by Susan Hatler
“Okay . . .” I laughed, shaking my head. It seemed like this man had a talent for making me smile. Not good, Avery. So not good. “Well, thanks for helping me with dinner along with everything else. You know this meal is supposed to be thanking you for your help at Founding Friendships yesterday. I’m supposed to be treating you. Not the other way around.”
He swept a stray carrot off his hand and into his mouth. “It’s a treat to be here with you, Avery.”
“How can that be?” I asked, my heart rate kicking up as we stared at each other.
“I don’t know.” He kept his gaze locked on mine. “But it’s the truth.”
I swallowed hard against the swell of emotion that washed over me. I was falling way too hard way too fast. Biting my lip, I turned away to put the chicken in to roast and told myself the heat in my cheeks was from the oven. Any other reason would be way too dangerous to acknowledge. The man made me feel giddy, which was totally unlike me. The silence that followed felt awkward, now that we didn’t have meal prep to keep us occupied.
“How about we decorate some cupcakes?” I suggested.
“I’m game,” he said. He seemed up to anything. There had to be a catch. Nobody was this perfect. Were they?
When I turned back to him, he was smiling at me like he had been before, but there was something lingering behind his eyes that I couldn’t read. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Then I went to the refrigerator where I knew we’d put some cupcakes from earlier in the day.
I pulled the container of cupcakes out and set them on the counter, before gathering the ingredients to make a batch of vanilla buttercream frosting.
“Can I help?” he asked.
As I tipped the butter into the mixer, I shook my head. “I’ve got it. You’ve already helped way too much tonight.”
“I’m glad to help.”
Yeah, that was what worried me. “Just relax. Please.”
“Okay . . .” He grabbed a stool, pulling it up to the counter where the mixer was churning away. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” I avoided his gaze, my heart pounding, I added powdered sugar to the bowl.
“Why are you living here?” he asked.
I glanced at him, so startled that I dropped the bag of powdered sugar, which puffed up into the air, coating the mixer, the counter, and both of us. I coughed, letting the question hang in the air, much like the powdered sugar. I’d tried to forget that he’d discovered my secret, but now I couldn’t avoid that embarrassing fact any longer.
Finally, I wiped the sugar off my cheeks, and sighed. Turning back to the mixer, I resumed adding the sugar to the frosting. “I’m in between places right now. My apartment complex turned into condos and I couldn’t afford to buy,” I said, figuring the jig was so up that I may as well tell the whole truth. “Hotels are expensive, so I’m just staying here temporarily. I haven’t been able to find a new place yet, but hopefully soon.”
“Why haven’t you told Melinda?” he asked softly.
“I don’t want her to worry,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at him. “She already had so much going on in her life and now she has the wedding, too. She cares so much about her friends that she’d worry big time.”
“She does care about people,” he said, giving me a look that I couldn’t read.
Since I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what his look meant, I didn’t ask. Instead, I added some vanilla to the bowl and let the mixer finish. When I was satisfied with the consistency of the frosting, I turned the mixer off and began spooning the contents into two pastry bags. “You told Melinda you were in town for work. What do you do?” I asked.
“Property management and acquisition,” he said, his tone flat.
“Sounds like you love it,” I joked.
He shrugged. “It pays the bills.”
“How did you get into that kind of work? I mean, it’s not like a kid with a black room dreams about going into property management and acquisition,” I said, thinking his job sounded pretty important.
“True.” He glanced away for a moment and then leaned against the counter, propping his chin on his fist with a faraway look. “I wanted to be a biology teacher.”
“Really? How come you didn’t pursue that career?” I asked, thinking of how good he’d been with Nico and Nora. He would’ve made a great teacher. Although, he was probably good at whatever he did with his current job. The man seemed to have many talents. “Ready to help?” I asked, handing him a pastry bag.
“I’m in, but . . .” His eyes widened and he looked at the bag like he’d never seen something so complicated. “How exactly do I do this?”
“I’ll show you,” I said, pulling out a cupcake from the storage container. I began swirling the frosting into a neat mountain. He watched me and then tried frosting one that I’d placed in front of him. The frosting came out in a big blob, making me giggle.
“Shoot a guy while he’s down. Harsh,” he said, wearing a sexy grin. Then he reached out and brushed my nose with the back of his finger. “Powdered sugar,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly breathless. We stared at each other for a long moment, the electricity between us palpable. I cleared my throat. “You didn’t tell me why you chose not to become a biology teacher.”
His eyes darkened. “My college girlfriend,” he said, making the words sound dirty.
“How did she stand in your way?” I asked, feeling a little jealous over her, which was silly. The man had dated her almost a decade ago. But the reminder didn’t help the knot that had formed in my belly.
“Cara wanted to be with someone who could provide her with a certain lifestyle. A biology teacher didn’t cut it in her book.”
My chest constricted at the sadness flickering through his eyes. “Huh.”
“I thought she was the one, so I went into property management and acquisition,” Jason said, shrugging. “One of my professors got me an internship with the company I work for now. I was good at the job, but Cara ended up dumping me for a guy from her boating club. I liked my boss and my job, so it all turned out okay in the end.”
