by Taylor Dean
We all laugh at Brit’s statement as Mom pats my shoulder.
“What’s the problem?” Spencer asks.
Where do I even begin? “Jace is back and, well, you saw that video last night. I’m completely overwhelmed. I’m scared of getting hurt. I’m worried about honesty and trust, I’m terrified of finding myself in another bad marriage, and most of all I’m petrified of my strong feelings for a man who will probably break my heart again.”
“That all?” Stony says, his face deadpan.
I laugh in spite of the tears welling in my eyes. Stony reaches across the table and holds my hand in his. “Want me to kick his butt?”
I laugh again and wipe away an errant tear. Stony will defend me to the death and I love him for it. But, in spite of their age difference, Jace was always one of his good friends and I know he has a great deal of respect for him. “I’ll let you know.”
“All of that is more than enough to send the strongest among us over the deep end,” Spencer says as she kisses Sophie’s forehead. I’m grateful for her understanding nature. “I know this might sound a bit cliché, but my advice would be to trust your instincts. If you have strong feelings for him, ask yourself why you feel that way. Is it just because he has a handsome face? Is it physical attraction? Or do your feelings run deeper than that? Why? What is it about him that makes you love him? Is he kind? Compassionate? Funny? Usually when you can answer that question truthfully, you have the answer you’re looking for. You’ll know if what you feel is shallow or real.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She’s certainly given me something to think about. “What if he has a fatal flaw?”
“Do you love him enough to overlook it? No one is perfect. The trick is to find the person who is perfect for you.”
Jace isn’t perfect, that’s for sure. But neither am I. Still, I can’t overlook infidelity. No way. Hence my dilemma. I let out a sigh as I realize my thoughts are moving in circles. I’m pretty sure Spencer would tell me to run for the hills if I told her the whole truth. In a weird way, I don’t want anyone besides Mom to know the truth about what he did. Mom doesn’t even know the whole truth. I don’t want them to think ill of him. Crazy, I know.
“What is it that made you fall for this dork?” I ask Spencer.
Stony winks at me. “My winning personality.”
Spencer thinks for a minute and says, “His incomplete sentences. He always leaves me wanting more.”
“Good answer.” I laugh as Stony and Spencer share a quick kiss. I know they had some drama in their relationship over Mia. But they worked it out. I guess smooth sailing is a bit of a myth. All relationships take effort.
The question is, am I willing to put effort into Jace?
I don’t have an answer to that. Time will tell.
CHAPTER
Seven
THE BELL ON the bakery door dings, alerting me that I have a customer. I wipe my hands on my apron and hope that I’m not covered with a light dusting of flour. It’s not a good look on me. I really need to hire another employee to cover the front while I’m in the back baking.
When I see who is at my front counter, studying the display of baked goods, I pause.
Jace Faraday.
His words wander through my mind. I’ve always loved you, Shay. No matter how much time passes, that will never change. His declaration has been in my mind on auto-repeat and I can’t find the off button. I can’t lie, the thought makes me tingle from head to toe. Of course, a lack of love for one another was never our issue.
I wish I could duck back into the kitchen and hide, but this is my business and I am a professional. I don’t hide from customers. He looks up as I enter. He doesn’t smile and neither do I. We observe each other, checking each other out after the years we’ve been apart.
I need to make a decision. Do I want to renew our relationship or not? Do I want to be friendly and nice or tear into him? I’m so torn. And mad. And in love. And confused. I’m a hot mess.
My mantra is lost to me. I am completely accessible and passable when it comes to Jace. That’s why I’m so wary of him.
Jace hooks his thumbs on the belt loops of his jeans. “You haven’t aged a day. You still look nineteen.”
I have to admit, he looks downright amazing, but I don’t return the compliment. Apparently he shook the monkey on his back. Either that or he hides it well. Maybe he just dabbled in alcohol for a while and then came to his senses. He seems to be the picture of health and vitality—very different from the lingering memory of him splayed out on his bed in a drunken stupor.
