“Daniel!” his mother yells, her eyes wide and cheeks pink with embarrassment. “What in the world? Ask Aspen for a rag to clean this up.”
“Sowwy,” Daniel says. He’s not sorry. But I grab a rag and walk around to where he’s standing.
“I’ve got this.”
“He should clean it up.”
“He’s three,” I remind Cindy with a shrug and a sympathetic smile. I remember what it’s like to have a toddler. “I’ve got it.”
I quickly wipe up the mess. When I turn back around, I see Gretchen looking at her phone with a corny smile on her face.
“Don’t tell me.”
“I met someone,” she says.
“I said, don’t tell me.”
Gretchen laughs as she tucks her phone back into her pocket. “His name is Miles Johnson. Do you know him?”
I frown, searching my memory. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Is he a fireman?”
“No,” she says and casually reaches for some tongs to move muffins from one plate to another, consolidating them. “He’s actually between jobs, but he says that’s because he does construction. He just finished with a house, and they’re between projects.”
“Hmm.” I brew myself a cup of lemon tea.
“He’s super hot,” Gretchen continues. “And he’s totally obsessed with me. I mean, I just met him last Saturday, but we’ve spent every night together since. He texts me all the time and gets really concerned if I don’t reply right away. Like he’s worried or something.”
Red flags are waving all over the place. “Gretchen, that isn’t normal. This is Tuesday. You met him four days ago. There is such a thing as someone being too into you.”
“I’m needy,” she admits with a sigh. I already knew that. “I want a guy who thinks about me nonstop. I want him to miss me when we aren’t together. I love that he checks in on me and wants to be with me.”
I blink at her, watching as a goofy smile spreads over her pretty face.
“He’s just so… sweet. Like he won’t let me make breakfast in the morning. He wants to take me out. Well, I pay, but still, at least he’s thinking of me and doesn’t want me to overdo it.”
“Putting a bagel in the toaster is overdoing it?”
“It’s nice not to have to make my own breakfast,” she insists and looks down, avoiding my gaze. “It’s not expensive.”
“Okay, I’m going to say this right here, right now. I don’t like this. He sounds like a mooch, and he’s glommed onto you, and tells you what you want to hear so he can take advantage of you.”
Gretchen clams up and purses her lips. “Or, he really likes me.”
“Gretch—”
“Just give me this, okay?” She turns and stares at me with pleading eyes. “Let me have a little fun with a sexy guy. It probably won’t go anywhere, but I’m enjoying it for right now.”
“Okay.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “It’s really none of my business anyway.”
Just then, the bell over the door chimes, and we get a group of customers, saving me from any more talk about creepy, clingy men. I worry about Gretchen. She so desperately wants to fall in love, and she always tries it with the worst guys possible.
But for the next few hours, there’s no time to think about my assistant manager’s love life because we’re busy with the lunch crowd, and those wanting one more coffee for the afternoon. At one point, all of my tables are full, and we have a line of people waiting for their drinks to go.
I’m grateful Gretchen stayed to help. Working alone this afternoon would have sucked.
“That’s the last of them,” Gretchen says after the last customers leave. She lets out a gusty sigh. “I’m glad I stayed.”
“Me, too. Thanks again.”
The bell over the door rings once more, and I half-expect to see Callum since coming at closing time seems to be his modus operandi. Plus, I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days. Not that I’m counting. Instead, it’s a guy I’ve never seen before. He grins at Gretchen.
“Hey, sugar,” he says.
“Miles!” Gretchen screeches and runs from behind the counter to fling herself into his arms as if she hasn’t seen him in years. The kiss that ensues is not just uncomfortable, it’s also completely ridiculous.
“You’re still on the clock, Gretch.”
This does nothing to dissuade them.
“You’re fired, Gretch.”
Nothing.
“FIRE!”
They jump apart in surprise, and then Gretchen flushes as Miles drapes his arm around her shoulders and tugs her tightly against him.
“I just thought I’d surprise my girlfriend when she got off work.”
“She’s not off work yet,” I reply coolly, watching him with hard eyes.
“But we’re done,” Gretchen says. “It’s only ten minutes early, and I worked an extra shift.”
“Yeah,” Miles says. “She did you a solid. So we’ll be going.”
“Hold up.” I walk slowly around the counter so I don’t slap this piece of crap across his arrogant little face. “This is my business, Miles. I call the shots here, not you. From now on, if you’re going to meet Gretchen after work, you can either wait in here like a gentleman or stay outside. This little display of…whatever this was won’t happen again. Do you understand?”
“So, you work for a bitch, babe,” he says, never breaking eye contact with me. “She probably hasn’t gotten laid in a while.”
“Well, you just made my mind up for me. You can definitely wait outside. Thanks for making it easy. And as for my love life, that’s none of your damn business. Gretchen—”
“Miles,” Gretchen says, clearly embarrassed. “Aspen’s awesome.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
She sends me an apologetic smile and follows the dirtbag out the door.
I let out a long sigh and reach out to flip the lock.
