shows or if I scared him away with my rambling.” She sent an embarrassed look at her niece. “I might have gone on a tangent about your mom and Beth and Uncle Spencer, like I had verbal diarrhea.”

  Jenna giggled, a sweet sound that made Alex smile and sounded cute coming from a teenager.

  “One thing I didn’t inherit from you, thankfully.” Yes, she had, but Alex wasn’t going to point that out.

  They finished bagging the lemon squares and moved onto wrapping small loaves of banana bread. They worked in silence for a long time, used to being together without the pressure of filling every moment with words. Alex felt similar when she was with Andy. They’d spent so much time together, they were comfortable enough in their silence. Their companionship was enough to fill that space.

  “Softball start soon?” Alex asked, wondering what was coming in the spring season for her niece.

  Jenna had been playing sports for years. Hockey had just ended and while she loved playing, softball was where her heart was. She looked forward to softball the most every year.

  “In a few weeks,” Jenna confirmed. “First week of April we start spring training. Working on tryouts next week.”

  “Yeah? How’re the upcoming girls looking?”

  “Good,” Jenna said with a shrug. “Young.”

  Alex laughed. “You’re all young. Enjoy it while you can. Before you know it, you’ll be old like me and your mom, wondering where all the years went, wishing it all back.”

  “Coach said to look out for scouts this year.” Jenna paused, long and thoughtful. “For college,” she clarified.

  Alex wasn’t surprised. “You’ve worked hard for that. Just play like you always do and don’t worry about the rest.”

  “Life will show me which way I’m supposed to go?” Jenna asked with a raised brow, calling back Alex’s earlier advice.

  “More like, life will throw you which way you should go, and you better be ready to hang on to your hat when it does because the ride is usually bumpy as hell.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Jenna replied. “I’m scared to death I’m going to screw it up, get stage fright or something, and totally blow it.”

  “You won’t,” Alex told her confidently. “You thrive under the pressure and like to put on a show. You get that from Beth.”

  “Seems like I got a little bit from all of you.”

  “The best of the Walker women combined.”

  “What could go wrong?” Jenna asked with a smirk.

  “You know how to spoil a girl,” Alex said to Dylan when she pulled up to Boston Beans and, instead of handing her a coffee, reached into her trunk and took out the basket of baked goods.

  “I aim to please,” he said, hefting it out and waiting for her to close the lid and head into the shop.

  “You’re on a roll so far,” she told him.

  He shouldered into the store and obediently waited, holding the basket as she unloaded her things into the display case. Everything, save one strawberry rugala had sold. She took that one and put it in the basket.

  Dylan snatched it up, examining it.

  “You tried one yet?” she asked, putting more wares in the display case.

  He shook his head, still eyeing it.

  “Do you like strawberries?” She looked up at him, waiting for an answer.

  He nodded.

  “Then you’ll like it,” she told him. “Take it with you.”

  “I’ll buy it,” he said.

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Take the damn pastry, Dylan.”

  His eyes widened and he smiled. “Bossy,” he commented.

  She shrugged. “That may have been said about me before.”

  “Doesn’t bother me,” he told her as she finished setting everything out. He led her to the coffee line and ordered a straight black coffee and stood back, deferring to her when it was time to place her order.

  She felt bad, Beth’s words ringing in her ears as she considered ordering a half-caff like she wanted. It was okay once in a while, she’d told herself, but not something she could do every day.

  “Decaf tall,” she told the barista.<
br />
  Dylan said nothing, just waited patiently next to her until he pulled some bills out to cover the coffees.

  Alex didn’t offer to pay, letting him take care of it. She was a strong, independent woman, but she wasn’t stupid either. She’d let Dylan take her to coffee any day of the week.

  “Back to decaf?” he asked, standing by, assessing her as she put cream and sugar in her coffee.

  “For now,” she hedged, not bothering to explain about the baby growing inside her or Beth’s concerns. It felt like a small deception but not one that mattered either way at this point.

