Cookies & Candlelight

by Maddrey, Elizabeth

  There was a tap at the door.

  Technically they didn’t open for another twenty minutes, but if they had what the customer wanted, a sale was a sale. Micah dusted the coffee grounds off his hands and walked to the front, his steps slowing as he caught sight of her red hair. Serena. She took his breath away. Literally. But looks weren’t enough, and he’d remind himself of that as often as he needed to if that’s what it took. It sounded like she was a believer though. That was a plus.

  With a smile, he flipped the locks on the front door and pushed it open. “Hey. We’re not quite set up for the day...”

  “I know. Sorry. I wanted to get to you before things got busy.” She breezed through the door and slowed, her head swiveling as she took in the space. “This is pretty much what I expected. It even smells like a bakery.”

  “That’s the general idea.” He tucked his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching the one errant curl that flipped in the opposite direction of all the others. “What can I get you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some coffee. I had this idea last night after you left and I wanted to show it to you before I spent anymore time playing with it.” Serena dug into the enormous bag that was looped over her shoulder and drew out a plastic tub. She pried off the lid and turned the contents out into her hands. “Look.”

  Micah frowned and studied the block of what he assumed was clay. Centered in the block was a dark brown basket-like shape with golden brown ovals that speared out of it like baguettes frequently did on the top of the display case. But it looked like a solid cube, and he was fairly certain clay didn’t actually come with a bakery design in it. “This is cool. How’d you do it?”

  “Sometimes I do nerikomi—it’s a Japanese technique where you build blocks of clay, different colors and shapes, to make designs. This was more complex than I’ve tried before. Usually I stick with curlicues, sunbursts, checkerboards, that sort of thing. But I got the picture in my head and couldn’t sleep until I at least tried. You like it?”

  “It’s amazing. How would you make it into mugs?”

  Serena blew out a breath. “I’m not sure if I can. I’d typically use it for something flat like plates or a platter, maybe a decorative wall piece. I’ve seen people use it for hollow items before though, so I know it can be done. It just might take me a bit longer.”

  “Plates? Like little ones for a cookie?” Micah held his hands in the shape of a dessert plate.

  She nodded.

  “We’d like some of those, too.”

  “Okay. Those I can for sure do with this pattern. Do you want me to try the mugs?”

  Micah studied her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. Three puckered pinkish-red scars stood out in direct contrast to her otherwise flawless skin. How had he never noticed them before? “Do you want to?”

  “I really do. I just—it’s going to change the time estimate. I might not be able to get them done in two weeks.”

  “That’s okay. For this? Totally worth the wait. What happened to your face?”

  Serena flinched as if she’d been struck.

  “Sorry. I—it’s just...” He clamped his mouth shut. One of these days he really was going to master the idea of thinking before speaking.

  “No. It’s fine. I forgot I didn’t put on makeup. I was too excited to show you this. I was in a bad accident several years ago. I don’t really talk about it.” Serena cleared her throat. “So. I’ll do the plates for sure and see if I can make mugs work. If I can’t, do you just want to cancel that portion of the order?”

  Micah shook his head. “No. We still want your mugs. Just make something that goes along with the plates. I’m really sorry. My tongue gets ahead of my brain.”

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously.” Her smile was tight as she turned to go.

  He couldn’t let her leave mad—or upset—whatever she was. “Can I get you a muffin or something? They should be coming out of the oven in just a minute. Or that coffee you wanted?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I have work I should be getting back to.” She held up the block of clay before lowering it carefully back into the container and affixing the lid. “Besides, you’re not open yet, right?”

  “Door’s unlocked. Coffee’s almost ready. Baking is nearly done.” Micah shrugged and struggled to keep his voice casual. “That’s basically open. We have carrot cake cookies today.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t even imagine how that would be good.”

  He laughed and held up a finger. “Wait right there. Okay? Please?”

  Micah dashed into the kitchen. The baskets and trays for the display cases were filled and lined up on the counter nearest the door.

  “About time. You get lost on the way to the coffee pot?” Jonah brought another load of bread over and set it down.

  “Serena’s here. She had this cool idea for the mugs that she wanted to show me. Where are the cookies?”

  Jonah’s eyebrows lifted as he pointed to the tray practically in front of Micah. “Don’t forget to get the rest of the case set up.”

  Waving his brother off, Micah picked up the cookies for the display and pushed through the door. He let out his breath. She was still here. “Prepare to be amazed.”

  “That’s setting the bar kind of high, isn’t it? Let’s go for not revolted.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.” Micah grinned and slid the tray into its spot in the display case before pulling a sheet of tissue paper from a box and using it to grab a cookie. “That’s cream cheese icing sandwiched between them.”

  “Of course it is.” Serena eyed the treat before accepting it. “People like these?”

  This was only the second time they’d featured this particular cookie. It wasn’t a runaway best seller or anything, but it did okay. “They do. Want some coffee?”

  “Might as well.” Serena pulled out a chair and sat. She placed the cookie in front of her and poked the top. “Cream and sugar if you have it.”

  “Real sugar? Agave? Honey? Fake sugar?” Micah held an insulated disposable cup under the dispenser and breathed in the rich aroma of the dark liquid.

