by Lara Swann
“I bought it for the traveling I do!” I point out. “Now if you’d suggested I write an article about that while I was away—”
“Actually.” Anderson’s eyes sparkle as he looks back at me, a smile spreading over his face. “I did have an idea or two about that…”
I glance back up, sudden interest flaring through me. “Oh?”
“I know we can’t exactly send you around the country on our budget, like the reporter you’d like to be - but since you’ve just been traveling on your own dime…well, maybe Behind The Times could do with a few features about different places, inspire people’s curiosity and let them know what else is out there, that sort of thing.”
“Wait, really?” I ask. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. After the cupcake article.” He grins. “Don’t let it be said I don’t at least try to give the two of you what you want.”
Alright. He’s got me there.
“Okay.” I say, too pleased to resist any longer. “I’ll do it.”
“Of course you will.” He says, with a wicked knowing smile as he turns to go back to his office.
“Hey, wait—have you asked him about this? Arranged anything?”
I’ve gone from reluctance to wanting it done already so that I can get to my own little passion project.
Finally. Something I can fall in love with writing about.
Anderson shakes his head. “Nope, figured I’d leave that to you.”
“How do you know he’s going to go for it?” I ask, frowning slightly as I think about it.
Anderson gives me a strange look. “Have you met the guy? Of course he’s going to want us to do a feature on his store - unless you find a way to royally piss him off.”
My frown deepens as I think about it, not at all sure Anderson is right about that. Sure, he’s all smiles and charm, but there’s something else there too - and when I asked about Los Angeles yesterday—
“Why are you so reluctant, anyway?” Amanda asks after Anderson turns to head back to his office, giving me a curious look. “It’s not like interviewing that man is going to be a hardship.”
“I’ve been back less than a week and so far I’ve gone into his shop, knocked on his door and invited his daughter around to play twice. The poor guy is going to think I’m stalking him or something if I ask to interview him too.”
Amanda laughs, leaning back in her chair and playing with the pen in her hand. “You and the rest of the town. Trust me, I’m sure he’s used to it by now.”
I groan again. That’s exactly the problem. I don’t want him to think that I’m trying to find excuses to talk to him for exactly the same reason that everyone else is - or that I’m interested in any of that. That’s a bad idea all round.
Not that he’s not interesting - he’s very interesting - which is probably part of the problem. Hell, if I were to start looking for something like that again, it wouldn’t be hard for him to end up near the top of the list.
His face flashes through my mind again, the way the wind brushed his naturally tousled golden hair in the backyard yesterday, the slightly crooked edge to his smile when he’s amused, those blue eyes sparkling…
Okay. Maybe near the top is a bit of an understatement.
It’s just that I’m done with all that. I made that decision, I’m happy with it, and I don’t need to let him confuse the hell out of me all over again. It’s simply not worth it.
So, his delicious sugary goodness is simply off limits. That is, the delicious sugary goodness that makes up him. He is off limits. The cupcakes are still totally fair game.
But since there’s nothing behind the overtures I’ve made towards his gorgeous little girl - or anything else I’ve done - I don’t want him thinking there might be. That way lies confusion and awkwardness - and the kind of mess I have no interest in being part of.
I’m drama-free now, which is exactly how I like it.
And how it’s going to stay…just so long as I can avoid getting caught up in a certain muffin man’s considerable charms.
* * *
I knock on the door and step inside before waiting for an answer, the charms clattering above me as I do. The sign said ‘closed’, but I guessed right that he hasn’t locked up yet.
“We’re closed!” Liam’s warm, caramel-soaked voice calls out from where he’s bent down behind the counter, as if I might not be able to read.
“I know.” I say, smirking at him as he straightens and looks over at me, once eyebrow raised in surprise. “I was hoping to catch you after hours.”
His other eyebrow joins the first as it rises into his hairline, and I belatedly realize how that sounded. I’m the first to laugh about it, too, quite enjoying the warm flush of amused embarrassment that runs through me at that thought.
“Okay, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” I add, as Maya comes skipping out of the back room. “I just wanted to ask you about something.”
His gaze lingers on me, and I’m not sure whether the slight heat I feel in it is just Liam’s natural warmth…or something else.
“Well, we don’t have any leftover cupcakes, if you’re looking for a few after-hours freebies.”
Okay. There must be something seriously wrong with my mind tonight, because the way he says after-hours freebie sounds way more dirty to me than it should, and I’m pretty sure that’s not at all how he meant it. Pretty sure. There’s something in those eyes—
“Yes we do, Daddy!” Maya interrupts, and I blink as I’m reminded that whatever is going on in my head, there’s a very under-age audience here. “There are lots of cupcakes left.”
Liam’s gaze finally breaks away from mine, looking down at his daughter with a wry smile and tugging on her braid a little. That’s all it takes for the suddenly thick atmosphere to shift, and he shakes his head at her as she scowls and tries to bat his hand away.
