Cookies & Candlelight

by Maddrey, Elizabeth

  * * *

  Serena looked up from her work table and frowned.

  “Hi. Am I interrupting?”

  She fought to keep the frown from turning into a scowl. “Not really. Come on in.”

  Micah crossed the studio, hands tucked loosely in his pockets. “I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. So I thought I’d swing by and see if you wanted to grab a bite.”

  After her mother’s call, she’d turned the phone off. Usually that was a hint that someone wasn’t in the mood to talk. Not even to handsome, interesting men. Apparently Micah hadn’t gotten the memo. “What time is it?”

  “Almost six thirty. We close the bakery at five thirty and there’s clean up and stuff to do, so...” He shrugged. “Is it too late?”

  Serena stared down at the block of clay she was building as an experiment for the bakery’s mugs and fought to get her attitude under control. She’d been upset that he hadn’t called, and now, here he was. This was a good thing. “No, it’s fine. I need to finish this and get it started drying first though. Then clean up. I’ll probably be close to an hour?”

  “That’s fine.” He wandered over to one of the shelves that held pottery in the process of drying before being glazed and fired. “Mind if I hang? Or I can come back.”

  She rolled the lighter brown clay that represented the baguettes into a tube and fitted it against the block, pressing and pinching until it was the right shape and joined to the clay around it. Did she mind? She didn’t usually let people watch her work. Unlike acting, making pottery was trickier when people were around. But he was here. If she said he had to go, he’d barely have time to do anything when he got back to town before he had to turn around. Or she could offer to just meet him somewhere. But... “Sure. You can go in the house, if you want. It’s more comfortable. The TV remote’s on the coffee table, but I only have streaming. Still, there’s probably something on.”

  “Would you prefer that?” He ambled closer to her work space and peered down at the clay before holding her gaze.

  Her breath caught in her lungs. The man was potent. She hadn’t been wrong about their chemistry. Serena managed a nod. “Do you mind?”

  Micah grinned. “Nope. But I might just sit out on your deck. It’s a nice June evening and I have a book with me in the car. Take your time.”

  She watched him leave before returning to her project. He had a book in the car. Who did that? It was smart. She always intended to pack something for unexpected delays, although it was unlikely to be a book—but a magazine would count, right? He’d probably been in some kind of wilderness club as a kid—didn’t they have a saying about always being prepared?

  Her gaze darted up. She could just see him on the deck, his feet up on the rail, a book in his lap, perfectly at home. Serena blew out a breath. Just because he’d said to take her time didn’t mean she should dawdle. She arranged the next segment of clay and banged the block on the table to meld them. When she was satisfied with the design, she added solid colors of clay to each side and repeated the process of whacking the block on the table to bind the materials together. This one had more of the solid color on top and bottom than the example she’d taken to the bakery that morning. If all went well, after it had time to dry, she could carve it into a mug on the wheel. She’d do one as an experiment before committing to the rest of the order.

  Serena set the clay to dry and tidied her workspace before stepping out of the studio and locking the door. Micah appeared engrossed in his book. The sunlight filtered through the trees and brought out the different shades of brown in his hair. She climbed the steps of the deck. “I’ll just be another few minutes.”

  He looked up and smiled. “Okay.”

  Shaking her head, Serena stepped into the house and hurried back to her bedroom. Glancing in the mirror over the sink she stopped, eyes wide. Her hair was stuck to her head on one side where she’d clearly run her hand through it. Clay was an amazing glue. Especially for hair. She’d never bothered with makeup, and her scars...one made a glaring red line from her ear, along her jaw, then up to the corner of her mouth. Another wiggled from her hairline to her right eye, by the bridge of her nose.

  He’d seen her like this and still asked her out?

  She was a long way from Hollywood.

