Lily

by Chris Keniston

  “I’ll follow you back.” Lily spun about. “I left Cole alone. For all I know, he’s gotten up and is halfway here.”

  Sort of as expected, Lily found Cole off the sofa and on his scooter, but instead of on his way out the door, he was working his way back to the couch from the window. “I’m guessing since you guys are strolling home and I don’t hear sirens, you were able to put it out?”

  “Nothing to put out.” Gabe returned the extinguisher to its place in the pantry. “Lucy started a fire but closed the flue.”

  “I see.”

  “She is right, there’s a crisp bite in the air,” Derrick offered.

  “Uh huh.” Lily turned off the burner under the pot. “Do you really have to leave or shall I dole out some chili?”

  “Thanks,” Payton smiled, “but we really do need to go. There should be enough there to last you a few days, even with the card playing crowd.” He turned to face his friend. “I left your shirts and shoes in the closet with the rest of your gear.”

  “You sure you don’t want to eat first?” Cole asked.

  “Yeah, man. Behave yourself. We’re on duty tomorrow, but will check in on you.”

  Cole nodded, and after a few more seconds of elbowing and teasing, the cabin was quiet as a church at midnight.

  “Hungry?” Lucy asked.

  “A little.” Cole paused on his scooter at the coffee table. “Lucy might have had at least one good idea. It’s a nice evening for a fire. Shall I start one?”

  “No.” Lily abandoned the warm pot of chili and met Cole in the living room. “You get off your foot. I’ll go ahead and start it.”

  “Everything is all laid out and ready to go. I can do it.”

  “Yes, you can. But so can I.” She inched in closer and reached forward, letting her fingers land gently on his arm. Words caught in her throat for an instant. “Please. I’d feel better if you let me do this.”

  His gaze bore into hers. For a split second she would have sworn he could read every thought and emotion swirling around inside her. Without moving an inch, he nodded, his eyes almost daring her to take the first step toward or away from him.

  It took her longer than it should have. A magnetic force seemed to ooze from his every pore and pull her in. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt so drawn to another human being before. There was no understanding it. All she knew for sure was that stepping back was her only option. “I’ll get the fire started.”

  With a short nod, he took a wobbly step in retreat and she almost whimpered with regret. Once she gathered her wits about her, starting the fire came easily. Kindling and wood neatly stacked in cross rows allowing for air, she crumpled some paper to spread underneath and struck a match.

  Flames burst upward so quickly, Lily sprang back. The sound of crackling wood mingled with the scent of pine needles George the handyman had most likely set underneath to ease starting. “Is there anything better on a chilly night than a warm fire?” she asked.

  “It’s definitely in the top five.” Cole sank onto the sofa, his leg propped up nice and high.

  And just like that the air in the room was completely back to normal. So why did her gut tell her on a scale of one to ten, normal just flew off the charts?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Down boy, Cole silently lectured himself. He’d come within a millimeter of kissing Lily. Common sense told him with the accident and mishaps, the situation was already more than complicated. He didn’t need to add fraternizing to the mix.

  Only his third day into recovery and Cole had pretty much all of sitting still he wanted. Even with this morning’s outing to the storefront location, he was still antsy. Instead of lounging on the sofa like a Roman emperor, he’d rather be in the kitchen with Lily, helping her with the dishes, scooping out the chili, carrying it back here. “I’ve been thinking about the shop.”

  “You have?” An old shaker-style tray in her hands, Lily came his way with a huge smile across her face.

  Scooting forward on the sofa, he let his injured foot slide to the floor and accepted the tray. “Thanks. And yes.” The chili smelled fantastic, but it was the flaky roll to one side he noticed. “Did you bake these?”

  “I did.” Anytime anything to do with baking came up, Lily’s expression always brightened.

  “When did you have time?”

  “There isn’t much to ordinary buttermilk biscuits. I threw them together when we got home. Just tossed them into the oven not long ago so be careful, they’re pretty hot.”