  Besides, she was just barely out of the first trimester and things still felt too unreal. Like maybe anything could change at any time. And she knew, from everything she’d read, that they could. Her body could reject the pregnancy, especially in the first trimester. It seemed almost a jinx to talk about the successful implantation. Instead, she, Beth, and Logan let the small victory go largely unspoken, hoping to make it to more stable ground.

  Dylan was watching her expectantly.

  “So, playing hooky from work again this morning?” she asked, changing the subject. “No other damsels to run off and save?”

  “Just the one,” he said with a nod. “And she’s my favorite, by far. I mean, leaving her to go to work seems like a tragedy.”

  She let out a laugh at his dramatic tone. “She’s got her own work to do anyway.”

  “More Bad Girl sweets to make?”

  She shook her head and marveled. “You love that Bad Girl hashtag, don’t you?”

  “Kind of,” he admitted, holding a hand to the small of her back as he walked her out of the shop. “And I can see it too, you know. Like maybe there are sweeter sisters than you, but you, you’re the bad girl of the bunch. Whoever does your marketing is a genius.”

  Alex thought about Jenna, creating that hashtag, sure that it was a winner. “I wouldn’t argue that point.”

  He seemed to consider her answer, then looked down at her. “Anyone I can poach for my own?”

  She bumped him with a mock offended gasp. “You’d steal my people from me?”

  “I don’t play to lose,” he said. “If they’re the best, then they’re who I want.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. She just got her driver’s license last month and could probably get to Boston if you offered her a job. Course, you’d have to ask her parents and wait until she gets out of high school.” She sent him a humorous look. “In two years. She’s only a sophomore.”

  “Are you kidding?” he asked.

  “Jenna, my niece. She does my marketing stuff. She’s a total whiz at it.”

  “She’s got a knack,” he told her. “She’ll be in advertising someday.”

  “She made my logo and did all my branding. She’s the smartest kid on the planet.”

  He laughed. “Not that you’re biased.”

  They walked down the block, even passing her car and just strolling casually, side by side.

  “Oh no, I’m totally biased.” She reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone, pulling up a few pictures of Jenna and letting him look. She showed him a picture of herself and Jenna at last year’s Thanksgiving, holding up two pies each, both of them beaming. “She’s amazing. Smart and funny. Kind as the day is long, that one. Gets it from her mother.”

  He drank the picture in, his eyes searching, seeming to take in every detail.

  “Those pies look almost as delicious as the woman that made them,” he said, his voice husky.

  Alex’s eyes shot to his, surprised.

  “Yes, I’m talking about you,” he confirmed. “You have to know I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Delicious,” she muttered. “You said delicious.”

  He laughed. “I did and I meant it.”

  “You can’t say that,” she said. “I don’t even know your last name.”

  “James. Dylan James.” He held out a hand to shake again, taking hers before she even offered it. “And you’re Alexa. Alex. Lexi…” He let the list of names trail off.

  “Walker,” she supplied, filling in the blank.

  “I’ve got to say, I like Lexi too. Your sister might be onto something there.” He gently pumped her hand up and down. “Lexi Walker. Sounds like a Bad Girl to me.”

  “Well, don’t go expecting me to roll up here next week on a Harley with a basket of cookies on the front,” she told him. “I’m not exactly the bad girl you might think I am.” She thought about the baby again. “In fact, I might just be the least bad girl you’ve ever met.”

  “Might be,” he agreed. “Still, I like the idea. Now I’ll never unsee you riding a motorcycle dressed in all leather, wielding baked goods.”

  She shook her head as they rounded a corner, coming back to the coffee shop after walking the block.

  “So, Dylan James. Do you work around here?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t. I actually only come to this shop twice a week to get my weekly sweets fix.”

  “Really?” Her head popped up, taking him in. Alex had struggled the last few years to make her love of baking work, to make it into something that might be a career for her. She’d worked at restaurants and catering but it had been an uphill battle. She’d even taken a regular teaching gig at the culinary school, enjoying her time teaching but yearning to bake for people.

