The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls)

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The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls) Page 14

by Sheila Roberts


  If the guests reacted half as positively she’d be happy. “Afraid so,” she said.

  “I don’t know if I can wait.”

  “I might be able to find a small piece for a food tester,” she said.

  “You want me to help you get the groceries?” he asked as he gave her a check.

  “No, I can handle it. Anyway, you’re busy watching a movie.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘busy.’”

  “It’s okay. I can handle it,” she repeated.

  “Yeah, you can,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Courage?” she joked.

  “You’ve already got that. You just need to tap into it.”

  She sure hoped he was right.

  She double-checked the number of guests and then sat down and did some calculations, figuring out how much food she’d need and how many ingredients she’d have to purchase. Her nerves made it hard to concentrate at first, and she wound up doing her math three times. Then she went into the office and had Eric go through the numbers.

  “That’s right,” he told her. “You know what you’re doing.”

  Yes, she did. Ooh, but what if something went wrong?

  That thought trailed her up and down the aisle at the grocery store, but she did her best to ignore it. You can do this, she kept telling herself. And once the shopping was done, once she was back in the kitchen at the lodge, whipping up her choux pastry, she almost began to believe herself. She was back on familiar ground, doing work she loved, so she tried not to spoil it with negative thoughts.

  Still, she couldn’t help praying, Pleeease, don’t let anyone get sick tomorrow. Although as nervous as she was, there was a good chance someone would. Her!

  * * *

  Twenty minutes after he’d called, Todd was leaning in Cecily’s doorway, holding a take-out pizza from Italian Alps and a pack of wine coolers, smiling at her with that wolfish grin of his, making her pulse jump. He also had a DVD.

  “I don’t want you saying I only came over here to grope you,” he said as he sauntered past her.

  “Oh? So, no groping tonight?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He set the pizza on the coffee table and made himself at home on the couch. “Hungry?”

  Not with the way her sister was feeding her these days, but she had a weakness for pizza, and with the box open, the aroma was wafting over and tickling her nose. “I’ll get plates,” she said. “What’s the movie?”

  He held it up and she blinked. It was the latest remake of Pride and Prejudice.

  “Hey, don’t look so shocked. I told you, I’m not a total Philistine.”

  Now she was suspicious. “You just got that to score points.”

  “Well, that, too,” he admitted. “I thought you’d like it.” He walked over to her DVR and put in the movie. “Come on, beautiful. Hurry up and get those plates. Mr. Darby is waiting.”

  “That’s ‘Darcy,’” she said as she pulled plates from the cupboard.

  “Whatever.”

  Cecily sneaked a peek in Todd’s direction a couple of times during the movie and was surprised to find him actually paying attention. “I can’t believe you watched the whole thing,” she said as the ending credits began to roll.

  He grabbed her remote and switched off the movie. “Things don’t always have to be blowing up to get my attention.”

  He started playing with her hair, and that got her attention. “It was sweet of you to pick that movie,” she said softly.

  “That’s me,” he said. “Mr. Sweet.”

  She frowned at him. “Can’t you ever be serious?”

  “Well, yes. In fact, I’m about to show you how serious I can be.” He put an arm around her and drew her close. “I’m serious when I say you’re an irresistible woman,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear.

  Now she was craving the feel of his lips on hers. She turned her face to him and closed her eyes and Todd took it from there. And, boy, did he know how to take it.

  But part of her—darn that sensible self!—wasn’t ready to succumb completely to his charms. “Look at the time,” she finally said. “You should be going.”

  He gave her a mock frown. “Can’t you ever be serious?” Before she could say anything, he held up a hand. “I know. I know. You are. I should probably pop in at the old cave and see how things are going anyway.” He paused. “But are you sure you don’t want to watch another movie?” he added and waggled his eyebrows.

  She knew what that was code for. She shook her head. “My sister will be home soon.”

  “And you don’t want her to find out you’ve got a man up here?” he teased.