  “That’s an awful lot of options for a place where coffee is just a sideline. I’ll live on the edge and use the real stuff.” She broke off a tiny piece of cookie and sniffed it before popping it into her mouth. Her lips curved up.

  “See? Good, right?” Micah set the coffee in front of her and dropped down across from her at the small table. Don’t focus on the scars. He dropped his gaze to her lips. They were full and pink. Imminently kissable. Maybe being accused of staring at the scars was a better idea after all.

  Serena broke off a larger piece and popped it in her mouth. “I have to give you this one. It’s not quite what I expected. That’s a good thing.”

  “I’m glad.” His throat was suddenly dry. “Do you—”

  “Are you ever going to load the cases?” Jonah poked his head through the swinging door and winced. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Serena, this is my brother, Jonah. He’s the primary baker here at A Slice of Heaven.”

  “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m sorry for keeping your brother away from his work. If you have a lid, I can take this to go.” Serena pushed her chair back and stood.

  “You don’t have to. Just sit.” Micah stood and glared over his shoulder at Jonah. “I can load the cases while you enjoy. There’s no hurry.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Micah nodded.

  “Okay.” Serena sat and took a long drink of coffee. “This is good, too.”

  Jonah laughed. “You sound surprised.”

  “In my experience, bakery coffee isn’t always the best.”

  Jonah moved out of the way so Micah could get past him and to the kitchen where he could grab the first load of bread for the cases. Serena was laughing when he returned to the front of the shop. Was his brother not going to help?

  Micah set the basket of bread on top of the
case and went back for more. Jonah was doing his charming thing again and flirting. He was shameless.

  “All the bread has been moved off your counter, oh mighty one.” Micah fought the urge to stick his tongue out at his brother. If Serena wasn’t still at the table, he totally would have.

  Jonah cocked his head to the side. “You haven’t had any coffee yet, obviously.”

  Whatever. Micah started arranging the shelves in the display case with today’s offerings.

  Serena stood. “Thanks for the cookie. And the coffee. What do I owe you?”

  “It’s on me.” Micah’s smile was weak. They’d been having a good time. It wasn’t like there was a line down the block waiting to get in as soon as they opened. Now she was leaving and he hadn’t worked out whether or not he was going to ask her out. If she’d even accept at this point.

  “Well. Thanks.” Serena moistened her lips and studied Micah for two long heartbeats. She took one of their business cards from beside the cash register and a pen from the cup and scribbled on the back before offering it to Micah. “If you need to ask me anything, here’s my cell. Otherwise, the plates will be about two weeks. The mugs...I’ll have to let you know.”

  She was out the door before a coherent thought formed in his brain. Micah looked down at the seven digits on the card. She had good handwriting.

  “Nice.” Jonah nudged Micah in the ribs. “You have to call and ask her out. She came into town just to see you.”

  “How do you get that? She wanted to show me the nakamushi—or whatever the technique is called—clay.”

  Jonah shook his head. “It’s really sad that my brothers are both idiots where women are concerned. If that was the only thing she wanted to do, she would have emailed you a picture like she does with other clients.”

  “How do you know?” There was no way that was true.

  “Because I casually asked about her designs and she was more than happy to show me the photos on her phone and explain how she does exactly that with most of her custom-order clients.” Jonah grinned. “In fact, she had a picture of the bread basket in there. She had to do a little tap dancing to explain why she hadn’t sent it.”

  “I—”

  “Need to think about it. I know.” Jonah punched Micah’s shoulder. “Don’t take too long. I like her. She looks a lot like that actress you used to moon over, but she’s also fun to talk to and still alive, which is a bonus.”

  “I don’t buy those rumors.” Micah closed his eyes. That was a testament to how off his game he was if that slipped out.

  “Ah-ha! You still have a crush on her. That’s hilarious and yet kind of pathetic at the same time.” Jonah shook his head. “Do yourself a favor. Take a step toward a normal life instead of one steeped in unrealistic fantasy, and ask Serena out.”

  “I’ll think about it.” As the door chimed and the first morning pickup bustled in, Micah snapped his mouth closed on further comment. Which was just as well. Taking orders and making change were things he understood. Women...were usually safer when left completely in the imagination.

  6

  Serena set the block of clay containing her bakery design on one of her work tables and used fishing line and thin strips of wood to slice off pieces. She tucked each slice under a wet cloth before returning to the block. It wouldn’t do for them to dry out while she got all the cutting done. When she had twenty of them, she spritzed what remained of the block with water and tucked it back into the plastic tub and turned to rolling out the first plate.

  Was he ever going to call?

  She blew the hair out of her eyes. It didn’t matter. Wouldn’t matter. She’d given him two chances. He was either interested or he wasn’t. It certainly seemed like the latter, which was too bad. Micah was fun to talk to. His brother, Jonah, wasn’t bad either. But she hadn’t felt that same pull she did with Micah. He was interesting and challenging—it’d been a while since a man didn’t immediately return the interest she showed—at the same time. It didn’t hurt that he was good looking, either. She hadn’t been drawn to a man like that since Derrick.

