by Sabrina York
For her part, she had no experience running a business with employees, and dealing with the paperwork involved. The thought of workman’s compensation and 1099s made her brain hurt. Fortunately, Lizzie was on top of it all and helped her through it.
Somehow, instead of stress, Roni felt excited and powerful. This was a thing that belonged to her. She’d built it—sure, with help—and had turned her vague idea into a full-fledged business. And she loved the work. Every second.
It wasn’t all work, though. There was a lot of play. Sunday suppers at the Stirling Ranch became a staple. Mark made it a point to take Roni into the Tri-Cities every so often for a movie or a trip to Costco. And, of course, when Lizzie and Danny wanted some time alone, Roni happily volunteered to watch Emma.
She loved those days. She especially enjoyed tea time, where Gram and Emma sipped on chamomile and nibbled on whatever goodies were on offer. Soon, other little girls—and a few boys—started coming over on Saturday afternoons with big round eyes and hopeful looks. It wasn’t long until Saturday afternoon Story Hour was an actual thing. It thrilled Roni, because the events were the perfect marriage of her two favorite things: baking and kiddos. The children would arrive to find the shop closed for their very own exclusive “tea party” and reading of whatever storybook they’d selected by show of hands the week before. Slowly but surely, she got to know most of the children in town.
One of her favorites was Jack, Crystal’s son. He was endearing and smart, though she’d heard from his mother that some people around town—Mrs. Anders, the school principal, included—seemed to think he had behavioral issues. But Roni knew better. She’d seen children like Jack before. He didn’t process information the way others did, so he was frustrated when he didn’t succeed as quickly. And when he became frustrated, like many other children with challenges like ADD and dyslexia, he needed a little extra encouragement.
Because they lived so close to each other—practically next door, as Roni lived over the bookstore and Crystal and Jack lived over the B&G—they became fast friends. It seemed natural for Crystal to watch Gram, or for Roni to take care of Jack after school, when Crystal had to work. And she really did work hard.
“So you really have two jobs,” Roni said one night over wine when Crystal came by to pick up her son. She hadn’t been working at the B&G that night. She’d been down in the Tri-Cities visiting a client who was undergoing chemotherapy, and had hired Crystal to help with pain and nausea.
“I do,” Crystal said. “But the aromatherapy and massage are more of a passion.”
“There can’t be much of a clientele here in town.”
Crystal’s eyes lit up. “That’s why I’m working on setting up a website for my lotions and soaps. I make them in my kitchen. I figure if I can get this online business to take off, Jack and I won’t have to worry about money as much.”
Roni nodded. It must be hard to be a single mother, she thought. “You should talk to Lizzie. She’s been amazing helping me figure out the business side of a bakery.”
Crystal nodded. “Good idea. Lizzie’s great. Heck, all the Stirlings are. They’ve been so supportive since my husband was killed.” Brandon had been a Marine, stationed overseas, when he’d been killed by an IED. Apparently, he and Luke had been friends, stationed together—but Luke never talked about it. He never talked about a lot of stuff, which Roni understood more than she would have liked. Sam called him a hermit, but Roni saw him a lot, because he lived nearby. And he had a sweet tooth.
When she thought about it, she had to admit that a great deal of her happiness was due to the Stirlings, the family that had surrounded her, and embraced her, and supported her. And the man who made her body heat with passion, who made her feel safe and protected in his arms, in his bed, without demanding anything in return.
Mark had been exactly what she’d needed. He’d been gentle and patient and cognizant of her needs, he’d moved at her pace, which must have been frustrating for him. He’d helped her regain her confidence as a woman. As a person.
He made her happy.
She had to ignore the hovering thought that at some point he might decide he wanted more in his life...maybe even children. And when that happened she’d have to tell him the truth. And then, of course, he’d end whatever this was between them.
It was probably best, for the moment, to just ignore reality, and enjoy what they had while it lasted. There was always tomorrow for heartbreak.
* * *
As they got further into autumn, Roni and Mark eased into a comfortable routine, despite his misgivings. Which he kept to himself. Sam tried to engage him in a conversation about his unconventional relationship with Roni, but he kept her at arm’s length. Not only was it none of her business, but he also really didn’t want to dissect his feelings...especially not with his sister.
Halloween was a blast. Mark helped Roni turn the bakery into a haunted house by decorating upside-down cardboard boxes that had arrived with bulk baking supplies, and lassoing volunteers to hand out different kinds of cookies to the kids who stopped by. They turned the lights down low, and had spooky music on. Snoopy was the official mascot, guarding the door as a pirate. Parrot on his shoulder and all.
Roni had insisted that the event not be too scary, because the little ones deserved to have fun, too. Emma and Jack felt really special when Roni asked them to help hand out the treats. She was good at that, Mark realized. Making people feel good.
In November, Mark made a date with Roni to celebrate the second-month anniversary of her bakery opening. It was a little late, because they were both so busy, but he felt the moment deserved acknowledgment. He was so proud of all the work she’d done, the improvements she’d made to the store and, of course, the impact she’d had on this town. Two months in business, and she was already a staple in Butterscotch Ridge. Her name was on everyone’s lips.
