There was no guidebook for this.
“How’s Lilly? Or was it Layla?” Marco asked.
Since Joe had a different woman practically every other week, and juggled them as well, Marco couldn’t really be blamed. His brothers were two of a kind in that way. Dylan could handle only one woman at a time. Right now, the only woman on his mind was Charley and he only wished he could stop thinking about her for ten minutes.
“They’re all good,” Joe said with a smirk. “I don’t get any complaints.”
With great restraint, Dylan kept from asking Joe what he needed now. Instead, for the next few hours he talked shit with his brothers, ate pizza and drank beer. Marco encouraged Joe to apply in an open call next month for a position in the fire department. Dylan kept his mouth shut as that was usually a short conversation with Joe. He’d never been interested. Eventually, all talk of the fire department, women, food and classic cars exhausted, they settled in to watch Monster Trucks and Jay Leno’s Garage.
The next morning, Dylan woke, annoyed that it was ten o’clock and he was officially awake. He pounded his pillow into submission. His mind fully awake, he knew it was all downhill from there. Hitting the shower, he dressed and came out to the kitchen.
He found Joe asleep on the couch, laptop open, papers strewed about him.
“Hey,” Dylan said and poked him. “Thought you were going to sleep in the spare bedroom.”
Joe woke up with a start. He usually slept like the comatose and Dylan had prepared for a more aggressive wake-up call, but Joe sat up and rubbed his eyes.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and then quickly gathered up his papers. “Morning.”
Dylan started coffee, then leaned his hip against the counter while he waited for it to be done percolating. Joe joined him, straddling a stool.
“What have you got planned today?” Dylan asked.
“Gonna drop by and see Mom, then swing by the bakery for Miracle Sunday.”
“Good.” Coffee ready, Dylan poured them each a mug.
Joe took a swallow of black coffee and winced. “Hey, is it alright if I crash here for a little while? Maybe until after the party on the Fourth. Might as well stay since I’m already here.”
Every muscle in Dylan’s jaw tensed to the consistency of marble. It didn’t take a psychic to sense something was up. But if he brought it up now, Joe would be defensive. Dylan couldn’t very well complain that his brother wanted to spend more time with family. Even if he strongly believed something else was up.
“Yeah, sure.” Dylan grabbed the sugar bowl and creamer and slid it across the counter to Joe. “Everything okay?”
“It’s cool.” With that, he slammed down his coffee, stood and grabbed his skateboard. “Want something from the bakery?”
“Sure, get me a sugar raised and be sure to leave it where Marco can see it.” He grinned. Nothing annoyed Marco more than the “garbage” Dylan occasionally used for fuel.
Joe smirked. “Will do.”
6
“Stir things up.” ~ kitchen magnet
On the first Miracle Sunday since she’d been back, Charley hit her alarm and rolled out of bed with a grunt. Baker’s hours. She’d never been a morning person, and before winding up under the foster care of Coral Monroe, she’d considered 8 am to be way too early. By the time she graduated from high school, she’d gotten used to a 3 am wake-up time just as one grew accustomed to a wart. It was ugly but part of her life.
Charley’s apartment whenever she was in the city was nothing fancy, but it still remained the nicest place she’d ever lived in. The window opened to a view where in the distance she could see a hint of the glimmering bay’s port. She dressed, brushed her teeth, and used her key to check in on Milly across the hall. When she found her still asleep, Charley conveniently forgot to bring her half of the baby monitor down to the bakery.
Milly needed rest more than she needed another opportunity to micromanage Charley. All those early mornings helping out at the bakery on the weekends had come back to her. She and Milly didn’t get to sleep in like other teenagers. Coral gave them a pass most weekday mornings because of school, which she believed far more important, but weekends were fair game.
A few hours and many coffee cups later flour was everywhere and on everything. It got in her hair, her eyelashes and on her nose. Good times. But the aroma of fresh baked donuts, scones and crusty bread wafted heavy in the air. That scent, even more so than the fog and the salty bay breezes, reminded her of home.