  She said that so matter-of-factly, as if everyone mixed up biscuits from scratch while doing a hundred other things. To most people biscuits in a can were as close to homemade as they would ever get.

  The calories and carbs might kill him, but if he’d learned anything the last few days, he’d come to see life was too short not to enjoy every savory bite. The thought almost made him laugh. Only three days ago he would have balked at the amount of butter alone he’d consume with a single biscuit, never mind savor the prospect of one of Lily’s home baked goods. “For what it’s worth, I think the location on Main is perfect.”

  “You do?” Lifting the spoon, she flinched, a tiny wince escaping her lips.

  “Are you okay?” He straightened in his seat, carefully watching her body language.

  “Nothing. A little baker’s stiffness. The downside of always leaning over to work on top of last night’s paperwork marathon.” Elbow bent, her fingers dug into the base of her neck. “I’m so used to it that I didn’t even realize it until you pointed it out.”

  “Used to it?” He supposed his body was used to the occasional abuse his career choice put him through, but when his muscles protested, he noticed.

  “I’ll toss a bean bag into the microwave later. That and a couple of ibuprofen will help.”

  “That’s not good for your liver. Come here.”

  “Excuse me?” Bright green eyes popped open wide.

  “I could come over there,” he scooted forward, “but you don’t like it when I stand up.”

  “That’s because nothing about standing follows the rules.”

  “And you always follow the rules?”

  A slow grin teased one side of her face. “Maybe not.”

  “Then come here. I promise I won’t bite.”

  Those sparkling green eyes widened again.

  Some days he wished he was fluent in reading women’s minds. Not bothering to say another word, he grabbed a cushion and tossed it on the floor in front of him, then gestured for her to sit.

  Slowly rising from the chair, Lily looked as though she’d been asked to walk the plank. Taking cautious steps across the small space, she turned her back to him, then eased onto the cushion and leaned against the sofa.

  With his good hand resting lightly on her shoulder, he pressed carefully with his thumb, searching for the out of place tightness.

  “Oh, that does feel good.”

  “I’m glad.” Very glad. Gliding and pressing, going from one shoulder to the other and back, he kneaded the kinks in her neck much the way she might do with a mound of dough. Her left side definitely held more tension than her right. One strong push of the pad of his thumb and he felt the hard knot at the same moment he heard Lily’s sharp intake of breath. “I’d say I found the spot”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Now he wished he’d thought to ask her to grab a bottle of lotion. His gaze fell on a small vial of essential oils Violet had left him. He’d already forgotten what it was, but it couldn’t hurt. Lily’s neck fell forward and pausing briefly, he reached for the little bottle. “Loosen a couple of buttons on your shirt, please.”

  Her head tipped to one side, allowing her a brief sideways glance in his direction.

  “So I can get some oil on your neck and rub a little deeper,” he explained.

  Letting her chin fall back against her chest, she undid one button and he thought might have mumbled something like, too bad.

  “Are you going to take Mrs.
O’Malley up on her offer?” Distraction was key right now. He needed to get his mind on something besides Lily’s soft skin under his fingertips.

  “I am so very tempted,” she mumbled.

  She wasn’t the only one. “The building is in solid shape. It wouldn’t take much work to implement some of those sketches you showed me.”

  “Maybe not much work, but plenty of money.”

  “I may be able to help with that.”

  “Oh.” Her head tilted sideways again.

  “I’m guessing I know a few guys who might be willing to trade a little hard labor for a year’s supply of baked goods.” He chuckled. “You may know one of them. I believe you were briefly engaged.”

  “A year huh?” She smiled and her head fell forward again.

  “Yes. From…what will the name be?”

  “What name?”

  “Of the bakery. Your bakery.”

  “The Pastry Stop.” Somehow she seemed to relax even more with the words. “It’s kind of simple. I’d thought about something with Patisserie but decided that might be a little too pretentious for Lawford.”