“She didn’t deserve you.” The words came out firm since his ex sounded materialistic and shallow. I had the strong urge to give this woman a solid piece of my mind for mixing him up like that. It seemed obvious she’d hurt him.
“Second try,” I said, handing another cupcake to him. I realized my words took on a double meaning, but I wasn’t going to take them back.
“Yes, boss,” he said, a little flutter tingling my belly as he tried frosting this next cupcake. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he worked, which was pretty much the most adorable thing I’d ever seen—and I’d once spent twenty minutes watching nothing but videos of baby goats in pajamas. That didn’t come close to what I saw from him.
On this pass he spread the frosting into a decent mound of buttercream.
“Major improvement on the frosting, by the way. You can use any of these toppings to decorate it if you want.” I gestured to the little bowls of sprinkles, beads, and candy pieces. “Do you still like your job?”
“Well enough.” He reached into a bowl and pulled out some chopped candy bar pieces, arranging them on the top of the cupcake. “It’s not what I pictured myself doing for the rest of my life, but I don’t think a job has to define one’s life. I think the meaning in my life comes from almost everything but my job.”
“That’s an interesting point,” I said, thinking about how much meaning Founding Friendships gave to my life. And spending time with my friends. I sprinkled toppings on my cupcake, and smiled. “My job actually gives meaning to my life too, though. I love working here.”
“That’s definitely a bonus,” he said, holding up his cupcake and showing me the smiley face he had arranged. “What do you think?”
The smiley face was lopsided and off center, but it was cute how hard he had worked on it. “It’s perfect.” I smiled, and then glanced at the cloc
k. “Dinner should be ready soon.”
“Would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked, locking his gaze to mine.
“We’re having dinner right now.” My mouth opened slightly as I paused. The offer of a date tempted me. I had so much fun hanging out with him last night at Founding Friendships and now here at the bakery. But I sighed. “What would be the point? You’re leaving to go back home in a week. It’s not like this can go anywhere.”
“Honestly? I can’t stop thinking about you, Avery.” He raked his hand through his hair and then leaned toward me. “I’m probably saying too much, but ever since I walked into the bakery and saw you I just can’t get you out of my mind. I’m losing sleep thinking about you.”
My stomach flipped at his words. I wanted to tell him that thinking of him kept me up at night, too, but I bit my lip instead. He looked so sweet and vulnerable that I couldn’t resist him anymore. So, I closed the space between us and pressed a hand to his cheek. Looking into his eyes, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
He stilled for a moment as if I’d caught him off guard, which I probably had since I’d definitely caught myself off guard. Was I really kissing a guy who would be leaving town in a week for good? Oh, yes. I definitely was doing that. But his lips felt so good. His tongue met mine and my belly did a cartwheel, causing every cell in my body to come alive.
He slipped his arms around me, drawing me closer as he kissed me more deeply. His lips were warm and he tasted like vanilla. Sweet and delicious. A little moan escaped me as we kissed again and again until I finally pulled back, breathless. Oh, wow.
After pulling away, I felt a hole in his absence and wanted to kick myself for breaking the kiss. But my growing feelings overwhelmed me and I didn’t know what to make of them. Although, one thing I did know right now was that I wanted to kiss him again.
“Will you let me take you out to dinner?” he whispered. “On a real date?”
“Yes,” I said, despite all of my reasons to say no. And then I pressed my lips to his, getting lost in another amazing kiss that I never wanted to end.
Chapter Six
The loud knocking sounds came from the front door of Bernie’s Bakery Monday morning just as I was putting a batch of raspberry cheesecake muffins into the oven. I’d been thinking about Jason and the date we’d made for Wednesday night. Apparently he had some business things all day today and tomorrow, so there was no way it could be him at the door.
Plus, we’d agreed that our date would be going out to dinner, not breakfast.
I wiped my hands on the towel that I had tucked into the apron tied around my leggings. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I frowned. It was only five in the morning on Monday and we didn’t open until six. Who would arrive at the bakery so early? For a moment, I imagined bandits and burglars. Oh, my. I peered into the dark café dining room where I could see a figure lurking outside the front door. The hairs at the back of my neck prickled. A robber!
Get a grip, Avery. This was a bakery, not a bank vault. Picking up a wooden mixing spoon—to use as a weapon, just in case—I crept out into the dining room. Being careful to dodge around the tables, I called, “We don’t open for another hour. You’ll have to come back then.”
“Please, Avery? It’s just me, Erica! I could really use a cup of coffee.”
“Erica Conner?” I asked, my eyebrows lifting as I moved closer to the door. Seeing my favorite yoga instructor standing outside the front door with her hands clasped in a pleading gesture made all of the tension ease from my muscles and I giggled a little at my paranoia. Shaking my head, I unlocked the front door.
“Thanks! It’s cold out.” Erica slipped inside and then bent down to retrieve something she must’ve dropped on the floor. I glanced out onto the still-dark street, and relocked the front door. Despite the fact that there weren’t any customers lined up yet, didn’t mean they wouldn’t come in early if they found the door open. It had happened before.