  Serena stepped under the spray of her shower and tried to imagine what her parents would have to say about her appearance. The words escaped her. Then again, maybe they wouldn’t say anything. They’d be too appalled to speak. The first memory she had in the hospital after the accident was her mother trying to apply foundation around her bandages, as if that was somehow going to fix everything. It had been a relief to everyone when Serena had insisted she was fine and had sent them back to work.

  Clean and dressed in jeans and a casual T-shirt, Serena gathered her hair into a ponytail and quickly fixed her face. She couldn’t make the lines disappear completely, but she could mask them well enough that the casual observer didn’t notice. Or if they noticed, they weren’t obvious enough to need to be remarked upon. She checked the time on her phone and slid her feet into low-heeled sandals. Just over an hour. Well, she’d warned him.

  He didn’t look as if he’d moved an inch. “Ready?”

  Micah tucked a bookmark between the pages and stood, a smile spreading over his face. “Yeah. You look nice.”

  “I clean up pretty well.”

  He chuckled. “Any preferences for dinner? I’d been thinking of L’Aubergine. I haven’t made time to try it yet—didn’t seem like the kind of place you go alone from what Mal and Ruth have said—but we might not be dressed for it.”

  “Probably not.” She could change easily enough. But would he want to go back to his place and extend their meal even more? “Casual is fine. I’ve eaten at every place in town and like them. So really, whatever is fine.”

  “Hmm. I could go for a Reuben, then. Jukebox okay?”

  She grinned. “Always. Their fries...I can’t get enough of them.”

  “You should try the onion rings sometime.” Micah pulled open the passenger door to his car and held it for her.

  Serena gave him a long look before she sat. Who held doors open anymore? She reached for the handle as he pushed the door shut. Huh. She watched him circle around to the driver’s side and fastened her seatbelt. “I have used doors before.”

  “Okay. If that’s going to bother you, maybe we should just call it a day. My mother ingrained into all of us that courtesy—which includes doing things like opening and holding doors—isn’t optional. It’s also not an indication that I think you’re incapable. Why do people jump to that conclusion? It was like that a lot in D.C., too.” Micah buckled his seatbelt but made no move to start the car. “Why isn’t the immediate response along the lines of ‘Thank you. That was kind.’?”

  Heat seared her cheeks. It was a valid question. Was there a reason her reaction was always negative? “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’d really like to know, though.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. In the meantime, I’ll work on not letting it bother me if you won’t be offended if I open a door when I get to it first.”

  Micah chuckled and started the car. “Deal. So. Onion rings?”

  “Only if you’re having some.” Onions didn’t seem like the thing to eat on a date. And this was definitely a date. She could make a case either way for the pizza lunch having been a date—maybe he was just been being kind when he paid for hers—but this had all the date indicators.

  “Oh, yeah. I never skip the rings at the Jukebox. Reuben and rings. It’s my go-to meal there.”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for a sandwich. You’re surrounded by bread all day.”

  “True. But this is bread I didn’t make. Although, they’ve talked to us a couple of times about collaboration. We’re not sure how to manage the production and keep the quality where we want it. Jonah’s thinking things through. If anyone can find a way, it’ll be him.”r />
  What would it be like to have siblings? “There are four of you, right? You like it?”

  “Yeah. It has its moments, of course. Sometimes the three of them get an idea and gang up on you until you cave and drive somewhere to ask a woman to dinner, for example.”

  Was he joking? He had to be, right? “Hypothetically speaking, I’m sure.”

  He shook his head and turned into the Jukebox parking lot. It was busy—not crazily—but they certainly wouldn’t have the place to themselves. He cast a side-eye glance in her direction. “I was going to get around to it.”

  “I’ll have to send them a thank you note.” After he parked, she pushed open her door before he had a chance to ask her to wait while he came to get it. There were limits. There had to be. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.”

  Micah smiled. “So am I.”

  7

  Micah held the door for Serena. She was clearly fighting to keep from rolling her eyes, but he couldn’t help it. “I know, I know, you’re perfectly capable.”

