I Only Have Pies for You

by Shyla Colt

  He sighed. “I understand. I’m just ... I’m not a man who shares well when it matters to me.”

  Her brow dipped low. “And do you believe me to be a woman who does?”

  “I wasn’t insinuating anything, sugar. Just sharing my point of view.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. She glanced around to make sure they weren’t noticed. “What are we going to do?”

  She shrugged. “Is there anything to do?”

  He frowned. “I think so. Otherwise, I’m going to be black and blue from defending your honor from cads trying to cut into a dance they’re not invited to.”

  His words sent warmth through her belly. “I’m flattered you think I’m that desirable, but I think you’re overestimating the response that’ll come from this article,” she said honestly.

  He clenched his jaw. “And if I’m not?”

  “Then it might be time to consider breaking it to our folks,” she answered smoothly.

  “And your date from the auction?”

  Seeing him rattled gave her more pleasure than it should. He’s really into me, isn’t he? “I have no problem letting them know I’m not interested, hero. What’s going on with you?”

  He shook his head. “While we were courting, we existed in a bubble. I never stopped to think about how things might change once you opened the shop.” He paused.

  “And now?” she asked softly.

  “I wanted to make my stance clear.”

  “It’s still a little muddy.” She studied him as he swallowed.

  “I’m in this for the long haul, Rosaleen. I don’t want someone sweeping in and stealing you away because I failed to make my intentions clear.”

  She smiled. “I read you loud and clear. We’re on the same wavelength. I wouldn’t have agreed to date you if I wasn’t. We’ve both been hurt. Keeping the lines of communication open is extremely important.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve said my piece. We can drop it now.”

  “You sure?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. How about you? Are we okay?”

  “We’re good. I’m glad you told me how you felt. I wouldn’t have known otherwise, and things could’ve gotten messy. Emotions have a way of seeping out and spilling into everyday life, whether we wish them too or not.” She smiled brightly. “Enough of that. Break this whole Charity Date auction down to me. I’ve only seen it done in movies.”

  He snickered. “I’ll fill you in as long as you make me a deal.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You bid on me, and I’ll bid on you.”

  “Are you asking me to save you for once, hero?” she teased.

  “Yeah, I am.” He nodded emphatically.

  She laughed. “All right. I think I can handle that.”

  “It’s exactly what it sounds like. You get up on stage in your finest duds, and the bidding war begins. It’s all done in fun, so you don’t need to be nervous. After the bill is settled you exchange information with the person who wins and set up a date. It can be as simple as grabbing a cup of coffee, a lunch, or a romantic dinner. It’s up to the two of you to find out what makes you comfortable.”

  “That sounds fair enough.” She nodded, feeling less apprehensive. They had a plan in place, and in the event that they lost the bids, she had plenty of control over the situation. “Tell me where you’re going to take me for our date.” She smiled.

  “Do you like Italian?”

  “I love it,” she said, happy to move on from the tension.

  “Then I’d say it’s past time we visit Salvatore’s.”

  “But what will people think?” she whispered.

  “That I’m a lucky son of a gun who knows how to treat a lady right.”

  “Aha. Cocky I see.”

  “Confident,” he corrected her.

  “Tomato, tamato.” She waved him off with her hand.

  “How did things go the rest of this week with the bakery?” he asked, genuinely interested.

  “After the grand opening, things trailed off drastically. I saw a pick up this afternoon with the free pairings though.”

  Alaric frowned. “I’m surprised. I’ve heard nothing but good things, my mother included.”

  She shook her head. “It hasn’t translated into sales. It’s still early, but I’m worried. Part of me is hoping my participation in the auction will give me more townie status.”

  “It should.”

  “Speaking of the auction, I hate to cut this short, but I have to go shopping for something appropriate to wear. I haven’t had a chance to do that this week.”

  “Just for reference, my favorite color is red.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, hero.” She smirked as she rose, grabbing her purse.