  “Yeah, really,” he confirmed, then pointed to a tall building in the skyline. “I work in there. I run an investment firm. Well, not just me but my partners and I.”

  “That sounds…” she trailed off.

  “Boring?” His handsome face was scrunched into an almost wince, like he knew it was coming.

  “Like a lot of numbers,” she corrected gently. “Not my strong suit.”

  “You must deal with numbers too. Doubling recipes and what not?”

  She just raised a brow at him. “Not exactly the same.”

  “No. It’s not.” He just stood there, one hand holding his coffee, the other in his pocket, jingling some change. “So. What are the chances you’ll give me your number? That way I can take you on a real date sometime.”

  Alex looked at him out of the side of her eye, her cheeks heating. “You’re the numbers guy. You tell me.”

  “I like my odds,” he told her.

  “I think you’ll like this too.” Alex opened her big purse, rummaging through it before handing him her coffee with a huff and digging back in, finally coming out with her business card. She handed it to him. “My cell is on there. You know, in case you want to call me for a real date sometime.”

  He held it between his fingers, inspecting and examining the card.

  “You’re telling me a teenager came up with this?”

  He flipped over her business card so she could see it, a caricature of herself in an apron and chef’s hat. She’d been partial to it from the get go, the cartoon an exaggeration but a sexy one.

  “She did. Drew it herself.”

  He looked at it again.

  “Damn,” he muttered, shoving it in his breast pocket, then reaching into his own wallet and handing her a card.

  It was nothing like hers, totally nondescript.

  It just had his name and phone number under the names Charles, Greene, James, and Harrison.

  “Not as exciting as yours, but you can reach me at the office.”

  Alex felt a flare of annoyance. She’d given him her personal number and he’d given her his office extension? What did that mean? She glanced up at him and then dropped the card into her purse, a no-man’s land of junk she collected.

  “Sure,” she told him, taking a step back.

  It could have been her hormones, totally out of whack, because he still made her feel warm and tingly. But now she felt irritated too, wondering what the hell she was doing flirting with Dylan James anyway. She was a small-town baker, pregnant with someone else’s baby. What the hell did she think she was going to do? Get into a relationship with the guy? Hell, in a few months she’d have
a belly so big she wouldn’t be able to see her feet, let alone be in any condition to be gallivanting with anyone.

  “I’ve got to get going,” she told him, taking another step away.

  “Lexi,” he said, clearly sensing her shift in mood. “Everything okay?”

  She shook her head but couldn’t choke the right words out, couldn’t tell him that she couldn’t see him again.

  “I’m good,” she lied.

  “You’ll call me?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said again, the lie settling between them like lead. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew, could see right through her, and it made her feel like throwing up.

  Actually, she just felt like throwing up in general.

  Oh, no, that was something totally different. That was morning sickness turning her stomach and creeping up her esophagus. She could just picture her face turning green, the look on Dylan’s face confirming her fears.

  “I’ve got to go.” She barely got the words out, hurrying away, right past her car and into the coffee shop. She raced to the bathroom and barely made it in time to lose the coffee Dylan had bought her and everything she had eaten for breakfast.

  When she came out of the restroom, he was gone.

  Dylan wasn’t sure what happened with Alex, but she’d turned on a dime, going from open and flirtatious to glacial in a heartbeat. He’d felt the shift in mood instantly, like a wall of steel coming down between them. He could see her and hear her, but she was untouchable, her bright blue eyes sparkling with something that definitely wasn’t akin to happiness.

  She’d dropped his business card in her bag without care, as if he hadn’t seen what a mess it was in there. If she put it in there, there was a good chance she never intended to take it out again.

  He waited for her outside of the shop, wondering what had happened. After she’d turned cold, she almost instantaneously turned green, a wave of apparent sickness coming over her.

  He was standing by her car when his phone rang and he picked it up without looking.

  “James,” he said, still watching the window of the shop, waiting for Lexi to come out.

  “You planning on coming to work today or did you find something better to do?” His partner, Lincoln Greene, asked casually.