Dessert.
She snatched a lemon cupcake from the last tray, closed the fridge behind her, and chased Blake to his truck. His diesel roared and then settled into a purr as he shifted into drive.
“Wait!”
He looked her way, then rolled down his window and moved the gear shift into park.
She gripped his outstretched hand and stepped onto the running board, hooking her elbow inside to keep her balance. Cold air blasted from the vents and blew his earthy cologne her direction.
Blake stared at their linked hands, making no effort to let go. “What’s up?”
Your brooding is killing me with its attractiveness. She produced the cupcake. “To cheer you up.”
One corner of his mouth lifted.
“What can I do to help you?”
His serious gaze settled on her lips with an intensity that stole her breath. She’d almost talked herself into giving in when he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers.
“This right here.” Blake sighed. “I apologize for running out on you at the party. And for not calling. I just wasn’t expecting…Lucas.”
She gathered her courage to ask the question that had been nagging her for days. “Do you…still have feelings for her?” Her heart thrashed in her chest while she awaited his answer.
“No.” Blake released the wheel and ran the calloused pad of his thumb along the dip above her chin. It grazed her lower lip, shooting lightning into her limbs. His morose gaze turned fierce. Intense.
Her insides warmed and desire rose in her chest like yeast in a ball of dough. “Good to know.” From this point on, she could no longer deny she’d given this man a piece of her heart.
His fingers left her face and tangled into the hair at her nape. Oh, yeah. She was all in now. Whether she wanted to be or not.
On shaky legs, she lowered her feet to the pavement before either of them did anything too rash. Like make out right here in the parking lot. Because the heated way Blake was looking at her right now made that possibility all too real.
~*~
November 1963
I snapped a picture of this jade bowl while rummaging through an antique shop in Kennebunkport on break from capturing the regatta. It reminded me of you.
The dish is Japanese. Broken years ago, it was pieced back together with gold. In their culture, a flaw is viewed as a unique piece of the object’s history, which adds to its beauty.
Jacob has been gone three years now. You’re still broken. So am I. But I’m healing, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, it’s without you. Let my love, let God’s love, heal your broken pieces. You are still a beautiful, useable vessel. Let yourself be repaired.
29
Blake thought the sight of Olivia holding dessert with a frilly apron pinching her waist was mighty appealing, but watching her walk through the blueberry fields toward him in cutoffs and a long tank top with her hair knotted messily on top of her head…even better.
The last two restless nights had brought him to the conclusion he wanted something real with Olivia—a serious, let’s-declare-something-make-future-plans relationship. No backstabbing brother would steal any more of Blake’s thoughts when he could be focusing on winning Olivia.
He continued passing out blueberry rakes and wooden crates to the few who’d already arrived. His buddy, Abe, and Abe’s son Fausto liked to start at dawn so they could find a shady spot during the heat of the day and enjoy a siesta. They each worked harder and faster than three men combined, so Blake didn’t mind.
Livi sidled up beside him.
“We’re starting in field three. The plots are marked, as always. A wagon is already out there. I’ll be around with the tractor shortly.”
The men nodded and headed toward the fields.
Blake turned toward Olivia, grateful for a moment of privacy. “I didn’t expect to see you this early.”
She inhaled a breath so deep it lifted her shoulders. “Thanks to you and my new live-in help, I’ve gotten three glorious nights’ sleep in a row. I feel like a new woman.”
And that spark of contentment in her eyes was unbearably attractive. “I’m glad Jen’s working out for you.”
“She’s fantastic.”
He handed her a rake and a crate.
Olivia frowned. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I figured, city girl. I’ll stick close until you get the hang of it.” Or longer if she’d let him. Blake grabbed his Thermos from atop a barn beam. “Coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m already fueled up and ready to go.”
“I like your enthusiasm.” He liked everything about her, actually.