She rubbed her hands together, dispensing of the extra flour. Another morning handled.
The DNA situation, however, wasn’t completely handled. If she listened to Dylan, she was done. She could find other ways. Maybe appeal to Milly’s sense of duty. Or…use threats and intimidation. That was one approach she hadn’t yet tried.
The phone rang, and Charley picked it up. “Good morning. Sunrise Bakery.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Milly said.
“You need your sleep. You and Bean both. Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”
“You do? Really?”
“Look, I’m going to pretend this isn’t hurting my feelings. You need anything?”
“No. I’m good. Though you should know, last night I had another psychic impression.”
“Oh boy.”
“Hey, I’m on a roll. But today’s not a bummed-out feeling. I’m feeling the love in the pastries. You’re putting it there.”
Charley sighed. “You are welcome.”
She hung up and went to flip the Closed sign to Open. Maybe later, when Naomi came by to relieve her, Charley would take a box of pastries to Dylan and his crew. Just like she used to do even before Dylan was ever a part of Firehouse 50. She hated when they argued. It wasn’t his fault that she had a ridiculous crush on him. The other night she’d have sworn there was a spark between them when he’d touched her. When he’d leaned in close. She’d hoped that the heat in his eyes wasn’t anger but desire.
But she was likely imagining it all again.
The first customer of the day was Padre Suarez. He was from the Mission Catholic Church several blocks away and still regularly came in and blessed the donuts for the week. It was an arrangement he’d long ago made with Coral and was practically another Miracle Bay tradition.
He walked to the glass display case, his hands clasped. “Buenos Dias, Mija. I’m here to bless the donuts.”
“And they’re ready for you.” Her hands swept over the case like the Vanna White of Miracle Bay.
Charley followed suit when Padre bent his head low and muttered a silent prayer, then made the sign of the cross.
“Two raspberry filled?” Charley reached for Padre’s favorite.
“Aha, you remembered.”
Donuts in hand, he shuffled over to one of the red Formica tables set against the one red brick wall of the shop. As the morning progressed, she served fresh baked croissants to Mrs. Luna and lemon scones for Mrs. Stephens.
“Are you back for good?” Mrs. Sorrento asked as she paid for her pink box filled with donut holes for the senior citizen center.
“No. Just until Milly’s back on her feet.”
“Can we do anything to talk you into staying?” Mrs. Sorrento winked.
Get Dylan to see me as more than his best friend? Or in other words perform a real miracle, and despite what all the elders said about Miracle Bay being the place for it, the so-called sunset kiss hadn’t “taken” for her and Dylan. No true love there. And all things considered, it was for the best that he never know about the kiss. Because if he ever found out what she’d done quite by accident, no doubt he wouldn’t appreciate it. He might think she’d been trying to trap him somehow. No, he couldn’t ever know.
“I’m going to say a rosary,” Padre Suarez offered.
“Thank you, Padre!” Mrs. Sorrento paid and waved goodbye.
If nothing else, it was nice to be appreciated and wanted by the senior set and a man in constant com
munication with God. She filled orders and chatted with more friends she hadn’t seen in some time. She wiped down tables, a lightness in her step. Tonight, she’d make Milly a pasta dish with her fabulous tomato cream sauce. They’d eat while watching the latest Netflix binge-worthy series. And then, when she had Milly fat and happy, she’d approach the subject of the baby daddy again.
After the morning rush, who should show up wearing a Santa Cruz beanie and his laidback surfer attitude than Joe Reyes. Little Joe Reyes who wasn’t so “little” anymore. At six feet or more of hunky male, he had his share of women after him, too. All the Reyes brothers did.
“Hey,” he said. “How’s it hanging?”
“Hi, you. In town long?” She knew Joe to float in and out of the city almost as much as she did.
“Crashing with Dylan and Marc for a little while.” He hovered over the glass counter, checking out her spread. “Gimme a couple of chocolate donuts with sprinkles and I’ll just sit right over there and chill.”
“Coming right up.”