I decide to be polite. I will feel immature making snide comments to him like I did the other day. Just like forgiveness is for me, being polite is for me as well. I don’t want to be that person. I have to live with myself when this is over.
Wait. Why do I assume this will be over? Maybe I need to listen to my inner voice. Apparently it knows things before I do. I shake my head to rid it of negative thoughts. “May I help you?” I say as if he’s just another customer.
His eyes flash with slight irritation, but he quickly hides it. “I saw your sign outside. I didn’t realize you’d opened a specialty bakery. Mom has to be careful with what she eats right now. I thought I’d pick something up for her.”
I’m nervous around him, so I hide behind my business persona. “She loves the Chocolate Drop cookies. They’re gluten, sugar, and dairy-free.”
He grimaces. “And taste-free?”
“Would you like to try a sample?”
“Will I turn into a blueberry and have to be rolled away by oompa-loompas?”
“It’s never happened to anyone yet, but I promise nothing.”
“You’re not inspiring confidence in me.”
“Just be brave.” I hand him a cookie and notice my hand is shaking ever so slightly. I hate my nerves. He takes it, studies it for much longer than necessary, and finally throws caution to the wind and takes a large bite. He chews for a moment with a thoughtful expression, then his eyebrows rise, “Hey, that’s pretty good. There’s no sugar in this?”
“Nope. It’s sweetened with coconut sugar and made with chickpea and almond flour. There are other ingredients too, but those are the main ones.”
“Chickpeas? Whoa, now. I feel cheated and lied to. Absolutely betrayed.”
“May I remind you, you just said it tasted good.”
“I did, didn’t I? Go figure.” He shakes his head. “It’s actually delicious. I’ll take a dozen.”
As I gather the cookies and place them in a box, he says, “So, tell me, how did you come up with the name of your bakery? I’m curious.”
I named my bakery Liberated Baked Goods. Underneath my store name in smaller writing, it reads: For Specialty Diets. Featuring Gluten-free, Grain-free, Sugar-free, & Dairy-free. I made sure the lettering was readable from a distance so customers would know what my bakery was all about before they ever enter. Otherwise I would have some very disappointed sugar-seeking customers. If the general public would give some of my goods a chance, they would find some delicious and healthy food. Still, I have a pretty good following so far and business has been good. The storefront is not teeming with customers at all hours of the day, but special orders have been consistent, keeping me quite busy.
“I liked the idea of liberating those that are limited by health issues. People who can’t have gluten, grains, or sugar, should still be able to enjoy a cookie or two. Or even a chocolate cake. Liberated Baked Goods just seemed to fit perfectly.” Secretly, the word holds a double meaning to me. I was liberated from a confining marriage and I love the constant reminder. But I don’t share that tidbit with others, especially Jace.
He looks at me cautiously, as if he feels his eyes are misbehaving. “You’re doing a good thing.”
I shrug. “I love to bake and it brings in a paycheck. I enjoy trying to help people with many types of eating restrictions. Or people who just want to eat a little healthier.”
�
�Shhh, don’t say that too loud. It’s a bad word.”
“Not around here it isn’t.”
I hear the timer go off in the kitchen and ignore his humor. No more Ladybug and all that. “Excuse me a minute, please.” I dash off and remove the muffins from the oven, then rush back to the front counter.
“Are you shorthanded?”
“Yes. I have another baker, but she’s out on maternity leave. I also need to hire a new employee to run the front counter. Tracy, the lady who was supposed to work today called in sick because she,” I clear my throat, “said she ate too much cheese yesterday.”
Jace rocks back on his heels. “Say it isn’t so.”
I hold my hands up. “That’s the honest truth. You can’t make this stuff up.”
“Either she’s a really bad liar or she’s really honest.”
“Last week she called in because she ate too much junk food over the weekend. I question her eating habits.”
“I question her sanity.”