  “Two, please.” Serena glanced over her shoulder. “Or was I supposed to let you say that, too?”

  He sighed. “Nope. You’re good.”

  On the one hand, she had a smart mouth and wasn’t afraid to use it. It was a nice change from the quiet girls who were too worried about what he’d think to say how they really felt about something until they’d been together for several weeks—and then only after he’d done something wrong without knowing it. On the other hand, was he ever going to stop making missteps? He was doing the best he could.

  “Right this way.” The hostess made a mark on the podium seating chart, collected two plastic-coated menus, and started off toward the far side of the restaurant.

  Micah followed behind Serena. Maybe he should’ve elbowed her aside and gone first just to prove he didn’t think she was incapable of bringing up the rear, but it seemed rude.

  When they were seated in a booth, Serena flipped her menu open on the table top. “It’s busier than I thought it’d be.”

  “What’s better than a milkshake on Friday night?” Micah shrugged. He probably spent too many Friday nights at the Jukebox. But it was good to get out of the house and Ruth and Corban’s ham-handed attempts to set him up with random women from church. Jonah solved the problem by disappearing into his room, but Micah couldn’t bring himself to be that way. So he’d sat through quite a few awkward “game nights” that “just happened to pop up.”

  “You have a point. Hmm. Does a milkshake go with onion rings?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Micah?” Pamela Hadley and her husband, friends of Corban and Ruth, paused at their table. “We haven’t seen you in a while. Ruth says you’ve been keeping to yourself.”

  He cleared his throat. “Just trying to stay under the radar. Where are the boys?”

  “My parents are babysitting.” Emerson reached out and shook Micah’s hand. “Date night is easy when you’ve got family in town.”

  “Nice. Tell the boys I said hi and that I’m going to crush them the next time they’re over. I’ve been practicing my video game driving skills and don’t fall off the track nearly as often anymore.” Micah caught Pamela’s pointed look at Serena and fought a sigh. “This is Serena Johnson. Serena, this is Pamela and Emerson Hadley. They’re friends of Corban who went ahead and adopted the rest of us when he and my sister got married.”

  Pamela laughed. “Like that was a hardship. It’s so nice to meet you. I hope it’s not weird when I say I’ve been a big fan for forever. Emerson can tell you all about how I’ve been scheming to meet you in person.”

  “It’s true.” Emerson grinned. “You have no idea how many close calls you’ve had.”

  “That’s never weird and always a pleasure. I wish you hadn’t felt like you shouldn’t come and introduce yourself though.” Serena scooted over, making room in the booth. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Micah looked between the two women. What was going on? He turned to Emerson. “She’s a big pottery fan?”

  Emerson shook his head. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  Micah minded. A lot. He opened his mouth to object.

  “Of course not.” Serena patted the seat.

  Heart sinking, Micah made room for Emerson on the booth. “Can someone help me out? I’m a little lost.”

  “Seriously?” Pamela laughed.

  Micah shrugged.

  “Maybe you know the name Serena VanderMay better?” Serena straightened the wrapped silverware in front of her before meeting his gaze.

  It was a jolt. He’d seen the resemblance and dismissed it as a coincidence. There were a lot of pretty redheads in the world. But...no way. “You’re her? Johnson is...?”

  “My real last name. It’s not a secret. Pretty sure my Wikipedia page even has a link to my pottery website.” Serena shrugged. “I just don’t call attention to it if I can avoid it.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Pamela winced. “I never even thought—”

  “Don’t be silly. I don’t mind.” Serena’s gaze locked with Micah’s. “Close your mouth.”

  Micah snapped his teeth together. He was on a date with Serena VanderMay? There was absolutely no way to process that right now. He pushed the knowledge deep into his mind and wiped his palms on his jeans. “Okay. So. Should we order?”

  * * *

  “How was the date?” Jonah slipped a scrap of paper between the pages of his book and set it aside as Micah kicked the door of the farmhouse closed and toed off his shoes.