“If we start giving away our cupcakes for free in the evening, then no one will buy them during the day, princess.”
“But it’s Kelsey!” She says, emphasizing my name, and Liam glances back at me, my own surprise mirrored in his expression.
I’m not sure when exactly I became an exception for Maya, or how he might feel about that, but I don’t let the moment drag.
“I didn’t come for cupcakes, either.” I say before either of us can think about it too much, giving Maya a gentle smile before looking at Liam. “I was looking for a few moments of your time to talk business, if you can spare them.”
“Oh?” He says, a question in his eyes before he turns back to Maya. “Tell you what, princess, do you want to go and watch those cartoons for a little bit longer, while I talk to Kelsey. It sounds like we have some boring grown-up things to talk about.”
Her mouth twists dubiously as she looks between us, before finally shrugging with an exaggerated gesture.
“Alright Daddy…” She gives a big sigh as she walks back around the counter, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. “I’ll never understand why grown-ups always want to talk about boring things…”
I smile as I catch the words, unable to help it as I watch her leave. God, the kid is adorable.
I might not be entirely sure what I think of her Daddy yet, but I think I might already love her.
Liam chuckles too, before looking back at me and folding his arms. “So, what did you want to talk about? Is this really a few moments, or should I make us some coffee?”
“No, really just a few minutes, I promise.” I say, shaking my head and gesturing behind me out the door. “I work just opposite at Behind The Times and—”
“Behind…what?”
“Ohh, it’s the town newspaper. Behind The Times - that’s what Anderson thought it would be fun to call it, since by the time we release it, the town gossips have already done our work for us.” I give him a wry smile. “We only release every two weeks.”
“Oh, I see.” He laughs, looking behind me even though I doubt he can see the building from here. “Yet more q
uirks.”
“What can I say? It’s something we do well.” My smile spreads into a grin, and then I shrug, getting back to the point. “Anyway, since this store is obviously the most interesting thing to happen in Ashton for…well, I can’t even remember…Anderson would like me to do a feature piece on it. You know the sort of thing, take some pictures of all the awesome cakes, ask a few questions, tell the town a little more about the guy behind it all.”
I try to make it sound as inviting and casual as I possibly can, but even though I can’t say anything about his smile or expression changes, I can almost feel something closing off between us.
“I’m not sure there’s all that much to say.” He says, shrugging almost diffidently.
From what I’ve seen so far, there’s no way I would have called Liam shy, but right now…
“You have no idea what kinds of articles we’ve pushed in the past that we really had nothing to say about. Believe me, everyone is as curious as they possibly could be about this place. Even if we just publish a two-page spread of pretty cake photos, I think they’ll eat it up…” I say, then grin, pleased at the accidental pun. “Maybe even literally. Free publicity doesn’t hurt, right?”
“I think everyone already knows we’re here.” He points out, but I can see my antics are amusing him at least. Some of his initial stiffness seems to be easing a little.
“Ahh, but a reminder never hurts. C’mon, Liam, our next best article is literally about sewage.”
He laughs, and I don’t mention that I asked to work on that one instead of this.
“What sort of questions are you thinking?” He asks, and I know he’s wavering.
Score one for Kelsey.
“The usual - what inspired you to set this place up, why Ashton, what your plans are for the store, how it’s going so far…that sort of thing. But it’s up to you, if you like. Talk about whatever you want - I’m sure the people here will find it fascinating regardless - and they certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little bit more.” I give him a knowing smile, very aware that he’s probably noticed exactly that. “I can send you the article after I write it, if you like, and you can let me know if you want anything changed or taken out - if you’re worried about coming across wrong or anything.”
“Really?” His eyebrow rises again. “That doesn’t tend to be how the media works.”
What does he know about that?
The curiosity that started the first time I met him flares inside me again, but I try to ignore it. You would think working on this interview would be a simple solution for it, but I get the feeling that’s not how this is going to work out. Not at all.
“Well, I don’t know what media you’ve encountered, but this is a small town newspaper, Liam.” I tilt my head at him, unable to keep the interest entirely out of my expression. “Anderson is big on respect and privacy. We might not be able to do anything about the gossip that circulates around here, but with the town newspaper we try to do things properly. The last thing you want is to make people uncomfortable in a small town like this.”
He’s silent for a moment as he thinks about it, his gaze measuring me, and the weight in it is enough to make me feel that look right down to my toes.
God, for a guy with so much ease and charm…he can be damn intense, too.
I’m not sure when that change even occurred.
“Okay, I’ll give you an interview about the store.” He finally nods. “But not about me personally - that’s not exactly relevant, and I doubt anyone would be interested anyway.”
Oh, they would be. More than he probably knows. I could promise that.
But I just nod, not saying any of that. He smiles as if he’d never been totally reluctant to agree to this, and when he looks like that - golden sunshine back in his expression, the light of it making it almost impossible to believe that there had ever been storm clouds at all - I can’t help smiling back, the warmth of it banishing any possible awkwardness we might have been left feeling.