She opened her mouth but closed it when a truckload of migrant workers parked in front of them. Probably best anyway. Today would be busy enough, and he needed to concentrate. Though, he’d love to know what she was about to say.
Blake palmed the hollow between her shoulder blades and led her to the truck overflowing with men, women, and older children. “Welcome back, guys. Today, we’ll be in field three. Everything’s the same as last year. Rakes and crates are in the barn. See me at the end of the day, and we’ll settle up.”
Several of the men’s gazes, including some of the teenagers’, latched onto Olivia, raising the fine hairs on the back of Blake’s neck. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed her beauty being appreciated, but he didn’t have to like it. He introduced her to the workers he remembered. The workers he didn’t introduce did the job for him. Blake wanted to add that she was his, but he couldn’t because she wasn’t.
Alejandro, a decent guy who had the reputation of being the lady’s man of the group, stepped too close to Olivia—as in three feet away—and dipped his chin. “Olivia, es muy bonita.”
Yep, but she’s not interested in you pal. Blake barely kept the words from escaping. Who was he to decide for her?
Those fully awake cheeks of hers pinked right up. “Um, thank you.”
Someone slapped Alejandro’s back while spouting something in Spanish, and the group laughed in a good-natured razzing.
“See you guys out there.” Blake smiled, despite wanting to rearrange Alejandro’s face, and then put an arm around Olivia’s shoulders as they walked toward field three.
When they’d walked far enough away from the others, she elbowed his ribs. “Staking your claim?”
He halted. “I’ve worked with Alejandro for three years. He’s a good worker, great guy, but he can charm a fish out of the water. It’s best to discourage him up front.”
“And miss all the chest-banging? No way.”
He took her rake and crate to carry them for her. “I wasn’t chest-banging.”
“What do you call that then?” She grinned, eyebrows lifting. The morning sun washed her face in gold.
“Protecting. But if what Alejandro is offering appeals to you, I won’t stand in your way.” Blake continued walking. After about ten steps, she caught up to him.
“He’s very tempting, but for some reason I’ve grown a soft spot for flannel.” Olivia wrapped her hand around his bicep.
And he’d grown quite the sweet tooth.
~*~
Sweat dripped down the skin between Olivia’s eyes, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She’d been picking for only a few hours, but already her legs and lower back were screaming. The August sun beat down on the workers. She’d already guzzled one bottle of water and was preparing to fill it up again from the water cooler Blake provided by the wagon.
Extending her arms, Olivia combed the rake through the bushes, collecting as much of the plump fruit as she could. Then she transferred the berries into a wooden crate. Her stomach growled. Skipping breakfast hadn’t been the best idea. She popped a few berries into her mouth. The sweet juice burst on her tongue.
“I saw that.”
Olivia startled at the broad shadow looming over her and knocked over her empty water bottle. She swiveled and looked up at Blake’s smirking face.
&
nbsp; “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t let it happen again.” He winked. “Feel free to take a break whenever you need to.”
“Think this city girl can’t hack it?”
“I guess we’ll see.” He pulled a baseball cap from his back pocket. “I brought you this. It’s the cleanest one I could find. Your nose is getting a little pink.”
He touched the tip of his nose, and she mimicked his action. The skin was tender, despite the sunscreen she’d applied.
“It’s up to you if you wear it or not. Just thought I’d offer.” Blake handed her the blue hat.
Moved by his attentiveness, Olivia grabbed it by the bill and tapped the embroidered red C. “At least you have good taste in ball teams.” She yanked out the elastic band holding her hair, shook her fingers through the tresses, and secured it in a lower ponytail that would fit through the hole in the hat. “Thanks.”
He pointed to the ground. “Looks like you could use some water.”
She grabbed her bottle, took his offered hand, and stood.
They walked toward the cooler.
“What do you think of the job?” he asked.
“Honestly?” She removed her sunglasses to dab at the beads of sweat collecting on her upper cheeks. “I like baking with blueberries more than picking them.”