“Oh, Gretchen, this is nothing but trouble.”
I haven’t seen Callum in a week. Not that I counted on seeing him, it had just suddenly become a habit to run into him every few days. Especially after the picnic in the park and that sexy-as-all-get-out kiss after we played in the water, I thought I might see more of him.
But Callum seems to come and go on his own schedule. I’m grateful that I’ve been nice to him, and even a little flirty, but not all-in.
Callum isn’t the kind of man I can get invested in. He’s made that crystal clear. And I’m done feeling angry or bitter about it. He didn’t promise me anything. He’s never promised me anything.
Besides, it could be worse. He could act like Miles, who seems to be stuck to Gretchen like Velcro. I’ll take Callum over Miles any day of the week, for several reasons.
I take the groceries out of my car, hurry through the rain to the front door of my house, unlock it, and let myself in. I closed up the café an hour ago, and I’m taking the next two days off.
I can’t freaking wait.
I fired Kelli after she admitted that she wasn’t really sick but was out on other job interviews. The next day, I hired two college students to replace her. Both of my new hires, Paula and Rachel, are mostly trained, eager for the work, and ready to go. So with Gretchen in charge, they, along with Wendy, my other regular morning help, have it under control.
I’m going to read a book and paint a bathroom. I might even take a nap, which just sounds decadent. If this rain ever clears up, I’ll go for a walk.
But the point is, I don’t have to do anything at all if I don’t want to. I have ice cream in these bags. If I want to loaf around and eat chocolate peanut butter while marathoning the hell out of Netflix, so be it.
I do a little dance in excitement, then turn and scream when I see a face looking through my back door.
“Sorry!” Callum yells through the glass. He’s soaked from the rain, and I hurry over to unlock the door and let him in. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I have a front door,” I remind him as I
fetch a towel and pass it to him so he can dry his face and hair. “With a doorbell. When that rings, I don’t have a heart attack.”
“I saw you go inside with the groceries, and I thought I’d just meet you back here. Bloody bad idea.” He dabs at his face and then sets the wet towel on my counter. “Are you okay?”
“As soon as my heart dislodges from my throat and returns to my chest, I will be fine.” I take a breath. “I figured you’d gone back to London.”
“I did,” he admits. “I just returned this morning.”
“Oh.” I brush my hair out of my face, surprised at this turn of events.
“I had a business meeting that I couldn’t miss, and it was better if I appeared in person rather than virtually. I also looked in on my father. I’m not sure if you knew, but he had a heart attack last year, and I don’t like being gone longer than a few weeks at a time so I can keep an eye on him.”
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard.” I reach out and pat his arm, feeling strong muscles under his long-sleeved shirt.
“It wasn’t publicized,” he says. “It was a mild heart attack, but it scared the hell out of all of us.”
“I’m sure it did. I’m glad he’s doing well.”
He nods. “All this formality is pissing me off.”
Before I can reply, he swoops in and plants his magical lips on mine, kissing me thoroughly. His fingers dive into my hair, and he moans low in his throat as if he’s starved for me.
It’s intoxicating. Surprising.
Okay, it’s pretty damn awesome.
“Did you think I would leave for good and not say goodbye?” he asks, his forehead tipped against mine.
“You did before, and we had sex. And I don’t mean that in a bitchy way, I’m just stating the truth.”
He frowns. “I really buggered things up with you. Give me your mobile.”
“Excuse me?”
“Please give me your mobile.”
I comply and watch as he taps the screen, then passes it back to me.
“I added my number in there and texted myself so I have yours, as well. We should have done that years ago. Maybe we could have avoided all that miscommunication.”
“You gave me your cell phone number.” I blink down at the digits in my phone.
“Yes.”
“Like, your private number?”
He drags his knuckle down my cheek. “Indeed.”
“Okay, then.”
“How have you been?” he asks as he lets me go so I can resume putting away the groceries.
“Busy,” I say. “And, honestly, I hate it when people use busy as the response to that question. I mean, that’s not a good answer. But in this case, that’s all I’ve been. I lost an employee and hired two more, so I had to train them. Gretchen found herself a new boyfriend, which would usually be none of my business, but he’s kind of a dick and has decided he likes to hang out in my café when Gretchen’s working.”
“What’s his name?”
My head turns at the steel in Callum’s voice. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to have him investigated.”
“Oh.” I wave him off and shake my head. “He’s just a guy who’s latched on to Gretchen. But the warning signs are all there that he’s a controlling, obsessive jerk, and all she sees is that he’s paying attention to her.”
“You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am,” I say, folding up my reusable grocery sacks and storing them in the pantry. “She’s my employee and my friend, and she’s chosen a big jerk to fall in love with. Actually, scratch that. She’s not in love at all. She’s infatuated, and she has rose-colored glasses on.”
“She’s an adult,” Callum reminds me. “And as frustrating as it is, all you can do is speak your mind. She has to make the decisions for herself.”
“She’s bad at it,” I reply with a sigh. “Enough about me. And her. How are you?”