  “I’ll take care of the trash. I’m going to enjoy a few more moments of solitude.”

  “Poor baby.” She patted his cheek, putting a little extra sway as she walked out, feeling his gaze burning holes into her back.

  HER MOTHER WHISTLED.

  “You’re going to break a few hearts tonight, honey.”

  “I’m hoping to break a few wallets and stone hearts hardened against me being a part of the town,” she admitted honestly.

  Her mother clucked her tongue. “The shop has been open for less than a week. Give it time.”

  She glanced up at the ceiling and took deep breaths, exhaling in a count of four to slow her racing heart. “I’m afraid of not being proactive enough. We can’t survive indefinitely on such little business.”

  “God hasn’t brought you this far to let you fail now. Have some faith.” Her mother squeezed her shoulder gently.

  “I do, Mom. But I know actions have to go along with that.”

  Her mother shook her head. “At least try to enjoy tonight? Take lots of pictures, please.”

  “I will. I’m sure there will be something about it in the papers, too.”

  “I’ll be saving those. Do a spin for me.” Rosaleen slowly did a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn. The off-the-shoulder red dress with cap sleeves stopped mid-thigh and made the most of her curves. Paired with a pair of three-inch black sandals and a mini black leather jacket she looked modern and edgy. She’d straightened her shoulder-length dark brown hair, and done a light make up with bronze theme. Her nude lip highlighted her plump pout without clashing with the bright shade of the dress.

  “Perfection. You might end up with more than you bargained for tonight. An arranged date can end up being a blessing in disguise, you know?” Her mother grinned slyly.

  “Maybe so, Mom.” Humoring her was better than working her up and having to defend herself.

  Her mother took a step back, surprised by her response. “Would you be open to it?”

  “Yes. I’m ready to start dating again. Seeing Ryan again today further convinced me of that. I’m over what I thought we had.”

  “I’m glad. He played his part well for a time, but the truth always comes to light. Thank God that happened before you were married.”

  “Agreed.” She twisted her lips in disgust, imagining the hell marriage between them would’ve turned into. Tossing her straightened hair around her shoulders, she stood tall. “Okay. I’m off. Wish me luck.” Blowing her mother a kiss, she walked out of the door and down the back stairs to the car. Nervous and excited, she drove to the community center wondering what Alaric would be wearing. I’ve never seen him dressed up.

  After parking, she walked inside and found herself hustled to a green room in the back where she was given a number. Ms. Smith, the coordinator, a petite brunette with square, black-framed glasses, an oval face, and a no-nonsense air about her ran over the rules.

  “It’s going to be easy, Ms. Plath. All you have to do is smile and answer the questions our M.C. poses. He’ll keep things light and fun. You’ll line up in numerical order and wait for your cue. Things will get started promptly at seven o’clock. Since your number twenty-five you have plenty of time. Relax, enjoy the s
nacks and beverages until you’re called.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The other women huddled around in small groups conversing. Scanning them, she headed toward the women who appeared to be about her age and had kind faces. The brunette with chic cat eyeglasses turned toward.

  “Hi,” Rosaleen said.

  “Hi. You look familiar.”

  “She’s the bakery lady,” the blonde beside her exclaimed.

  “Yes! I saw your interview.” The brunette snapped fingers, then held out her hand. “I’m Rachel.”

  “Hi, Rachel, I’m Rosaleen.”

  The blonde held out her hand. “Kristy.”

  “And I’m Shannon.” The other brunette with a fringe of bangs shook her hand last and gave her a kind smile that reached her blue eyes.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, ladies. Have any of you ever done this before?” Rosaleen asked.

  They laughed. “Yes. Many a romance has come out as a result of the fall auction,” Rachel replied.

  “Don’t be nervous. It’s all in good fun,” Kristy said, patting her hand.

  She exhaled. “I have to admit I was blindsided when Jennifer asked me. I couldn’t say no with all eyes on me.”