  “Something like that,” she said lightly.

  In reality, she didn’t want to examine her motives for not letting Bailey meet Todd. At least she didn’t want to examine them too closely. She suspected that, deep down, she wasn’t all that secure about her new relationship with him. Much as she loved her sister, she didn’t want to share. There was something about Bailey. Her freckles? Her fresh-faced happiness? Her curves? Whatever it was, Bailey, like Mom, never had trouble attracting men. Cecily might have been considered the family beauty, but if you asked her, Bailey was the true man magnet.

  She gave Todd one last kiss and then shooed him out the door. He’d been gone only ten minutes before Bailey rolled back in, all bright eyes and enthusiasm. “Breakfast is going to be fantastic,” she predicted. “I’m sorry I ditched you, though.” Then she caught sight of the pizza box with a few slices remaining and threw her sister a knowing look. “You had company.”

  “I did,” Cecily admitted and hoped Bailey didn’t ask who that company had been. She probably assumed it was Luke, since Cecily hadn’t mentioned that she’d put the brakes on that relationship.

  Bailey hugged her. “I’m glad. It’s about time you found someone nice.”

  Cecily wasn’t sure nice was the right word to use in describing Todd Black. But there were other words that worked just as well—like sexy and exciting and addictive. “I have.”

  * * *

  Todd swung by his place and took a nice, cold shower before going to check in on the Neanderthals hanging out at The Man Cave. Cecily was making him crazy. He was more than ready to go beyond what she’d so lovingly referred to as a “grope fest.” Groping was all well and good, but it only got the party started, and staying stuck at that sexual level hardly made for a satisfying relationship.

  Something was holding her back and it wasn’t his technique. She reminded him of a little kid perched at the edge of a pool with her dad in the water urging her to jump. But she couldn’t.

  It was as if there were parts of herself she kept curtained off. She’d wanted to know all about his past love life, but she hadn’t shared much of hers. Had somebody hurt her?

  Hard to imagine anyone hurting Cecily Sterling. Who’d want to? She was too nice. So, how had she gone this long without getting engaged? Too picky?

  He remembered when he’d met her. She’d been with her sister Samantha, and they’d had a flat tire and pulled into The Man Cave’s parking lot. He could still see the look of disdain on her face as she’d taken in his tavern for the first time. She’d hidden it quickly enough, but he’d seen. Maybe she was too picky.

  But if that was the case, what was she doing with him now?

  Dumb question. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He could feel the electricity in the air whenever they got together. At some point she was going to let him give her all two hundred and twenty volts. He just had to find a way to reassure her that he wasn’t out to hurt her and that she wouldn’t get burned.

  His bartender, Pete, was holding down the fort and didn’t really need him, but he went behind the bar to help out anyway. He liked being here, liked the guys
who came in and liked being on top of what was going on in his business. Henry was seated at his regular spot at the bar, Pete keeping him company, wiping up a spill with his bar rag. “What are you doing back here?” he greeted Todd. “Mike said you had a hot date.”

  “I did.”

  “Must’ve cooled off,” Henry observed. “What happened? Did the lady lose interest?”

  No, she just lost her nerve. “Anybody ever tell you you’re a nosy old codger?” Todd said with a frown.

  “These younger guys think they’re so hot,” he said to the old geezer next to him, “but they’re not built as well as us.”

  The other guy chuckled. “Got that right. All flash and no substance.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Todd said with a grin. “If I need help, I’ll be sure to come to you two.”

  “Vitamins,” Henry insisted. “And nuts,” he added, scooping up some cocktail nuts from the bowl in front of him. “Protein keeps the old muscle working.”

  “You got any muscle at all, Henry?” teased one of the younger men, who’d left the pool table in search of another beer. “Bet it’s been a long time since you used it.”

  That had all the men guffawing and Henry sputtering about his virility.