  Micah crossed to the living room and dropped onto the couch. “Did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  He studied his brother’s face. Jonah had tells when he was hiding something. None of them were evident. That helped a little. Very little. Did Malachi and Ruth know? Both of them had mentioned his crush. Could it possibly be coincidence? “It’s her.”

  “Serena is her...? I’m so lost.” Jonah leaned forward. “Let’s start over. How was your date?”

  Micah groaned. “Good. I guess. Pam and Emerson were at the Jukebox, too. They ended up sitting with us.”

  “Hmm. Sometimes having other people around keeps the conversation flowing. Still, it was a little strange for them to horn in on your date.”

  “Serena invited them to join us after Pam started gushing about how she was a huge fan.” Micah watched Jonah closely. If his brother knew, he was doing a great job hiding it.

  “She’s a pottery fan? That’s...weird. I mean, Serena’s talented, but a fan?”

  “Exactly. I said something along those lines and Serena’s all ‘Maybe you’d know me better as Serena VanderMay.’”

  “No way.”

  Micah smiled. His brother looked about like he probably had at the restaurant. “Pretty much. And close your mouth.”

  “You went on a date with Serena VanderMay. The Serena VanderMay? Dude.” Jonah shook his head. “How’d we miss that?”

  “I did point out the resemblance. But why would she be here?” Arcadia Valley wasn’t exactly the scene anyone would associate with the media-loving, no-holds-barred, just on the edge of bad girl Serena VanderMay. Micah sighed. How was he supposed to reconcile the Serena he’d been getting to know with the girl who’d lived her life on the front page of every skeezy tabloid? “And maybe that’s the point.”

  “New place, new life?” Jonah grinned. “Sounds like the four of us. Did you ask her?”

  “No. It didn’t seem like the time and place. Especially not with Pam and Emerson sitting there. I don’t know.”

  Jonah frowned. “What?”

  “You know the major thing I had for her as a teenager. But you’re not supposed to have the chance to get to know a celebrity crush. They’re fantasies for a reason.” Micah shook his head. Who actually got the chance to date the famous person they imagined themselves in love with? Other famous people, that’s who. Not some random guy who quit working with kids to help his brothers open a community-supported b
akery.

  The front door opened and Malachi kicked off his shoes before closing it behind him. He looked up and his grin turned into a frown. “Why are you home already, Micah?”

  “Good to see you, too, bro.”

  Jonah laughed. “We could ask you the same thing. You were on a date with your fiancée, I’m pretty sure those are supposed to last longer than first dates.”

  Malachi’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “I...needed to come home.”

  “Are you sick?” Micah stood. “Sit down. I’ll go make some tea. Or do you need soup?”

  “I’m not sick.” Malachi crossed the room and plopped into a chair. “But your concern is touching, even if I’m pretty sure it’s just a diversionary tactic.”

  His brother didn’t look sick. Micah frowned. “Did you make Ursula mad?”

  Malachi made a strangled sound. “No. She’s fine. We’re fine. We’re just...ready to be married. And until we are, we agreed that our dates needed to be in public places or with friends. Or maybe both. Since neither of those were the case tonight, I needed to come home.”

  “Oh.” Micah grinned, even as a little pang of something—couldn’t be jealousy, could it?—hit him mid-chest. “Got it.”

  “And so we return to my previous question: why are you home so early?” Malachi wriggled to get more comfortable before propping his feet on the coffee table and pinning Micah with his gaze.

  Micah shrugged and related the date, this time with Jonah interspersing pithy comments throughout.

  “Huh.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Micah shook his head. “Thanks. That’s very helpful.”

  “I try.” Malachi smiled and held up his hand before Micah could say anything. “If we take the whole celebrity crush out of it, I guess I’m still confused. You like her. You have interesting conversations. You find her attractive. So what’s the problem?”