  “She’s fabulous at ensuring we have a good turn out every year,” Shannon added.

  “With her at the helm, I bet you do,” Rosaleen said, shaking her head as she smiled wryly.

  “Have a drink. It’ll help relax you.” Kristy walked over to a tray and grabbed a flute of champagne.

  “Thank you.” Accepting the bubbly liquid, she found herself swept into small talk. After so many days of nonstop hard work, and months of isolation, it felt good. Lightly grazing on carrots and finger sandwiches, she remained calm as the girls were called out onto the stage. Getting to know the others helped quell her nerves.

  “Number twenty-five, you’re up in five minutes,” a young redhead with a clipboard and headset informed her. Nodding her head, she took a deep breath and followed the headphone-wearing, khaki-clad young man with the clipboard to take her place on stage in the wings. Smoothing down her dress she listened as the M.C. worked the crowd.

  “We’ve already seen a number of lovely ladies, and the next is no exception. Let’s give a warm welcome to bakery owner and new Granville resident, Rosaleen Plath.”

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked onto the stage smiling at the crowd applauding.

  The black-haired man with a few strands of gray at the temples reminded her of Stephen Colbert. “This beautiful young woman owns For Cake’s Sake on Main Street. She’s a fan of horror movies, reading, and being outdoors. We’ll open the bid now.”

  “One hundred.” Her gaze latched onto the familiar light blue orbs of Alaric, and she felt her cheeks and neck heat up.

  “We got one hundred. Can I get one hundred and fifty?”

  “One hundred and fifty.”

  Shocked she turned to see a brunette male she didn’t know with a goatee and killer hazel eyes bidding. The bids volleyed back and forth in the crowd.

  “One thousand.” The voice filled her stomach with dread. He wouldn’t. She felt like she was moving underwater as she turned her head to the left and spotted Ryan. Dressed in a pair of crisp khaki pants paired with a crisp white button-up and a caramel pullover sweater, he stood heads above most at six foot two inches. His blond hair was parted at the side and slicked back, putting his high cheekbones on display. The full pink lips that used to make her shiver gained a scowl. Why was is he doing this?

  “Twelve hundred,” Alaric said.

  “Fifteen hundred,” Ryan countered.

  “Sixteen hundred.” Alaric’s voice was steely.

  Ryan turned to glare at him. “Eighteen hundred.”

  “Two thousand,” Alaric said coolly.

  “Ten thousand,” Ryan countered with a smirk.

  Alaric’s right eye twitched.

  “Going once, twice, sold to the gentleman with paddle number thirty.”

  The crowd murmured as she walked back the way she came numbly.

  “Great job,” Rachel congratulated her.

  “Yeah.” She gave a smile.

  “What’s wrong?” Rachel whispered.

  “He’s my ex.”

  “Oh, shit,” Kristy’s eye widened.

  “You can always decide not to go through with this,” Rachel assured her.

  Rosaleen balked at the thought. “No. The money he offered would really benefit the foundation.” Leave it to him to place her in a position she couldn’t get out of.

  “Just remember, it’s only one date,” Rachel suggested.

  “One too many,” she muttered. She shook her head.

  “Are you ready to get things settled?” Ms. Smith appeared.

  “Yes. What do I need to do?” Rosaleen asked, ignoring the tightness in her chest.

  “We like to be the ones to help mediate the dates. It makes things easier.”

  “Of course,” she said, relieved. He couldn’t plan some over the top event with a witness.

  “We’ll be bringing your winner in to meet you.”

  I actually know the bastard.

  Following her to an office, she did her best to hide her irritation as he came into view.

  “Rosaleen,” Ryan smiled slyly, clearly proud of himself.

  “You know him?” Ms. Smith asked, glancing from one to the other.

  “I used to date him,” she replied dryly.

  “Are you okay with this arrangement?” The apprehension on Ms. Smith’s round face made her feel bad.

  “It’ll be fine, Ms. Smith.”

