Too Sweet to Be Good

by K. M. Jackson

  “So how do you two know each other?” Drea asked, not able to hold her concerns behind her tongue.

  Clayton shrugged. “It’s Sugar Lake; just about everybody knows everybody. But if you want to get specific, this one here and I used to play rec league ball together.” He turned back to Kellen. “Hey, if you still play, me and the guys still get in a game twice a week at the school gym around seven—feel free to stop by.”

  Kellen looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment as he glanced over at Hope, then back to Clayton. “That will be great. And yeah, I still hit the court every once in a while. So I may take you up on that game.”

  Clayton grinned. “Cool. Just remember we’re not kids anymore. No need to come out trying to be all LeBron on us.”

  The Suit laughed. “As if. Look at you, Mr. Fire Chief. I should call you LeBron.” Drea watched as Clayton did the whole “aww man” humble thing and the Suit did likewise. She was grateful for the lovefest breakup when Liv came out of the kitchen, pulling her man’s attention away as Aunt Joyce went to help out with customers behind the counter.

  Liv put her arm comfortably around Clayton’s waist as he bent down to give her a warm kiss. Drea had to admit she was happy that her sister was so open and loving with Clayton Morris, and that they felt so secure in their relationship that they were able to express their love in this way. Even though she rolled her eyes as if she was slightly embarrassed, Hope walked over, accepting the one-armed embrace from Liv as she bent down to kiss her on the top of her head.

  “Your family is beautiful,” Kellen said. The sight of her sister so free and easy and the Suit’s assumed words caught Drea off guard. She didn’t know what to do with the unexpected feeling of longing that suddenly grabbed her.

  “Yes, they are, and I am a very lucky man,” Clayton responded as if it was the most natural thing. Drea swallowed, suddenly so happy for her sister, who a year before almost seemed like a different person. Looking at her now with Clayton and Hope, they did seem like family and it all looked right. Drea suspected that if things continued the way they were a proposal might not be too far off. Though she’d envisioned happiness for her sister, she’d never imagined it quite as right as this, though she was embarrassed to say it.

  “What about the four of us getting together over at Jolie’s? How’s about tonight? You and Drea can come by after you finish working over at the theater and I’ll bring Liv.”

  At Kellen’s expression Liv smiled and reached out a hand to him. Drea would have laughed if he hadn’t looked so confused and a tad bit horrified. “Trust me, don’t look so afraid; it’s not like it’s a double date or anything. He just teamed us up because I’m this one’s older sister. Those are my biscuits you’re eating. Well, mine and Aunt Joyce’s—I’m not going to overstep and have my aunt happen to slip and throw something at me.”

  “Good save, girly! Because I was about to throw this dish towel from clear across the room!” Aunt Joyce yelled, once again proving that nothing got past her eagle ears.

  “Well, um, thank you. Your biscuits are delicious.” The Suit raised his voice. “Almost as good as the originals.”

  Aunt Joyce laughed.

  But then Kellen looked over at Drea and added, “Believe me, I didn’t think it would be a date.”

  “As if. And I don’t know. This is my braid-washing night, you know,” Drea said as she walked away not even wanting to give this conversation any more brain space than it was currently taking up. Suddenly her heart was beating way too fast and she didn’t like the direction any of this was going.

  She started in on Kellen’s order, resisting the sudden urge to go back and slip in one of Aunt Joyce’s sausages. Nope, she wouldn’t do it. That was just a little added specialty for his first day back. Now that this was turning into what looked like a regular thing, she should just give the man what he asked for and move on from there. As her sister came back, she gave her a nudge in the shoulder. Drea hissed, “I’m gonna kill your boyfriend, you know that, right?”

  Liv chuckled. “With shoulders and eyes like that? You are not. Just be sure to put a couple extra biscuits in his to-go bag and I’ll give Clayton a thank-you kiss and tell him it’s from you later.” She reached in the pie case and added one of her new breakfast meat pies to the Suit’s order.

  Drea held back the urge to sneer as her sister made her way back to the kitchen, her own little sanctuary, an extra pep in her step and a hum on her lips.