  “I like it. It’s perfect. I’d want to stop.”

  This time she twisted at the waist. “Would you?”

  “Of course.’

  “No, really. Would you drive out of your way for a croissant? A Danish? A cake?”

  “Well, I haven’t had your Danish or cake but I’ve had enough of your baking to truthfully answer yes.”

  “And that’s the rub. I can’t bring in every resident on Lawford Mountain in order for them to taste my baking and know it’s worth the drive.”

  “Well—”

  “I need one item. One thing that stands out in a crowd. That will make folks talk about me and drive from across the lake to shop with me instead of their own town bakery.”

  “That shouldn’t be so hard. I’ve tasted your baking and your cooking. You’re not bad.” A grin split his face. Even though she couldn’t see him, he hoped his teasing tone came through loud and clear.

  “Gee thanks.” Under his fingers, her shoulder rose and fell with a stifled chuckle.

  “You’re welcome.” The knot in her neck was loosening to the point that he probably didn’t need to keep rubbing at it, but he liked working on her shoulders. Knowing he was helping. Making a difference in her life. Admittedly a very small difference, especially one handed, but he liked it nonetheless. Who was he kidding? He liked being anywhere near Lily. Hell, he even liked being in the middle of nature with sketchy cell reception, no decent TV or internet—and with her. And wasn’t that a riot. Her spitzenbuben cookies weren’t the only addictive thing around here. Three days ago he could hardly wait to go home and now, well, now he wondered how long could he safely milk a sprained ankle.

  ***

  If anyone doubted there was a heaven, all they would need is five minutes with Cole’s hands working away the stress of the day and they would become a true believer. Lily had no idea how long she’d been under his touch, but she did not want to move. Ever.

  “You never mentioned.” She tried not to purr as his fingers shifted to rub along the edge of her spine. “Did you always want to be a firefighter?”

  “No.” He pressed lightly at a tight spot. “I was going to conquer the monetary world in my original plans. I have a degree in economics.”

  “Really?” She leaned a bit to one side in order to get a look at his face. He seemed perfectly serious.

  “Really.” He motioned for her to sit back. “I lasted one year behind a desk and knew I had to find something else.”

  “But firefighting?” She turned around, greedily hoping he wouldn’t stop his ministrations. “Not the first thing that comes to mind with a degree in economics.”

  “That’s what my grandfather said.”

  “You have one of those too? The kind who always has the answers?”

  “Yes, and he’s a lot like yours, but Navy not Marine. He’s a ring knocker too.”

  Immediately she recognized the nickname given to military academy graduates. “Does he live near here?”

  “Nope. My dad’s the one who comes from generations of northeasterners. Mom met my dad in college and since she didn’t really have a hometown, I grew up near Dad’s family. My grandmother never cared for winter, so when my granddad retired they settled in Florida. They’re happy as clams.”

  “How did you wind up a fireman?” Back in full massage mode, her head lolled from side to side.

  “I came within inches of taking another office job. Instead of a cubicle this one at least came with a window. Before I’d fully made up my mind, a few of us had gone on a weekend fishing trip. We were caravanning in three cars. Halfway to our favorite fishing hole, we saw smoke and realized a house up the road was on fire. We’d left late so it was pitch black out. One by one we pulled over in front of the house. Everyone ran in different directions. At first banging on the door to wake the family up and make sure everyone was out, then grabbing hoses to do what we could until help arrived. We were in volunteer fire department country and knew help wasn’t around the corner. By the time the fire truck arrived, I was hooked. The adrenaline high of saving a family of five and their dog was like nothing I’d ever felt before.”

  “I can’t even imagine.” The only thing she’d ever saved from burning was a batch of cookies.

  “What about you?”

  “Me?” She turned for a better view of him and leaned against the sofa as his hands slid away. “What about me?”

  “I’m guessing you’ve been planning for this bakery for a long time.”