“Thanks.” I say, and I really do mean it. I don’t always like trying to convince people to do things they’d rather not, and I appreciate him being gracious about it.
Yes, I’ll take that. It will be more than enough for Anderson, at least.
Even if, after we’ve agreed on a time and I’ve left the store - with a cupcake that Maya sneaked to me, in full view of her amusingly exasperated father - I’m still thinking about what might be going on there, and what it is that he really doesn’t want to talk about.
Chapter Seven
Liam
“Thanks again for agreeing to do this.”
Kelsey says with a smile as I let her into the store a few days later, after closing up for the day. She came by earlier to take photos of the bustling cafe section when it was full and busy, but was true to her word about not getting in the way while I was running the store.
I just hope she’s going to be true to her word about everything else, too.
The thought is probably unfair, and it feels stupid that I’m actually a little bit nervous about this, but I can’t help it. Inviting someone to ask me questions is the last thing I want to do - especially, if I’m honest, if that person is Kelsey. I’m not sure what it is, but things have a way of slipping out around her - things I never intended to say. I guess that’s part of what makes her a good journalist, but still…I can’t say I’ve ever particularly liked journalists.
Especially my experience of them.
Which is again unfair, considering that Kelsey has been nothing but kind and generous towards Maya and I since we moved here.
“You okay?” She asks, with that far-too-perceptive look she has, and I try to shrug off the feeling.
“Yeah, sorry. Just distracted. Did you want to take some photos of the cakes first, or do the questions?” I ask, not quite sure what she’s got in mind, but I try to smile and act like I’m totally easy with this. “This time I did make coffee.”
She laughs, and something about hearing that musical sound again helps, even if I’m not sure I want it to.
Yeah, Kelsey is…something else.
“That sounds like a good plan - why don’t you get that sorted while I take a few photos now that I’m not getting in the way of all your customers?”
I nod, but I’m still watching her as she turns to look at the display cakes that I’ve moved over to a couple of the tables so that she can see them better. She’s wearing a shorter dress today, but it’s still light and flows around her knees, with a wide leather belt just under her breasts and intricate flowers embroidered along the hem and all the way up one side.
I move over behind the counter to deal with the coffee, but my gaze is still drawn to it as she walks and moves, my eyes running along it partly out of curiosity…and partly something else, as they linger a few moments too long on the soft curves it hugs beautifully.
I don’t think it’s deliberate - because she doesn’t seem the slightest bit aware of it - but there really is something incredibly alluring about her. Maybe her total unselfconsciousness, or that willingness to laugh at herself and everyone else, the simple joy she seems to extract so easily from life…
Either way, I shake off the thoughts. That’s not what she’s here for - and not what I am, either, even if the comment she made when she strolled in here after I’d closed comes straight back to me.
I was hoping to catch you after hours.
That might have kept me up at night a couple of times, imagining what the two of us could do in a cupcake store at night, the things we could…taste.
Yeah. It’s probably a good thing she’s one of the few women in town obviously not interested, or you could be in serious danger.
Then again, maybe that’s part of it. Kelsey’s apparent disinterest makes it somehow safer to let the thoughts run a little wild, simple because I know they won’t go any further than that. I’m lucky to have one of the friendliest people I’ve met here as my next-door neighbor, but that’s what
it is. Maybe-potential friends. Which is a nice feeling in itself - and safe in a way that not many other interactions have felt.
Besides, most of the time, she seems more interested in being friends with Maya than you.
Not that I can blame her for that. My daughter is obviously the most interesting person in the world.
“Do you really make these every day?” She asks, a welcome interruption to the direction my thoughts are going. “They’re huge…and so intricate…what happens if they don’t get eaten?”
“Not every day.” I say, appreciating a question I can answer easily enough. “There’s one display piece that’s just an example - not a cake at all - that I use if I don’t think I’ll be able to sell enough of them, but you’d be surprised…they go quite well. The trouble really is cutting into them and still making them look attractive from the outside.”
She laughs at that, and it eases some of my tension as I start pouring coffee.
“I usually sell them cheaper the next day, when they’re still fresh enough but not as good, or donate them to the city - the fire station, sheriff’s department and town hall are always glad to have a little energy boost, I find.”
“The local newspaper wouldn’t object either.” She grins at me and I laugh.
“Maybe don’t mention that in the article. I’ll be getting requests from all over.” I say, then continue. “If that isn’t enough, I tend to freeze leftover pieces for use in ice cream sundaes and things like that.”
“You’ve really thought about this—though, ohh god.” She groans suddenly.
“What?” I ask, concerned.
“I’ve just realized I’m going to leave this interview starving and desperate for a sugar rush.”
I give her an almost insulted look. “You come to interview a cupcake store, and you think you’ll leave needing sugar? As if I wouldn’t make treats just for this.”
“Wait, really?”
“Of course.” I open the counter up, then grin at her. “Help yourself - and it’s not often I let someone have free reign in my store.”