  Serena closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath as her chest tightened. Was it ever going to get easier? The books said it would. So did her counselor. She was still waiting for it to be true. Better, at least for now, to close off those memories and focus on what she did have. She had her studio, clients who came back and commissioned new pieces, and a handful of friends here in Arcadia Valley. If Micah Baxter didn’t want to be part of that, well, that was his problem.

  Her gaze flitted to her cell phone. It sat on the table, its blank screen mocking her. She should have turned on music like she usually did. But she hadn’t wanted to miss any calls. She groaned and forced herself to look down at the rolled-out clay. She’d focus on the plates and leave the rest to God.

  Snagging one of the square slices of the nerikomi block from under the wet cloth, Serena smoothed it onto the clay that would form the platter’s base and covered the whole thing with cloth. She’d roll them until they were one cohesive unit, cut the final shape, form the edges of the plate, and then set it aside to dry. Then she’d repeat the process, and maybe, if she was lucky, it would keep her mind off Micah and whether or not he was as interested in her as she was in him.

  * * *

  The crick in her back told her it was time for a break. Serena stretched and strode to the sink to wash her hands. She had half of the plates made. That was something. Maybe after lunch she’d finish the batch and get them drying. With all the blended clays, they’d need to dry covered. It took longer, but it helped keep them from cracking when she fired them.

  She tapped her phone to check the time and winced. Nearly two. That’s what happened when she got absorbed in a project. And her thoughts. Maybe she’d spend a few minutes catching up on email while she ate. She tucked her phone in her pocket and left the studio.

  Summer heat assaulted her as she crossed the driveway to her house. It wasn’t overwhelming today at least. She’d slap a sandwich together and sit on the deck. Most of her email could be handled on her phone anyway, and the sunlight would do her good. That was probably the only thing she missed about California. The beach. Sunshine nearly every day. Driving her convertible on the Pacific Coast Highway with the wind in her hair and the smell of the surf surrounding her.

  The phone’s buzzing jolted her out of her memories. “Hello?”

  “Serena, dear, it’s Mom.”

  She winced. That’s what she got for not checking the display before answering. She still would’ve picked up, but preparation was always better when it came to her mother. “Hi. What’s up?”

  “We’re taking an early lunch and I thought I’d check in. Your father and I had a lovely time this past weekend. It was so nice to see you. Are you sure you can’t make it out for the Fourth?”

  “I enjoyed seeing you, too. I appreciate you making the trip.” Using her shoulder to hold her phone to her ear, Serena pulled two slices of bread out and frowned into the refrigerator. Looked like it was cheese and tomato. Again. She really needed to up her sandwich game.

  “And the party?”

  “Mom...I just can’t. I’m sorry. I know it disappoints you.” She fended off the stab of guilt that came with the words. She didn’t mean to let her parents down, but that wasn’t her life now. Serena grabbed the small jar of mayonnaise and moved to the island to assemble her lunch.

  Her mother sighed. “Jerry has a script he wants you to read. I was hoping you could talk to him about it then. I’ll just give him your email.”

  “No.” Her heart pounded. A script from Jerry was tempting—very tempting—but she was done with that life. Wasn’t she? “Have him send it through Zennia.”

  “I thought you fired her. You still keep her on as your agent?”

  Serena spread mayo on the bread before layering slices of tomato followed by cheese. Technically her mother was right. She wasn’t actively represented by anyone anymore. “We’re friends. She’ll st
ill pass things on. I’ll let her know it’s coming.”

  “Fantastic. It’ll be so good to have you back in town doing what you were born to do.”

  “Mom. Looking at a script is a far cry from auditioning and landing the part.” She closed her eyes. Maybe she should tell Zennia to wait two days and then just tell Jerry she wasn’t interested.

  “Please. Jerry says the part’s custom-made for you. If you want it, it’s yours. And it would open the door to so many new opportunities. Isn’t it time to let people know, once and for all, that you’re not dead?”

  Serena’s stomach sank. “You knew about that?”

  “Of course, didn’t you? There are so many ridiculous theories out there, but that’s the one that gets the most attention. Your father and I fought it at first, but it only seemed to make it worse, so now we just stay out of it. You did such a good job disappearing after you got out of the hospital, I guess we figured it’s what you wanted.”

  “Thanks. And no, I only heard that one this week.”

  “Darling, you need to stay current if you’re coming back. I’ll get your subscriptions to the industry magazines updated. You should let the guild know your new address, too. Or I’ll do it—I’ll be seeing—”

  Serena’s chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. “Stop. You know what? This is a bad idea. Just tell Jerry I’m flattered, but I’m happy here. I don’t need a comeback role when I have no interest in making a comeback.”

  “But—”

  “No. Mom. Just...no. I’m sorry. I know it’s disappointing and that you don’t understand. But can you please trust me?” She rubbed her chest, just over her heart.

  “I don’t understand you, Serena. You could have everything back. It’d be like you never left.”

  Serena mumbled something and ended the call. Maybe she could get her career back—and even that was an iffy proposition—but it would never be like it was before. Before, there’d been Derrick. Now he was dead.