  She nodded. Long time was an understatement. She’d been in charge of her own kitchen since that first Easy Bake Oven. In the beginning, staying in Paris had an irresistible charm. The cafes, the lights, the river Seine, and the buzz of places like the famed Latin Quarter and Montmartre were amazing for a small town girl. Briefly she gave New York City a chance. In the end, it hadn’t taken long for her to realize the only charm she wanted—or needed—was right here at home. “I’ve been saving for years.”

  “And you have to have the bakery right on Main Street?”

  “That’s the dream.”

  “How many locations have come available since you started saving? I would think in such a small town there would be at least some turnover.”

  “Nope. None.” Pulling her legs tightly against her, she rested her chin on her knees.

  “So what you’re saying,” his brows crinkled above a pensive gaze, “is this is a one time shot?”

  Was that what she was saying? Was it now or never? At least never on Main Street. And just how important was having a bakery on the prime shopping road in town? The road that linked a dozen more small towns just like Lawford. The one tourists drove through while hunting for the perfect summertime play spot, exploring foliage in the fall, or en route to ski down a snow-covered mountainside. “Have you ever wanted something so badly you can almost taste it?”

  “Hasn’t everyone?”

  “Once I moved back to Lawford, to save money I moved in with Mom. I’ve studied under some of the best pastry chefs in the world. I practice new recipes on my family whether they like it or not—”

  “I’m sure they love it,” he interrupted.

  Yeah, they probably did. At least Lucy complained enough about her waistline. “But can I do it? Really do it? No one else to fall back on. Just me and my pastries. Deep down,” she heaved a sigh, “I don’t know.”

  Her own words surprised her. She’d never admitted that to herself before, saying it to a near stranger was almost as startling as hearing her fears voiced out loud. Cole slid off the sofa and sank onto the floor beside her. His good leg tucked against him, aligning with hers, their knees bumped and her breath caught.

  “Every time I rush into a burning building, for a flicker of a moment,” he pinched his thumb and index finger in front of her then let his hand fall to his side, “my mind acknowledges this could be the last ti
me. This could be the time the fire wins. The time I don’t come out alive.”

  Even though they barely knew each other, her chest actually ached at the thought of losing him.

  “But another part of me, the smarter, stronger part, recognizes that I could be someone’s only hope of survival. And not because I’m a fireman, but because I’m a good fireman. I love what I do and that shows every time I turn out for work.”

  She let her chin tip up and back. “I bet you’re damn good at it too.”

  “So are you.” A slow lazy smile slid across his face. “I’m not sure you realize just how good.”

  “I suppose good enough for a marriage proposal.” Even if his buddy had made it in pure fun.

  Dark as steel, eyes reflecting the fire’s heat leveled with hers. A pop from the fireplace sounded and neither bothered to look. She couldn’t have dragged her eyes away from him for her own sainted mother. His head tipped to one side and she knew in that instant he was going to kiss her. And she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

  Lips soft and strong barely brushed against hers. The fingers that had kneaded away the tension of the last few days threaded with hers. Her eyes drifted closed and her breath caught in her throat. If the world stopped now, she wouldn’t complain. But the world didn’t stop. Only his kiss. As slowly as he’d eased against her, he pulled away.

  Hesitating only inches from her face, he blinked. “Should I apologize for that?”

  Most of the air in her lungs stuck in her throat, all she could do was slowly shake her head.

  A tiny smile pulled at the edge of his lips. The lips that had just given her the sweetest, gentlest kiss she’d ever had in her entire life. “Any chance you want to do it again?”

  She hadn’t a clue if kissing him again was a good or bad idea, but at this moment, she was pretty sure she didn’t care.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The distant humming of an alarm broke through the haze of sleep. Not a hum, a buzz. Actually, a phone. Her phone. Lily flung her arm out to grab her cell from the night table, stretching to reach over her pillow.