Of course, it wasn’t all hunky-dory in Mark’s world. The bakery was so busy, and Roni had to get up at an ungodly hour, which meant she turned in at an ungodly hour, as well. Mark didn’t get nearly as much time with her as he’d like. And then, there were the jokes his friends made when they came into the bakery—at least, he assumed they were jokes—about how they all wanted to marry her and whisk her away to a secluded kitchen somewhere.
Roni laughed them off, when such comments were made in her presence, but Mark would grit his teeth to stop himself from responding. It wasn’t because he felt insecure in his relationship with her...whatever it was.
All right. Maybe he did feel a little insecure. Maybe it bugged him that they weren’t a real couple, that other men might see her as available. Maybe he did spend far too much time at night staring up at the ceiling and wishing he could have more with her. That he could talk her into redefining their relationship.
The trouble was, he wanted and needed her in his life. Couldn’t see it without her. So in the end, after each bout of soul-searching, he knew he just had to suck it up. Be her friend with benefits—even though he was hungry for more—because she’d been clear about what she wanted and he’d agreed to her terms. With her history, he knew he’d done the right thing. He knew this was what she needed.
What he didn’t admit, and never would, was how much it was starting to hurt.
In truth, they had everything a regular relationship had...except the commitment. He was greedy to want it all, and he knew it. But he did.
Sometimes, he entertained the idea of sitting her down and asking her for more, but he didn’t, because if he did, she might end it all. If that made him a coward, so be it. Losing her was not an option. She was entwined in his life. She was necessary.
The night of their big date, she answered his knock with a huge smile and a kiss, and his heart swelled in a way that made his chest ache. “You look beautiful,” he said, without even thinking. In fact, she had a glow about her.
“Thanks.” She grinned
and did a couple of poses, as though for a camera.
A skitter of long toenails sounded on the linoleum, and Snoopy zoomed into the room, so fast he couldn’t make the turn and spun out into the fridge, all the while, barking his fool head off.
“Hey, Snoops,” Mark said, leaning down to let him smell his hand before scratching the mutt on the head. “How’s he doing?” he asked.
Roni snorted a laugh. “He’s not my dog anymore.” And, when Mark glanced up curiously, she added, “Gram. The two of them are inseparable. Probably because I’m too busy to scratch him all day, and she’s happy to do it.”
“That’s good.” He gave the pupper one more pat and stood. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” She grabbed a sweater, and hollered down the hall, “We’re going, Gwen!”
“Okay,” Gwen hollered back, over the sounds of some quiz show.
“It’s nice of her to stay with Gram so you can get out. You deserve it,” he said as they made their way down the stairs.
“Thanks. It’s been crazy at the bakery. I’m so glad I have help now.”
Mark bit back a smile. “Me, too. You work too hard.”
“It’s not work if you love it.” She smiled at him again, and he felt it. That glow, shining and warm in his soul.
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
She didn’t respond, other than to sigh and tuck her arm in his, but he could read her mood, so no words were necessary.
Dinner was perfect, even for the B&G. It would have been a romantic date, if he and Roni had been officially dating. They weren’t. But at least everyone in the restaurant knew better than to stop by their table to chat. Well, almost everyone.
Chase came by to try to talk her into making pastries for his Sunday brunch, but Roni fed him a line about expanding on a schedule and shooed him away.
After Chase left them alone, he and Roni laughed and talked over their meals—a thick juicy steak for him, and an apple-walnut-and-gorgonzola salad for her. The champagne he’d ordered especially for the evening was a hit.
Roni smiled at him across the table. “You are so thoughtful. Thank you, Mark.”
He lifted his flute to clink with hers. “This is a big deal.”
Her gaze turned playful. “Is dinner and champagne all you have planned?” she asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?”
He knew exactly what she was hinting at. Heat pooled in his groin. It had been far too long since they’d been together and alone. Still, he decided to play dumb. Just for fun. “Dessert?” he suggested.
Her lips curved into a smile. “My choice?”
He gave a little laugh. “I hear they have an excellent lemon cake tonight. Comes from that new bakery in town. You heard of it?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not eating my own cake for dessert. Come on. Finish your steak. Let’s go back to my place and I’ll show you how I can really cook.”
He had to comply. But he didn’t finish his steak.
The walk back to her apartment took far too long and, in Mark’s opinion, Gwen had way too much to say when they got back to Roni’s place. He tried to be all casual and pretend he wasn’t in a hurry for her to leave, but he was. He really was. The smell of Roni’s perfume, the softness of her hair and the glint in her eye all promised to fill his rising need.
He wasn’t expecting Roni’s reaction when the door finally closed on Gwen’s retreating form. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward her room. “Come on,” she said when he hesitated.
“Um... What about your grandmother?”
“What about her?” she said on a laugh.
“She’s in the next room.” He hadn’t thought about that, but now he couldn’t get it out of his head.
She shrugged. “We’ll just be quiet. Like we’ve been doing, silly.”