Jace smiles and I smile back at him. I love that we’re slipping into a semblance of normalcy so easily. Just like old times. Things were always easy between us and I miss it. It would be so simple to forget everything, erase the past, and just move forward. But I can’t forget. Not possible. The past has to be addressed or it will hang over our heads. In spite of my strong feelings, I just can’t renew our relationship. At least, not yet. It’s asking too much of me.
My smile fades and I frown while I complete his transaction. Mom was right. It feels good to forgive the past, let my bitterness go, and just be friends. It grants me a peaceful feeling. I don’t want to spend my time tossing angry words his way. But, a second chance really is another story. I’m glad I’ve finally realized I can separate the two. It took me long enough.
“Need some help?”
“Yes. Like I said, I’m shorthanded. I placed an ad today and I already have five interviews lined up for tomorrow. Things will get better.”
“No, I mean would you like some help today? I’m available.”
Oh. I feel the blood leave my face. No. No way. “Oh, uh, no, I’ll be fine. Go and spend time with your mother. That’s what you came home for.”
“That’s not all I came home for.”
Does he mean me? Another one of those awkward staring-into-each-other’s-eyes moments happens again. Dang, I love his eyes. I should fear losing my heart, but I’ve never gotten it back from the last time I fell for him.
“I’m sure your Mom is missing you.”
“She’s with Mia today. I had a few errands to run and already finished them. My afternoon belongs to you, Shay. I’m at your service.”
Jace is still a charmer—that much is clear. And I’m a flustered mess. I don’t want just an afternoon, I want everything with Jace Faraday. Absolutely everything. But he can’t give it to me. Not six years ago—and I doubt he can give me everything now.
This isn’t wise, but I accept his help anyway. Mom’s right, we have unfinished business. I need to discover what kind of man he is today. I owe it to myself. He’s either the cheater I know him to be or he’s a changed man. I am insatiably curious to find out. “If you’re up to tangling with a pile of dishes, I won’t argue.”
He rolls up his sleeves and I’ve never found forearms so sexy. I swear his eyes glitter at me. “Ready to tangle.”
Yeah, me too. All I can think is, here we go again. I hope my marshmallow heart can resist him. Either that or the big black monster inside of me will beat him up.
He starts to wash while I place the muffins on a display platter.
“What kind of muffins are those? Or will the knowledge hurt my ears?”
“It might. They’re gluten, sugar, and dairy-free banana nut muffins, made with chickpea and coconut flour.”
“Why chickpeas?”
“It doesn’t have to be chickpeas. I can make flour out of many different items. Like bean flour, spinach flour, kale flour, or almost any type of nut can be made into flour, like almond flour or hazelnut flour. The pea flour I most commonly use is actually a four-pea flour. I use green peas, yellow peas, chickpeas, and black-eyed peas. I almost always use a mixture of different types of flours in a recipe, then the flavor is not overpowered by one ingredient.”
“Huh. I’m not sure how you even think of doing such a thing.”
“Diet restrictions due to health issues make a person creative.”
“Makes sense.” He smiles but it looks more like a scowl. “I think I’ve landed in the Twilight Zone for food.”
I laugh it off. Many people respond the same way when they hear what I bake. I’m used to it. Until they try it. Then they are amazed and astounded at how good it tastes. And surprised that it’s actually healthy for them.
Jace washes a pile of dishes, then grabs a towel and begins to dry them off. He clears his throat and says, “Uh, I think I owe you an apology for my behavior the other day. Seeing you again . . . being here . . . it brings back a lot of old emotions. They got the best of me and I was a little . . . blunt.”
I want to ask if he meant what he said or if he was just caught up in the past, but I’m not sure I want to hear the answer. “No problem.” I’m just going to brush it all under the carpet and face it another day. If he meant what he said, I’m not ready to reciprocate just yet. Confrontation will only end up cornering me.