  Coming back to Kellen’s table with his order, she noted he barely gave her a second glance as he was deep in low tones on a phone conversation. Still, Drea caught the thread of frustration and urgency in his voice as he said something about rescheduling and sending over documents to a person named Tracy. She was about to walk away when his hand reached out and touched her on the wrist, the surprising action sending a sizzle up her arm as it had her turning around abruptly.

  He quickly removed his hand and put both up in a defensive posture, letting her know that he wasn’t trying to be offensive by touching her. Then, pressing a button on his phone, he looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you.” His tone was all business as his gaze met hers squarely. “And I appreciate the little extra. How did you know I was extra hungry this morning?” A slight grin hinted at the corner of his mouth and a bit of sparkle came to his light-colored eyes.

  Great. So the food got a smile.

  Drea shrugged her shoulders. “Lucky guess,” she mumbled.

  Just then the door to the shop chimed and more patrons came in, saving her from coming up with any extra conversation. She’d never been happier to see hungry tourists.

  * * *

  Kellen knew he shouldn’t stare, but stare he did. He couldn’t help it, just like he couldn’t help finding himself biking to Goode ’N Sweet at the first hint of dawn that morning. Sure, he told himself, taking his bike out was a replacement for his usual morning gym run, and heck, the excuse even sounded—barely—plausible in his own head. But barely was enough to get him there, and now that he was pretty much a fixture at the bakeshop, maybe he could stop coming up with excuses.

  Watching her as she chatted easily with the customers, smelling the pies as they were baking, the sweet aroma of the sugar mixed with the smooth warmth of the butter, Kellen could admit it brought him a feeling of comfort he didn’t know he’d been missing in his place in Atlanta. And sadly, he couldn’t quite capture that feeling back at his grandparents’ now that his grandfather was gone.

  That thought brought on a certain amount of unease and guilt; he knew he had to fix it for both himself and his grandmother. Kellen picked up his coffee cup and took a sip, almost hating how perfect it was once again. Crap, it took him walking past three coffeehouses in his own neighborhood to get to the one that made a cup of coffee this good. How was it that she was able to pull it out on the first try? The thought both bolstered and perplexed him at the same time. He hated that he could find something to grow attached to in this town that he very much needed to detach himself from.

  Kellen let out a sigh as his phone beeped three times in rapid succession, indicating that Tracy had sent the files on ahead that he requested. He couldn’t believe he was still in Sugar Lake missing meetings, rearranging them to be video conference meetings, all to try to convince his grandmother of something—which was now looking to be a fruitless endeavor.

  Nevertheless, he still had to figure out a way to salvage the Ronson deal now if it turned out he couldn’t get the Redheart back on the table. After talking with his grandmother again last night, he decided to split his time and yes, be more hands on here in Sugar Lake with the reno. Something she’d clearly got on the horn and shared with Miss Joyce between then and this morning. Not that he wanted either the reno or to be in Sugar Lake, but after seeing his grandmother out on the gazebo and the awful fear that brought on, he knew he had to find a way to ensure her safety while still maintaining the relationship they’d come to love and cherish. She was all he had left. All he’d
had that he knew he could count on. Kellen couldn’t risk losing any part of it. Though he’d still go back and forth to Atlanta, he’d stay and get things settled here at home base, and hopefully when all was said and done, the RPG deal would be signed and he’d have his grandmother settled too, safer and closer to him.

  Chapter 11

  Hope Floats

  Drea arrived at the theater later that morning at the same time as Kellen. Though feeling less awkward than at their previous meetings, she still couldn’t help the immediate sensations of both tension and excitement when she saw him pull up beside her on his bike after she’d made her way from the bakery once the morning rush had ended.

  “Wow, you really are getting in the miles on that thing today, aren’t you?” she said, by way of conversation. Clearly, he’d come from his place because he’d changed out of his earlier attire and, though not a Suit on a bike, he was wearing what looked to be a designer T-shirt—she could tell by its fine quality, double stitching, and the silky way it draped across his shoulders and chest—and easy woven shorts of equally fine quality.