He laughed. “And I like eating what you make.”
“When are we going to start those cooking lessons? I think it’s about time you cook for me.” She twisted off the bottle cap, held the mouth under the cooler spout, and pressed the button. Blue liquid rushed into the plastic.
“I’d say tonight, but my mom has already taken my kitchen hostage. Why don’t you stay and eat dinner with us?”
Us? As in, with his parents? Why did that thought make her stomach twist? “Oh, um, I’ll need to check on Jen and Grandma first. See what they have planned.” Coward. For the first time in a long time, she had something she wanted to pursue. But she knew how easily one’s ideas could crumble. Eating dinner with Blake’s parents felt constraining at the moment. She left him by the cooler and returned to the field.
A few minutes later, Blake knelt beside her holding a rake of his own. He didn’t say a word, just combed the bushes alongside her.
His shoulders weren’t tense. No frown lines marred his mouth or forehead. As always, he was being patient. Waiting until she was ready. Which managed to make her feel like a jerk. It was only a meal for crying out loud. “I’ll call home during lunch. If Jen has dinner covered, I’ll stay and eat with you.”
Blake leaned closer to the bushes. “No pressure. Whatever you decide is fine.”
“No, I…” Need to stop holding myself back. Quit being afraid of everyone and everything that could happen and live again. “I’d like to. If the offer still stands.”
“Always.”
The deep timbre of his voice on that one simple word made her skin pebble.
Blake sat back on his haunches. “How about a wager? Whoever picks the most berries in the next five minutes gets to decide if we eat with my parents or alone.”
“Since this is my first time picking, I think we know who’s going to win.”
“Afraid of a challenge?”
Against him? Yes. He had a way of breaking down her defenses. “You’re on.”
His brows rose. “Ready?”
She stole a two second jump start. “Go!”
“Cheater!”
They raked as fast as their arms would go, combing through the bushes and filling the crates. The muscles in her arms burned, yet a smile filled her face. Every few seconds she peeked at his progress, pushing herself to move faster. She’d almost caught up to him when he pulled a second rake out of nowhere and raked with both hands.
“No fair.” She transferred the rake to her other hand for relief.
A minute later, Blake dumped the contents of his rakes into his crate, now overflowing with berries. “Done.”
Olivia dropped her backside onto the dirt, breathless, examining her paltry efforts. “You’re the cheater.”
“You never declared any rules, sweetheart.” He laid a palm flat on the ground and leaned close. He lifted the bill of her hat to see her eyes. “We dine alone.” Blake playfully shoved her bill back down. He stood, picked up his crate, and swaggered to the wagon.
Olivia’s entire body hummed with a tangible energy. Dare she call it happiness? Yes. That was exactly what it was. And after living so long without it, it was more liberating than she’d imagined.
“I never knew blueberry picking could be such a steamy activity.” Arianne nudged Olivia’s shoulder and occupied the spot Blake had just vacated. “I’ll keep that in mind when I need to spice things up.”
Olivia couldn’t deny the statement, so she greeted her friend instead. “Where have you been lately? You haven’t left me for another baker, have you?”
Arianne eased her knees in the small dirt path between the rows. “I’ve not had much of an appetite for anything lately.”
Olivia looked closer. Her friend had lost weight.
Arianne’s husband called her name. Huck sidled over, gave Arianne a water, and bent to palm her cheek. “Don’t push yourself. Stop if you get tired or too hot. I’ll be close by.”
She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “I will.”
His gaze lingered on Arianne’s face a few seconds longer before he joined Blake at the wagon.
To be cherished in such a way was truly a special gift. Emotion clogged Olivia’s eyes, and she turned away, concentrating on the bushes. “That’s sweet.”
“He’s normally not overprotective, but we’re having a baby.”
Olivia turned toward Arianne.
Her friend’s eyes sparkled. “I’m due May twentieth.”