If I didn’t know exactly what was in our baked goods, I’d have to wonder if we didn’t slip something addictive into them. They were that delicious.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked.
“I’m sorry to bug you.” Erica let out a sigh and leaned her elbows against the counter I’d scooted behind in order to pour her a cup of the coffee that had just finished percolating. “I couldn’t sleep. My grandmother is in the hospital.”
“You’re not bugging me,” I said, the corners of my mouth turning downward. “I’m so sorry to hear about your grandma. Is it bad?”
“Gram will be okay,” she said, nodding, as if to reassure herself that the words were true. “She always is, but I wish she would take better care of herself.” She dropped a white envelope on the counter between us, and then pushed it toward me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “No idea. The envelope was on the floor when I came in. Someone must have pushed it through the mail slot. Maybe an advertisement?”
“Maybe,” I said, noting it didn’t have any bright colors or “act fast” slogans on the front. I set the envelope aside on the counter, knowing I still had a lot to do before the bakery opened. “I have to get back to the kitchen. Want to grab your coffee and come back with me?”
“I’m in.” She sipped her coffee, and followed me into the back. The timer on the counter dinged as we entered the kitchen.
I pulled my first batch of cupcakes out, immediately reminding me of frosting cupcakes with Jason, and all of those sweet kisses. It turned out kissing Jason and agreeing to a date hadn’t made me able to sleep better. In fact, I’d tossed on the office couch thinking about the feel of his mouth on mine until the wee hours of the morning.
Setting the cupcakes aside to cool, I turned my attention to the banana bread batter that I’d been prepping when Erica had knocked on the door. I could feel the nervous energy radiating off of her in waves. As I stirred in the mashed bananas, I tried to make sense of the jumble of thoughts in my head.
“I’m sorry to just show up so early,” Erica said, slipping onto the very stool that Jason had occupied the night before. “I’m just so worried about my grandmother. She’s always been there for me, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. If I lost her now . . .”
My heart squeezed and I could feel her pain. “It’s hard when you rely on someone to be your guiding light and then they are gone,” I said, knowing all too well what that was like.
“Yes, exactly.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m not ready yet. I feel like she’d have so many good years ahead of her if she would take care of herself better.”
“Tell me about your grandma,” I said.
“She loves to play Bingo,” she said, a warm smile spreading across her pretty face. “She plays at least two or three times a week.” Her smile sagged a little. “I think that’s one of the hardest things about being in the hospital. She’s not able to do all her favorite activities.”
“That’s tough,” I said, wondering what it would be like to have family that I was so close to. The only family I had was my mom, who I phoned on occasion, even though she usually just complained about her latest husband for the entire call.
“When my grandpa got sick, it was so hard on Gram.” Erica squeezed her mug between her hands. “They were still in love after over fifty years of marriage. His memory started to go, but she was so patient with him. She set up the same Monopoly game every day, re-explaining the rules every time, just because he loved to play.”
“That’s sweet.”
She nodded. “He got frustrated and cranky when he couldn’t do everything he once had, but she stayed so patient with him.”
“Wow,” I said, putting the banana bread mixture into the oven. Thinking about Erica’s grandmother’s acts of love and kindness toward her grandfather made me think of Jason. Would he and I be like that after fifty years?
Wait, that was a crazy thought! Jason and I hadn’t even had
our first real date. My face heated and I hoped Erica didn’t notice. I turned my attention to the second batch of banana bread batter in front of me. Pouring the mix into another loaf pan, I thought about how calmly Jason had explained things to the kids and other residents at Founding Friendships the other day. His generosity had made the kids’ day brighter.
“I have an idea,” I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth before the thought had fully formed. “Do you bake?”
“Uh, not that much,” she said, seeming confused by the question.
“No problem.” I waved my hand dismissively. “You don’t have to do a thing.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, as I crossed the kitchen to slide another pan of banana bread in the oven to bake.
I grinned as the plan solidified in my mind. “Can you stop by the bakery later? I’ll have a special treat for your grandma.”
She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “That’s so sweet, Avery. But, part of my grandma’s problem is all of the sugar intake in her food.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, understanding completely. “I can make it sugar free.”
“In that case, I can totally come back later,” she said, her smile lifting again. “Now I’m intrigued as to what you have up your sleeve, er, I mean apron.”
“As you should be,” I said, with a grin.
She glanced at her watch. “Whoa. Is that really the time? Yikes! I need to get going or I’ll be late for my first class at Totally Fit.”
She hopped off the stool, and crossed the kitchen to put her coffee cup in the sink. “Thanks for the company this morning. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.” My voice was firm and I hoped she knew how much I meant that. “In my opinion, the best thing you can do for your grandma is to be there for her. You’re already doing that and it’s the best way to let her know how important she is to you.”
“Thanks, Avery. I needed that,” she said, giving me a quick hug before dashing toward the exit with a little more spring in her step.
I walked out to the front of the bakery with her. After I let her out and locked the door again, I headed back behind the counter to start filling the napkin dispensers. Before I could get started, though, the envelope that Erica had brought in caught my eye.