  “Well, after bringing my grandmother her breakfast this morning, I found that I was still a little restless. Also, it felt good to get my bike out again. I don’t get to ride as much as I’d like when I’m in the city. So, stretching my legs is a nice change of pace. Besides, it’s not that long of a ride from our place into town.”

  A part of Drea inwardly frowned, so she guessed the tentatively scheduled meet up over at Jolie’s was now off—well, at least in his mind. Jolie’s was quite a hike, heading to the highway. Did he plan to bike it there too? Oh well, what did it matter to her? She’d be better not sharing a meal with him anyway. She inwardly huffed as puzzle pieces started to meld together. He probably biked just for that reason.

  So what? She could still head to Jolie’s herself. Be the third-wheel little sister. It was a role she was born to play. Enjoy dinner, make her sister crazy, and get a free meal in the process, because Clayton would be too upstanding a fireman do-gooder to let her pay. It was a win-win for her on all fronts. This time she shrugged for real before turning and making her way to the theater entrance.

  She and Kellen were stopped short when they found the theater door already unlocked and were greeted by the sound of Mrs. Betty’s voice, full of excitement as she conversed with someone just inside the viewing room’s entrance.

  Stepping into the space, Drea could practically feel the heat of the annoyance as it radiated off Kellen’s body. It was so hot her instinct was to step back to avoid being burned. Mrs. Betty was being all happy and chipper while in animated conversation with Ray Nash, one of the town’s biggest contractors. Archer Jove, Mrs. Kilborn’s architect, flanked her other side. Drea smiled at the sight of Archer. He’d not been in the bakery for a while, having gone on a low carb diet. The last time he was in, he’d bought two pecan twists and told her it was a last hurrah before saying good-bye.

  “Hello, Mrs. Betty, Mr. Nash, Archer. I didn’t expect to see you all here today.”

  Drea nodded toward Ray, and then looked at Mrs. Betty. “Wow, you’re here even before we are today. I didn’t expect you to beat me,” she said with a genuine smile.

  “I didn’t expect any of you here at all,” Kellen said from by her shoulder. “Grandmother, I thought you told me you had an appointment. You could’ve let me know that the appointment was here. We could have ridden into town together.”

  “I could have, yes.” For some reason Drea had a feeling that Mrs. Betty was making up excuses on the spot. “But my scheduled plans changed along the way into town and I decided to call up Ray here to discuss our plans for the theater. Let him know what I was thinking after our conversations. We have known him forever and he has an excellent reputation. I think he should work up a bid for us.” She turned to Archer then. “And of course, Archer should be here for this. Why, when he called the house returning your call to meet, I thought why not have all of us meet up. That way everyone’s on the same page.”

  Though she didn’t know the particulars, judging by Mrs. Betty’s tone and the quick frost that came over the air, Drea had a feeling the Suit was in some hot water. She could practically hear his internal groan. He turned Ray Nash’s way and gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for coming in on my grandmother’s quick call, Mr. Nash.” He looked at Archer then. “And thanks for returning my call, Archer. I’m sure freeing your schedule for such a hastily put together meeting must not have been easy.”

  Archer smiled, showing his perfect white teeth and flashing playful dimples. “It’s not a problem. I’d drop anything and everything for Mrs. Betty and I’m happy to help in any way I can, though I know you’re in good hands with Mr. Nash here. As I was just explaining, you won’t need my consulting all that much. I’m sure Mr. Nash will have it all under control.”

  “See, darling,” Mrs. Betty chimed in then. “Didn’t I tell you it would all be just fine? You haven’t a thing in the world to worry about.”

  Kellen smiled. It seemed fluid and easy, but Drea felt that she could pick up on his cues, and everything about the way he smiled and spoke said that he knew this wasn’t just a quickly set-up meeting by Mrs. Betty, but something she tactically planned. He was being played and Drea could tell that Kellen hated being played, just like she could also tell that he wasn’t about to call his grandmother out in front of this group of people.