“Ah!” Olivia hugged her, knowing what a rough, rocky road they’d traveled to get that precious life. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Me, too.” Arianne wiped at her eyes. “Sorry. No matter what I do it makes me cry.”
Deep-throated laughter caught their attention. Blake slapped Huck’s back while they shook hands. Olivia suspected he’d just heard the news as well.
Arianne sniffled. “He’s a good guy—Blake. You should give him a chance. See where it leads.”
Olivia popped another berry into her mouth. “I want to.”
“But?” Arianne started raking.
Olivia moved to the next row, facing her friend. With no one else around, she was comfortable spilling the details about her parents, her treatment, and how she’d come to Stone Harbor. “In the end, Justin decided it was all too much for him to handle and left. The man was close to promising ‘in sickness and in health’ and in sickness he just…walked away.” Olivia swallowed her emotions. “I’ve forgotten how to trust, I guess.”
Arianne was back to crying. “I’m sorry for your loss. Justin, and especially your dad.”
Olivia sighed. “I’m not sure if I’m sorry about Justin or not. I mean, of course I am. I loved him. But better to find out his failures before the wedding than after. Right?”
Arianne nodded.
“Blake has proved a million times over that he’s a good man. I just…”
“Don’t want to be disappointed again.”
Olivia set down her rake. “Yeah.”
“I understand.” Arianne dumped her blueberries into Olivia’s crate. “I loved my first husband, though looking back now I think the lust was stronger. We had a courthouse wedding after discovering I was pregnant with Emma. Things were great at first. Then Emma was born and things began to change. Adam began to change. He abandoned us shortly after our third anniversary.
“For a long time, I didn’t want to even look at a man. They all made me want to punch something. Them. But Emma and a newfound relationship with God helped fill all those dark spaces, and, with time, it didn’t hurt so much. Then Huck came strolling into my shop, waving the deed to the building under my nose as the newly inherited owne
r, and all those insecurities came flooding back.”
Olivia plopped her backside in the dirt and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “What did you do?”
“What any girl would do. I manipulated Huck into letting me stay in the building.” Arianne chuckled. “I think he hated me for it, too. He didn’t have a choice though. He’d had a motorcycle accident that took the life of his passenger and nearly killed him. With no one to care for him after they released him from the hospital, he had to accept my offer.
“As the days and months passed, I started falling in love with him, and it scared me to death. He wasn’t a logical choice. But God’s will isn’t always logical. From a human standpoint anyway. He prods us to grow by putting things into our lives we don’t expect. Sometimes that includes heartbreak. But he always works it out for good to those who love Him.”
Olivia did love God. She just didn’t know how to find Him anymore.
“Blake’s a good man, a strong Christian. His fruit proves it.” Arianne tossed a blueberry at her.
Olivia caught it before it bounced off her forehead. She gazed across the field.
Blake helped the workers dump their crates into the almost-full wagon. His back muscles rippled beneath his shirt. His smile struck her heart from way over here. He had a gift for understanding people, male and female, young and old. He was always helping others. Blake climbed onto the tractor and smoke belched from a pipe by the engine. He rolled forward, easing the machinery down the path and then fading into the distance.
Olivia craved the tenderness that was on his inside as much as the ruggedness of his outside. But he was a man, and he had the power to break her heart. Despite the raw fear that came with that territory, she didn’t want to live without him.
30
Blake yawned and eased onto the porch swing, holding a Thermos of coffee.
Scooby rose from his bed in the corner and padded over to greet him.
Stars filled the pre-dawn sky, but in less than an hour, the sun would be blazing.
He poured the extra-strong brew into the lid and sipped. The liquid ran down his throat as silky-smooth as Olivia’s hair had run through his fingertips when he’d hugged her goodbye the night before. It had been difficult to stop there, but he had. Even as far as she’d come, she still wore her timidity like a coat, and he refused to scare her away.
How to Stir a Baker's Heart Page 16