  Ryan delivered his I’m a nice guy smile.

  “Well ... If you’re sure.”

  “We’ll do a coffee date,” Rosaleen stated, taking control of the situation.

  Ryan shook his head. “Dinner.”

  “Lunch. Take it or leave it.”

  “At least an hour-long lunch,” he countered.

  “Fine,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “I get to pick the place.”

  “When?” he asked.

  “Sunday. I want to get this over with.”

  He relented. “Fine.”

  “Tomorrow at two o’clock at Alfie’s on Broadway.”

  “What I have to say isn’t conducive to some casual dining eatery, Ros.” Ryan sighed.

  “Sounds like a you problem. I’ve shared everything I wanted to. I can’t believe you did this.”

  “It’s the only way I could get you to sit still and listen to me.”

  “Or you could take the hint.”

  “I think there’s still something worth salvaging.”

  “You’d be wrong.”

  “We’ll see.” He raked his gaze over her. “Red is certainly your color.”

  “Bye, Ryan.”

  “’Til tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

  And today started off so well.

  ALARIC

  Face on fire, he stared at the smug blond exiting the building. Who the hell is this guy? No one paid ten thousand dollars for a girl they barely knew. He scanned the room, looking for signs of Rosaleen. The expression on her face sent up red flags. Weaving his way through the crowd, he wrapped an around her waist and guided her out into the hallway. “What happened?”

  “That was my ex, Ryan.”

  “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “He showed up at the grand opening. I thought he left.”

  “Wait. He was here, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “It wasn’t important. He showed up, but I sent him away and let him know I wasn’t interested.”

  “Apparently he didn’t get the message.”

  “I see that now,” she said, shaking her head.

  He scowled. “No man who isn’t incredibly invested spends ten thousand dollars on a date with a woman. He’s not going to disappear.”

  “I can’t control what he does, Alaric.” The sound of his given name on her tongue made him wince.


  “I don’t like being blindsided.”

  She tilted her head. “And you think I did?”

  “No. I’m not saying that.” He shook his head.

  “Bachelor number forty-two. You’re up next.” A blond man with the clipboard and headphone appeared at his elbow.

  “We’re not done talking about this.”

  “No. We aren’t.” She folded her arms in front of her chest.

  Following the organizer to the back, he wondered if she would even bid. Ryan needed to go. He’d been on the scene for less than a week, and things between them had gone from damn near perfect to rocky. Smoothing out the frown lines in his head, he put on a pleasant expression, and as he stepped out onto the stage, he felt his heart race.

  “Alaric Bulley is the proud owner of the local business Just The Saw. This handsome eligible bachelor enjoys fishing, travel, and working with his hands. We’re opening the bidding now.”

  “One hundred dollars.” Kasey’s voice rang out like nails on a chalkboard.

  “One hundred and twenty-five,” a less familiar voice of a blonde with blue eyes said.

  Sweat beaded on his brow. Is she truly that pissed?

  “Five hundred.” Relief flooded him as Rosaleen lifted her paddle.

  Silence filled the space. “Five hundred going once, going twice. Sold to the woman in the red dress with paddle number thirteen.”

  She winked, and his lips twitched upwards into a smile. It wasn’t if your boat was rocked that counted, but how you handled the sudden storms that appeared.

  Retracing his steps, he waited in the office for Rosaleen to appear.

  “I assume the two of you know each other?” Ms. Smith asked with a smile.

  “Yes, we’re actually really good friends,” Alaric assured her.

  “We had a promise to bid on one another,” Rosaleen supplied.

  “That’s sweet of you both. I’m going to assume you can make date arrangements without me then?” Ms. Smith tilted her head.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Alaric smiled.

  “You owe me surf and turf and an expensive bottle of white wine,” Rosaleen said.

  “I’ll even pitch in dessert,” he agreed.

  “We seem to keep getting off on the wrong foot today.”

  “I think our past is haunting us,” Alaric admitted softly.