  “So, how’s it going with Cecily?” Pete asked as the other men joked with each other.

  “Good,” Todd said. Even though they were moving more slowly than he would’ve liked, they were still headed in the right direction. Now, if he could just get Cecily to quit putting on the brakes so they could get there...

  * * *

  At the Icicle Creek Lodge, customers made reservations for when they’d like breakfast—anytime between the hours of seven-thirty and ten in the morning. The lodge was full and most people wanted to eat between eight and nine.

  Bailey was ready for them, though. Her Danish puff (which Eric had sampled and heartily approved) had been sliced and arranged on plates, one for each table. In addition to the pastry, she’d also made the salad the night before and grated the cheese for her muffin-tin omelets. Breakfast went out to everyone right on time, and later Misty, the teenage server, returned with more than dirty plates. She had a pile of compliments for the chef.

  Bailey felt as if she’d been holding her breath all morning. Now her breathing began to return to normal, and the muscles that had been huddled tightly together in her neck and shoulders relaxed. She’d done it. She’d served up a meal and nobody had gotten sick. Or pretended to. So far.

  “Um, everyone’s okay out there?”

  “Oh, yeah. They haven’t left even a crumb. I sure would like to try one of those pastries,” Misty said, as she looked longingly at the one remaining plate.

  “You will,” Bailey promised her. “That plate is for the staff.”

  Misty’s eyes lit up. “Sweet! I can hardly wait.”

  Bailey smiled. This was why she loved to cook. Eating made people happy. She gazed around the kitchen at the big stove, the griddle, the huge double sink, the Hobart dishwasher, the walk-in cooler. A framed piece of cross-stitch art that read Bless This Kitchen hung on one wall over the stainless-steel storage counters—a gift from Bailey’s mom to Olivia years ago. The kitchen had, indeed, been blessed, serving countless guests good food for the past twenty years and giving any number of young cooks their start, including Bailey.

  This was where she belonged. Cecily had been right. It would have been stupid to let one bad experience keep her away from this forever. She inhaled deeply. The kitchen smelled of bacon. Tomorrow the menu would change, and it would have a different aroma—maybe cinnamon from Olivia’s famous cinnamon rolls or vanilla and brown sugar. Whatever was on the menu, she wanted to be part of it.

  Misty had barely left the kitchen when Eric put in an appearance. “Looks like breakfast was a success.”

  “I think so,” Bailey said with a grin.

  “I knew you could do it.”

  “I’m glad you knew. I wasn’t so sure.”

  “Sometimes you have to prove it to yourself.”

  “I guess you’ve been there, done that?”

  Unlike his charming younger brother, Eric didn’t talk much. He certainly didn’t talk much about himself. But today he seemed inclined to. “Yeah, I remember my first big lesson when I was doing track in high school. I wiped out on the hurdles, got a ton of dirt embedded in my leg.” He shook his head. “Man, getting that cleaned out hurt like the devil. And I felt like a loser. In fact, I wanted to quit.”

  Bailey nodded. She could identify with that big-time.

  “My coach wouldn’t let me. He said the only real losers are the ones who go down and never get up again.” He smiled at Bailey. “Good for you for getting up.”

  She smiled back. “Thanks. Can I adopt you as my older brother?”

  “Sure. Sisters bake cookies for their brothers, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Welcome to the family, sis. Oh, and by the way, my brother’s an idiot.”

  Considering the woman he’d decided to fall in love with, she couldn’t have agreed more.

  “I should get to work. Mom’s got a to-do list for me a mile long,” he said as he started to head out.

  “Eric.”

  He turned, an eyebrow raised in question.

  “Thanks for the encouragement.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’ve got an ulterior motive. I love cookies.”

  He sauntered off, leaving her with a smile on her face. Maybe, if Bailey told Olivia she’d changed her mind, Olivia would let her help with the breakfasts every weekend.

  She was taking off her apron when Olivia strolled in, looking hale and hearty in jeans and a pink sweatshirt.