“Frustrated,” he says and rubs his hand over his face. “I was called home unexpectedly, and I should have called you to tell you I was going. I missed you while I was away.”
“Oh.” I smile at the thought of Callum missing me. Maybe Gretchen needs to see that this is how missing someone should work. Sure, a phone call would have been nice, but hearing that he thought about me while he was away is wonderful. “I might have given you a passing thought or two over the past week.”
His dark eyes narrow. “Just one or two?”
“Maybe three.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that’s better than no thoughts at all, isn’t it?”
“How long are you in town for? I assume you came to spend more time with Sebastian, Ellie, and the others?”
“I came to town to spend time with you,” he says. “Yes, it will be nice to see the others, but you’re the reason I’m here, Aspen.”
I’m not sure what to say.
“What did you think the past few weeks were?” he asks.
“Well, I thought we were being civil with each other because of Ellie.”
His eyes flash hot, his temper simmering just below the surface. “I don’t kiss women simply to be civil for my baby sister’s sake, Aspen. I don’t go out of my way to spend time, to get any bloody moment alone I can, so I can try to get to know them better for her. This has absolutely nothing to do with Ellie.”
“So noted,” I say slowly, watching the frustration move over him. “I’m sorry I assumed.”
“I’m here because staying away from you isn’t a fucking option for me anymore. You’re in my dreams. You’re constantly in my thoughts. I wonder what you’re doing, if you’re okay, if you need anything. I picked up the mobile to tell David to get your number for me a dozen times, but I restrained myself because I wanted to see you and talk to you in person.
“So, yes, I flew back across the ocean to spend time with you, not my family.”
I swallow hard, my pulse thumping as my blood rushes through my ears. I thought I wanted to hear these things two years ago, but I know now that I wasn’t ready for them then.
Am I ready now? Well, if the butterflies in my stomach are to be believed, I’d say yes.
“Can I trust you?” I whisper.
The frustration dims, and regret replaces it. “Yes. And, Aspen, I’m going to say it once again. I deeply regret that I ever lost your trust in the first place. It was never my intent.”
I nod and bite my lip. “Well, welcome back to town. Would you like to stay for dinner? I’m making manicotti, and I have enough for two.”
He laughs and tugs me to him, wraps his arms around me, and gives me the biggest bear hug ever. I didn’t even know that I needed a hug so badly. To be touched and to feel safe in someone’s embrace.
In his arms.
He gently rocks me back and forth and rubs his hands up and down my back.
“I bet you’re a good dancer,” I mumble. “I know we danced once before, but I was too busy hating you to admire your dance moves.”
“I’ve had a lesson or two.”
“Is it required for the royal family to have dancing skills?” I look up into his face, truly curious.
“It’s best if we do, yes. We attend a lot of balls and events where we have to dance. And as much as we hate it, someone is always watching.”
“Do you hate being watched?”
He licks his lips and then kisses my forehead. “Being royal isn’t something we choose. We were born into this. Which means, we don’t choose the media coverage either. It just is. But, yes, it’s my least favorite thing about my job.”
I’d never considered being a prince a vocation. But it makes perfect sense. I know Ellie is intimately involved with several charities and works tirelessly.
“And how much of what is covered in the media is actually true?” I ask.
“Probably five percent,” he replies. “They usually spell my name right.”
I laugh. “If I were you, I’d ignore it.”
“I do. Unles
s it’s something particularly awful and I can’t avoid it. That hasn’t happened in a while, thank goodness.”
“So, what kind of work do you do for the royal family?” I ask, just as my stomach growls loudly.
“Why don’t you get started on dinner? I’ll tell you everything.”
Chapter 8
~Aspen~
I pop a bite of crusty bread into my mouth and study the sexy man across from me. Now that we’ve settled in after the fright of Callum knocking on my back door, and I have some food in my belly, I’m able to concentrate on the conversation at hand.
Callum’s more interesting than I originally thought.
“So, you work on behalf of wounded veterans, you’re building a special hospital in Edinburgh, and you’re part of the British Olympics committee?”
“Among other things, but those are the big ones,” he confirms and sips the red wine I opened. “This is delicious, by the way. You’re an excellent cook. Where did you learn?”
“My kitchen,” I say with a grin, feeling proud of my culinary skills. “When Greg and I were first married, we were dirt-poor. Young, on our own, and struggling to figure life out. There certainly wasn’t money for eating out. There was barely enough for groceries. I made it a game. Saw what I could make for five dollars.”
“Five dollars per person?”
“For the whole meal,” I say, shaking my head. “As it turns out, there’s plenty you can make. I just had to be a little inventive. As time went on, and money wasn’t quite so tight, I didn’t have to be as frugal at the market, but I still enjoyed cooking and playing in the kitchen.”
“You could do this professionally if you ever wanted to.”
“No.” I laugh and take a bite of the pasta. “I’m fine with my café. I do bake a few batches of the cookies sometimes, especially in the winter. Otherwise, I buy everything we have on hand from a local baker.”
“Your café is beautiful,” he says.
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