He nearly groaned. “I don’t think I can be quiet. Not tonight. Not when I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
For some reason, this made Roni smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned into him and went up on her toes to kiss him. And, man, what a kiss. All thoughts of grandmothers and being quiet fled from his mind.
It wasn’t until later, after, when she was asleep and he was awake, staring at the ceiling, that misgivings hit him once again.
Maybe Sam had been right. Maybe he was bound for heartbreak. But for now, he had Roni in his arms, and all was right with the world.
Chapter Nine
Roni woke up later than usual the next morning, and even though the sun was still asleep, Mark was gone. Her mood dipped, but then she heard his voice coming from the kitchen, along with the seductive scents of coffee and bacon.
She wrapped herself in her robe and padded into the kitchen. The scene there was heartwarming. Mark had made Gram a breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs. How sweet.
“I had the strangest dream last night,” Gram said to him as he brought her a cup of coffee.
“What was that?” he asked, even as his gaze flicked to Roni. His smile unfurled. It was a lover’s smile. Sexy and delicious, a promise, perhaps. A delicious ribbon of excitement wove through her and she briefly wondered if they might have some time alone before she had to go down to the bakery.
Gram grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him closer, stealing his attention back. “I dreamed there were wolves,” she said. “A pack of them, I think, howling. All night long.”
It was adorable, the way his cheeks turned pink. The feral howls Gram had heard had, most likely, come from Roni’s room.
Gram stood and shuffled in her slippered feet to the counter, where a tray of cookies awaited boxing. “Oh. What kind of cookies are these?” she asked.
“Shortbreads, Gram,” Roni said.
Her face fell.
Roni opened the cookie jar, and fished out one of Gram’s favorites. She always kept them on hand now. “But I have a molasses one right here if you’d like.”
She gently pushed past Mark to grab the cookie, then left the room, happily nibbling her treat.
Mark chuckled. “She sure loves molasses cookies. But do you think she eats too many? She’s got one every time I see her.”
Roni had to smile. “The doctors say at her age, it’s okay to splurge a little. And they make her so happy.”
He grinned. “I wish a cookie could make me that happy.”
“Me, too.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful if life was that easy?
“You hungry?” Mark asked, brandishing an empty plate.
“Starving.” She shot him a grin. “Probably because of that workout last night.”
He paused in scooping scrambled eggs onto her plate to waggle his brows. “That was fantastic.”
“Even the howling?”
“I’m pretty sure you were the one doing the howling,” he said as he set her breakfast before her and headed back to pour her a cup of coffee. Then he went and added a dollop of milk so it wouldn’t be too hot. Good Lord, he was thoughtful. And kind. And patient. Probably the most perfect man on the planet.
He sat down next to her; his body was warm, comforting.
She inhaled deeply before she took a sip from her mug. The scents of coffee and hot man mingled. “Mmm. I could get used to this,” she said.
He was close enough that she felt him go still. He caught her eye. “Really?”
His tone, the way he went on point, the intensity of his gaze...made little prickles dance over her nape. She decided to calm the sudden unease in her belly with a lighthearted joke.
“Having a man make me breakfast?” She took a bite of bacon. “Who wouldn’t love that?” When he didn’t respond, when his intensity didn’t ease, she babbled on. “Besides, it’s nice not being alone in the morning. Although, you could have woken me. We could have had a replay of last night.” She sent him what she thought was a seductive expression, bu
t he didn’t react. Not the way she’d hoped, at any rate.
“Your grandmother was already awake,” he said quietly.
She didn’t understand his somber expression; it sent a sizzle down her solar plexus. It made her want to run. “Thank you for spending time with her,” she said for want of something to say.
To her surprise, he took her hand in his. Stroked her with his thumb. Her apprehension grew.
But Mark didn’t speak. Rather, he stared down at their entwined hands as though searching for words. All the while, her heart thudded as tension coiled within her like a spring.
Finally—finally—he met her gaze. Then he cleared his throat. “I love this thing we have,” he said.
Ah, God. The sizzle returned. “I...love it, too,” she said, because it was true and she didn’t know what else to say. She suspected she knew what was coming and she dreaded it.
“Roni—”
“Mark. Don’t.” She had to stop him. She had to stop him before he asked her for something she couldn’t give. Before he demanded the truth. “What we have is perfect.” She even leaned in and kissed him, to make her point.
It broke her heart when he sighed. “Is it?”
It was perfect for her. She was blissfully happy for the first time in her life. She didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want this to change.
She knew it wasn’t perfect for him. She’d known for a while. But she wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Not today. So she pulled her hand from his, smiled and said, “It’s getting late. I have to get to work, and so do you.”
His stark expression shifted into a wash of emotion. There was anger in there. She could see it. Instinctively, she edged away. “To hell with work, Roni,” he growled. “Nothing is as important to me as you are. Do you understand that? I love you. I want to be with you.”
Roni’s heart jumped. “You are with me.” She cupped her hands around his face, thumbed away the dampness on his cheeks and tried to pretend they didn’t burn like acid on her soul. “We’re together nearly every night.”