  “What are you doing here?” Bailey asked in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  “I’m feeling so much better. Just thought I’d come in and see how you’re doing. How did it go?”

  “Great,” Bailey crowed.

  “I’m glad. You know, I had three guests stop me to rave about breakfast.”

  Rave reviews. Bailey’s lips stretched wider. “I’m so glad.”

  “Can you do tomorrow’s breakfast, too?” Olivia asked.

  “But you’re okay now,” Bailey protested.

  “Oh, I’m still too weak to stand up in the kitchen. I realize it’s a lot to ask. You’d have to miss church.”

  “I can go to the evening service,” Bailey said quickly. Already her mind was racing with what she could make—waffles with bacon bits in them, served with maple whipped cream. Or maybe oatmeal muffins and quiche.

  “That would be lovely,” Olivia said. “Thank you, dear.”

  “My pleasure,” Bailey said, and she meant it.

  The next morning she got more raves on her waffles, which she’d served with another fruit salad, this one with a yogurt-lime dressing.

  “That was wonderful,” Olivia said, coming into the kitchen.

  Today she looked as hale and hearty as she had the day before. Once more Bailey wondered if Olivia had even been sick. She didn’t ask, but she did say, “You look like you’re all recovered.”

  “I am,” Olivia said. “There’s nothing like having a couple of days off to make you feel like a new woman.” She leaned on the counter and took a sip from the coffee mug she was carrying. “You should be doing this full-time, honey. You know that, don’t you?”

  Bailey focused on wiping down the counter. “I do love to be in the kitchen. I thought maybe you’d let me help out with breakfast once in a while.”

  “That’s what I offered when you first came in,” Olivia reminded her. “And, of course, the offer still stands, but I’d love to see you strike out on your own.”

  “I don’t think there’s much demand for caterers here in Icicle Falls,” Bailey said. It wasn’
t like L.A., where everyone was either too busy or too important to cook. Anyway, she didn’t want to cater. She was done with catering.

  “You might consider it anyway. Why not come with me to the chamber-of-commerce meeting this week?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Bailey said. Helping Olivia in her kitchen was one thing. Going to the chamber-of-commerce meeting and mingling with all the successful businesspeople in town was quite another.

  “You might get some ideas.”

  Ideas would be good. She still needed to make that list of options her mother had talked about in her book.

  “You can come as my guest,” Olivia said.

  “But who’ll watch the front desk?”

  “Eric can do it. We won’t be gone that long anyway.” Olivia checked her watch. “Speaking of guests, we’ll have some of them checking out soon. Why don’t you go to the front desk, and I’ll finish cleaning up in here.”

  Well, that settled it. It looked as though Bailey was going to the chamber-of-commerce meeting whether she wanted to or not.

  Chapter Twelve

  The banquet room at Pancake Haus was packed with the town’s movers and shakers. Ed York, who owned D’vine Wines, stood visiting with several people, including Sammy and Cecily’s friend Charlene Masters. Also in the circle stood longtime family friend Pat Wilder. From the way Ed looked at her when she talked, it was easy to tell he was smitten. And the way she looked back—well, she was smitten, too. All the bed-and-breakfast and motel owners were present, as well as most of the shop owners. Del Stone, the town’s mayor, was just finding a seat at the center of the large table next to Dot Morrison, who owned Pancake Haus, and on her other side sat Bubba Swank, who owned The Big Brats, the town’s favorite spot for sausages and great German potato salad.

  Various people were still filing in. Here came skinny Hildy Johnson, followed by Tina Swift, who sent Bailey an uncomfortable smile and then scooted past her. Samantha entered the room after her, a picture of business casual in dark jeans, a crisp, white blouse and a red leather jacket, her long, brown hair falling loose to her shoulders.

  She blinked at the sight of Bailey and hurried over to give her a hug. “This is a surprise.” As in, what are you doing here?

 

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