Charley rang him up. Joe gave her a genuine smile and winked. Incurable flirt. But that was Joe, a good-looking guy every woman, and even some girls, considered a prize. If you could catch him. Of all the Reyes brothers, he was the one voted least likely to settle down. As a consequence, most wise women stayed away unless all they wanted was a good time. Joe was not the marrying kind. She wondered how long that luck would last him, and if he’d ever accidentally kiss someone at sunset, fall in love, or wind up knocking some girl—oh. No.
No, it couldn’t be. Right? Not Joe! Oh, Dylan would kill him. But it made sense. It had been staring her in the face the entire time. No wonder Milly wouldn’t tell her. She, along with way over half of the female population in their neighborhood, thought Joe was sex on a stick. Joe no longer lived in the city, but he came by frequently, Charley happened to know. Had they hooked up one night, and Milly wanted to spare Charley and the Reyes family the embarrassment of knowing how careless they’d been? Or maybe she just wanted to save Joe from the responsibilities that he clearly wasn’t prepared to face.
Yes, yes, that had to be it. Charley did the math. Joe was always home in November for Thanksgiving dinner. And that was exactly the month when Milly would have had to get knocked-up. Oh boy. This wasn’t good.
Joe wiped at his chin. “Do I have chocolate on me?”
Great, she was staring at him. Probably with a look of shock and disgust.
“No, you’re good.” She swallowed hard. “Would you excuse me for a minute? It’s slowed down and I’m going to go upstairs real quick and check on Milly.”
“Say hi for me.”
No reaction from Joe whatsoever to the mention of Milly. She ran up the steps to Milly’s apartment and threw open the door to find Milly sitting on the futon, holding a mirror close to her face, Rufus curled up at her feet as usual.
“Everything people say about pregnancy is a bald-faced lie!” She held up the mirror and shook it. “I’m definitely not glowing!”
“Are you having a feeling right now? A psychic impression?”
Her forehead crinkled, and she rubbed her belly. “No. Why? Did something happen?”
“Joe is here,” Charley said significantly. “Joe Reyes.”
Rufus lifted his head up and hissed, as if the very sound of Joe’s name made him mad.
“Oh, yeah? Say hi for me.”
“Funny, that’s just what he said. ‘Say hi for me.’” Charley held up finger quotes. “He’s downstairs. Right now. Having his donuts.”
Milly went from wrinkled brow to wrinkled nose. “What else would he be doing on Miracle Sunday? Joe knows where to find a bargain.”
“Is that all you’re going to say about it?”
“About what?”
“Joe. I mean, he could easily come up here and eat his donuts with you. You two could talk. Maybe that would be the right thing to do.” Charley went hands on hips.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re being mega weird right now.”
“Am I? Is it Joe? Is he the one?”
Milly threw the mirror to the side. “Wow. Just wow. You’re going off the deep end. No, it’s not Joe!”
“It’s just that I remember you used to have a little thing for Joe.”
“Please. I got over that crush years ago.” She pointed to her belly. “And I’m a little busy here?”
Charley waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, of course. You’ve got a bean in there.”
“Right.”
Even though Charley couldn’t read Joe, she certainly could read Milly. Her face, her eyes, everything about her choreographed, “business as usual.” She wasn’t lying. Clearly, he wasn’t the father. She could easily collect his DNA sample just to be on the safe side. But thanks to Dylan, she felt guilty even thinking about it.
“I guess I better get back down there.” Charley pointed. “Maybe talk to Joe a bit. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“O-kaay.” Milly’s tone said that she still believed Charley to be acting like a fool.
And she definitely…probably was, but c’mon! How else was she to find this magical woodland creature? Charley rushed back down the steps to find Joe behind the counter, arms splayed along the glass case, flirting with one of the customers.
“I’ve been staying in Santa Cruz,” he said to a redhead Charley didn’t recognize. “You should hit me up when you get back. We’ll kick the surf.”
The woman shamelessly batted her eyelashes and tossed her hair. “I will.”