  Drea watched as Kellen’s eyes narrowed further and his brows knit tight when two of Ray’s five sons came down from the upper levels—tall, dark, burly, and muscular, that summed up the Nash boys. The eldest, King Nash, gave Drea a quick smile and a nod while his younger brother, Griffin Nash, added a slow up and down and a lazy smile to his drawn-out greeting. “Good to see you again, Drea. Been way too long since I’ve gotten in some of your sweet honey biscuits.”

  “Has it now?” Drea kept her voice even. Months ago, she’d gone on a couple of dates with Griffin Nash. Two to be exact, which was one too many. Though the first was nice enough, on the second he got unexpectedly handsy and had to get his behind handed to him in the form of a quick verbal smack-down that let him know who she was and where she was from.

  She’d told him that she wasn’t quite as impressed as he thought she would be by what he called a fancy dinner at the town’s country club. In addition, the fact that lobster bisque came along with the prix fixe dinner didn’t entitle him to any more than a kind thank-you when he dropped her off back at home later that evening. Obviously, by the tone of his greeting today, it seemed Griffin might need a bit of a reminder.

  Kellen continued to speak then, looking his grandmother directly in the eye with a tight smile. “Grandmother, do you mind if we speak outside for a moment? There is a bit of business we should discuss.” He turned to the collective crowd, a gentle hand on his grandmother’s forearm to lead her away. “If you all would just excuse us for a moment.”

  Suddenly Drea had visions of the ultimate western standoff taking place in the movie lobby. A scene from High Noon complete with tumbleweeds rolling between Kellen and Mrs. Betty with the old popcorn maker the only witness for the carnage about to take place.

  But the standoff wasn’t nearly as long as a midday feature and in little to no time Kellen and Mrs. Betty returned, their expressions letting everyone know who’d won the standoff by a landslide.

  Kellen cleared his throat and spoke as Mrs. Betty beamed triumphantly from by his side. She may as well have been wearing a WWE championship belt with that smile, and Drea almost wanted to stand up and cheer over the marvel of the sheer force of the little woman.

  “Please tell me what you think we need,” Kellen said. Somehow Drea knew how much gruffly blurting this out hurt his pride. “And keep in mind, we’re on a budget here, Archer, Mr. Nash.”

  “Says you!” Mrs. Betty added cheerfully, and even Kellen caught on that this bit of extra was just to get under his skin.

  He leaned over and put an arm around his grandmother, then be
nt down to kiss the top of her forehead. “What am I going to do with you, lady?” he said softly, and a small part of Drea melted at the unexpectedly sweet gesture.

  Flipping on a dime, he turned to Ray Nash, his tone back to business. “Mr. Nash?”

  “You can call me Ray, Kellen. I think you’ve grown up enough for that.”

  Kellen reluctantly smiled. Ray Nash, helping break some of the tension in the room. More of his icy demeanor thawed as he shook his head. “Now, Mr. Nash, you know that won’t possibly work. How about we do a walk-through and you tell me your thoughts.”

  They proceeded to start walking through the theater. At this point, Drea was beginning to feel like she could take on yet another job as a Redheart page, giving historical tours, but she was surprised during their walk to once again be pleasantly shocked by some new discoveries in the Redheart. It was the little architectural gift that kept on giving. And when Mrs. Betty was taking them around, the pride and love practically exploded from her.

  It was good seeing that spark that had dulled the day her husband had closed his eyes. At least Drea could see that, if only for fleeting moments, Mrs. Betty could get it back. That was something. It was worrisome, the immediate change that had come over the normally jubilant older woman. Sure, it was to be expected, but even to her aunt there was a cause for alarm. She was starting to think her aunt was right; Mrs. Betty needed this project. Mr. Henry went too soon. So quick that she didn’t have any time to prepare. Without this project, she may have been forever looking for the good-bye that was stolen from her.

  “And you all wouldn’t believe the time we had with these curtains.” Drea looked at Mrs. Betty as she talked animatedly about the theater’s curtains. “The originals were completely destroyed, or nearly so, when we got the place. They were unusable. So these were imported from a theater in Paris. Henry ordered them special. But then they arrived, as is, mind you,” she said.