But my heart—oh, my heart—it will never forget the sound of him professing his love. It is now engraved there for all eternity.
“I’m sorry I was rude to you. Emotions got the best of me as well.”
“Truce?”
“Truce.” I know a truce can’t last forever. At some point, we have to confront our past. For now, this is huge progress. I put together another batch of dough and place it in the mixer.
“Whatchya making now?”
“Hamburger buns. They’re bestsellers. They appeal to people on the Paleo diet because they’re grain-free.”
“Paleo?” Jace furrows his brows as he dries a stainless steel bowl.
I explain, grateful to find a safe subject. “Basically it’s a diet where you only eat what a caveman could eat. If you can hunt or gather it, you can eat it. Mom thinks it’s ridiculous, but there’s a market for it. Of course, Mom thinks most of the popular diets of the day are nonsense and I can’t convince her otherwise.”
“How did you learn to bake all these specialty items?”
“Asher had to eat gluten-free and that’s what got me started. I . . . wasn’t working at the time, so I spent my afternoons baking. My mom taught me how to bake, so I already knew the basics and I’ve always had a love for it. I started to experiment with different recipes and once I got going, I became determined to get them right. Of course, there was a lot of trial and error and a lot of failed recipes, but I kept at it. First I practiced with gluten-free recipes. Once I’d mastered that, I experimented with grain-free. Once I had that down, it was as if I’d broken the code and I could make almost anything and have it turn out. I found it very . . . satisfying. Soon I had an arsenal of perfected recipes. All that time spent experimenting with baking prepared me for opening up my own bakery.”
His eyes narrow and he nods. “Smart cookie,” he says. “Pun intended.”
If I had been a smart cookie, I wouldn’t have stayed with Asher at all. “My time with him wasn’t wasted.”
That gets his attention. “Wasted? Do you feel your marriage was a waste of time?”
“No, but only because it brought Brit into my life. Otherwise, the answer is yes. It was a failure and I chalk that up to a waste of my time.” I’m sure he didn’t expect me to mention my ex-husband. I don’t want to talk about Asher as much as I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about him.
Time to change the subject. Small talk is best right now. “So, what do you think of Grayson?”
“I like him. He’s a genuinely nice person. He sure has made Mia one happy lady. She’s practically glowing. Sometimes I think that girl’s gonna
burst into flames. Although it is weird to see her with someone other than Stony. That’ll take some getting used to.”
“It took all of us awhile to get used to the changes. But Spencer is perfect for Stony and they’re very happy as well.”
Jace nods his head. “Gotta say. It’s a weird turn of events that Stony and Mia married a brother and sister.”
“It is a little crazy. But Stony and Mia have made peace with each other. And Spencer and Mia, well, let’s just say they have an odd sort of friendship between them. It’s a long story.”
“I’m listening.”
I explain the events surrounding the birth of Stony and Spencer’s daughter and Mia’s involvement.
Jace raises his eyebrows. “No one tells me anything. I have a lot to catch up on around here.”
We return to our work and the kitchen is silent for a few minutes. I like the feeling of being together without talking. It’s comfortable. I look up to find him watching me as I place the hamburger bun dough into small metal rings. Then I lift off the metal rings to reveal perfect circles of dough. “When you make a dough out of pea flour it doesn’t look like traditional dough, it’s almost like a paste. But it will rise and it will be delicious.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckles and I give him a dirty look. “In all seriousness, I’m stoked to try every single thing you make. You’re a genius, Shay. You’ve impressed the socks off of me.”
I hide the fact that his words make me feel incredible and I continue working. I love the communication and the camaraderie between us. It seems like the perfect time to spark a more personal conversation.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Jace.” I say it casually without a hint of censure.
He shrugs. “It’s so easy to bury myself in work.”
I quietly contemplate his remark. So, he’s been buried in his work for the last six years—three years of law school and then three years on the job. That’s a long time to stay away. I mean, he’s never even come home for a visit. “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?”