“Excuse me,” Charley said, finding her place behind the counter and not so subtly shoving Joe out. “Can I help you?”
“You don’t work here?” The woman said to Joe, as he joined her on the customer side.
“Just filling in.” He grinned, winked, and hands in the pockets of his board shorts, strode back to his table.
“I heard this neighborhood is called Miracle Bay,” the woman said to Charley. “And that if you kiss a guy at sunset, you might find your one true love.”
Some people. But maybe sometimes your true love wasn’t the one you actually wanted it to be. Life was funny that way. “That’s right. And best of all, today is Miracle Sunday so every second pastry is free.”
“Deal!”
Charley helped the woman to a dozen Miracle Sunday donuts, and then several more customers. Coral always said that she made her money back and then some by offering the second donut free. She’d been a marketing genius, her foster mother. But also way too strict, especially with Milly. She hadn’t been allowed to date much at all, other than boys pre-approved far enough in advance. Charley had aged out of the system and left home at eighteen, tired of living by Coral’s impossible rules.
But Milly had stayed and gone to college locally rather than leave the city. The dutiful daughter. The good sister and friend. She’d always been there for Charley, rarely asking for anything in return. Now Milly was in a jam. She would need the baby’s father in the picture sooner rather than later. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed Charley to fix this. She needed Charley to make sure she wouldn’t raise this child alone.
The shop door chimed and in walked Charley’s worst nightmare. Jenny Santana had been two years ahead of Charley in school, but decades ahead in popularity. She’d been one of the mean girls in high school that taunted Charley. Today she rocked a pair of jeans that looked painted on her long legs. They tapered down to sexy ankle boots with four-inch heels. This made her look a bit like an Amazon, given the fact that she was already fashion model tall without the heels. The latest color of her hair, which seemed to change seasonally, was platinum blonde a la Marilyn Monroe.
But the worst thing about Jenny, hands down, was how she relentlessly went after Dylan. They’d gone out once in high school, and Jenny never seemed to tire of the idea that one day they’d get back together. One day she’d kiss him at sunset and find out they were each other’s true love (Jenny wholeheartedly believed in
the legend.) They’d get married, together forever, and make many Reyes babies. Charley only knew this because Jenny told everyone who would listen. Worse, she seemed to think that Charley could make this happen because of her influence on Dylan.
“Hey, Charley,” Jenny said, sashaying to the counter.
Charley pasted on her customers-only fake and toothy smile. “The usual?”
“Let me have a coffee today. Black. I’m on a diet.”
Charley wrinkled her nose. “Since when?”
“Since Cosmo said that a few extra pounds could kill your sexual mojo.”
Charley tried not to snort at the mojo comment. Please. Jenny had enough sexual mojo to light up the west coast of the United States. If Charley could have half of her mojo, she’d be happy and satisfied. She served up a drip coffee, slapped on a lid, and rang Jenny up.
“So…Dylan. How’s he doing?”
“I don’t know, Jenny, you should tell me. I just got back.”
Of course, they both knew Dylan didn’t talk to Jenny so much as he slid her the same hot looks that every other living and breathing male did.
“Funny. Don’t try to pretend you’re not the ultimate 411 on Dylan Reyes.”
True. She should not pretend that. “What do you want to know?”
“Is he dating anyone?” She leaned in close.
“Has that ever bothered you?”
“Catch me a break here. I’m just trying to gage my chances with him. Dylan always gives me the sultry, I-want-to-eat-you-alive looks, but he’s never done anything about it.”
Charley winced at the thought of Dylan giving Jenny those types of looks, which he’d never once given Charley, and threw a dishtowel over her shoulder. Glamour city here. “Let me get this straight. You want me to find out why Dylan hasn’t asked you out?”
“Is he dating one of my friends? Or is there…something wrong with him?”
Charley’s spine straightened in indignation at the suggestion there could be anything wrong with the dark and edgy dreamboat simply because he didn’t want to hook up with Jenny.
The Accidental Kiss Page 4