‘You had dinner brought here?’ She couldn’t seem to get the words out clearly.
Cohen sprang into action, guiding her toward the table of warming trays. ‘You’ve heard of Marcello’s, I hope? It’s the Italian restaurant in North Springs. I wanted to take you there, but there wasn’t enough time in the day to make it happen. So, I had them deliver a variety of different appetizers and entrees, then I called in a favor to Ben, the owner of this shop. He helped to keep everything warm until we got here, so hopefully there’s something here that you’ll like. Do you even like Italian?’
She heard the panic as it grew in his tone the more he spoke. ‘Cohen, this all looks … fabulous. I love Italian food, but … but …’
‘But what?’ Uncertainty etched his features. ‘Is this all too much?’
‘What? Oh my God, no!’ she gasped. ‘It’s just … there’s enough food here for the two of us to eat for a week!’
Cohen clasped a hand to his chest, evidently relieved. ‘Paige, if that’s the best complaint you can come up with, I think I must’ve done something right.’
‘Right?’ She looked at him as though he had sprouted a second head. ‘More like you’ve done something perfect.’
‘So, I’m definitely getting brownie points now?’
‘To heck with the points. You’re definitely getting brownies.’ Her eyes met his. ‘Cohen, this is amazing. Really. Thank you.’
It may have been a trick of the candlelight that flickered in his shining eyes, but Paige thought she saw more emotion in that hazel gaze than just relief. ‘Come and sit down, Paige. You don’t even know what you’re thanking me for yet. Just wait till you try the gnocchi caprese and the fusilli primavera. Then you can thank me.’
‘I think I’ve eaten more bread and pasta tonight than I’ve consumed in ten years.’ Paige set her napkin down over her plate. She couldn’t manage to eat another morsel if she tried. ‘But it was worth it. Cohen, I think I’ve found a new favorite restaurant.’
‘I told you Marcello’s was fantastic.’ He pushed his chair out slightly. Looked like she wasn’t the only one who’d had their fill. ‘But as good as that tiramisu was, I’ll bet yours would rival anything they serve.’
‘You’re too kind.’ Paige watched as Cohen rose from his chair and headed to the table near the wall, filling the small stainless-steel carafe that sat there with steaming hot coffee from the industrial coffeemaker. He brought the carafe back to their table in the middle of the room, and she smiled. She was thoroughly enjoying being wined and dined, a concept she’d only heard of in movies and through people she’d overheard at work in the city. ‘Cohen, I’m not complaining, but you’ve already done too much. You don’t need to serve me after-dessert coffee, too.’
‘I don’t need to …’ He filled one white ceramic mug with coffee and handed it to her. ‘But I want to.’
‘This has been so wonderful.’ She meant every word. As always, the conversation between them had come easily, their anxiety about the first-date formalities dissipating as the decadence of the food took over. Paige enjoyed hearing about the mundane things like Bryce’s spelling bee win and the science fair entry he was working on.
The thing was, those things weren’t mundane at all. They were real life – Cohen’s real life. She was overcome with gratitude that he felt he could share those bits and pieces of his life with her. In turn, she filled him in on the line of gluten-free goodies she was working on for the bakery, and they bounced ideas back and forth about the ways they could decorate the cupcakes for Helen O’Connor’s fundraiser coming up next weekend.
‘It’s not over yet.’ He leaned forward on his elbows. ‘Unless, of course, you want it to be.’
‘I was fearful of this whole date idea, Cohen. You know that.’ She took a sip of her coffee, getting her bearings. She could be honest with him. She needed to be, because she wanted nothing less from him in return. ‘But I’m serious. This has been one of the most wonderful evenings I’ve had in a long time. And I have you to thank you for it. So, no, I can’t say I’m ready to call it a night just yet. As long as you’re okay with that, I mean.’
‘Not a chance. I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve, Miss Henley.’ He stood, coffee cup in one hand. He held out the other. ‘Bring your coffee and follow me.’ Someone was enjoying playing the host.
She did so without hesitation, taking one last longing look at the spread of delicious food on the table and the candles that still flickered, though the wax had dripped enough now that they were less than half their height. The dim lights, the candlelit dinner, the amazing food and soft background music from the soft rock radio station Cohen had turned on in the kitchen area before they sat down …
It was the most romantic gesture anyone had ever done for her.
Cohen led her toward the door they’d come in, stepping to the side just beyond it to indicate the small patio they’d passed on the way in. He set his coffee mug down on the flat arm of one of the lawn chairs.
‘Take a seat, Paige. I’ll be right back.’
He ducked back inside. When he emerged, he was carrying her jacket over one arm and gripping the crystal candleholder in the other, the flame flickering and bobbing with his movement. He placed the candle on the railing, then carefully draped Paige’s jacket over her knees. ‘Wouldn’t want you to get cold.’
‘Thank you.’
He settled into the chair beside her, coffee mug in hand. ‘This is the most serene spot in town, Paige. I know it’s not much in comparison to the lights and glitz of New York, but for tonight, this spot is ours.’
She looked out over the water, watching as a series of boats floated silently in all directions, using the harbor as their own personal highway. The lights shining from each of them reflected off the rippling water, stretching like long, colorful shadows that danced in the breeze. It was far from cold, but Paige welcomed the warmth of her jacket to protect her from the gentle wind that came off the water’s edge.
‘This spot is perfect, Cohen.’ She tore her gaze from the waterfront to turn toward him. ‘I don’t think there’s anywhere else in the world I would rather be.’
Something changed in Cohen’s eyes, his features softening. He said nothing, setting his mug down before he nodded, as though he’d made some kind of decision. ‘Me neither, Paige.’ He spoke in a low voice, and she knew the words were meant for only her, and her alone. ‘Me neither.’
Chapter 12
Cohen
Another Sunday came and went in the Beckett household. It didn’t carry the awkwardness that Cohen had expected after his date night with Paige the night before. Somehow, he’d expected Bryce to question him about it. Cohen hadn’t quite known how he would approach the subject if he did. But his son said nothing. Instead, he chose to discuss his friend’s video game selection and the endless junk food they’d consumed during his sleepover at Hunter’s house the night before. The thought of the sugar rotting his teeth and the games rotting his mind made Cohen cringe inwardly, but he was glad his son had a good time.
He noticed Bryce’s furtive glances, though. And those glances said more than any words from his mouth could. The boy wondered about his relationship with Paige. Cohen knew he would. Bryce was a smart kid, and he knew his father had never taken anyone out on a date in the past eight years.
Cohen wondered about his relationship with Paige, too.
If there was contention about it, however, Bryce didn’t show it. The look in his eyes was laden with curiosity, not malice or hurt. Call it cowardice, but Cohen decided to let his son come to him when he was ready. Maybe by then he would be ready to talk about it himself.
He had no idea what he would tell the boy, mostly because he was still trying to sort through his thoughts and emotions on his own. One thing was for sure, though …
Cohen liked Paige. More than he knew how to deal with. He not only liked her, he admired her. Admired the way she took charge of her life and danced to her own beat. Admired th
e way she seemed so fearless in the name of her search for happiness, yet had her reservations about jumping into anything with someone she had only known for a few weeks. He respected that. More than she knew. Paige wasn’t someone looking for a quick fix on the road to contentment, and she sure wasn’t someone who was looking for someone to provide it for her.
She understood what had taken Cohen years to figure out – happiness wasn’t something someone else could give; it was something people had to allow themselves to find, experience, and accept. Only then could they let someone else in to share it with.
Was Cohen ready to take that leap and let Paige in?
Even more, was Paige ready to let him in? Sure, she’d had a good time last night, but she had been honest about her hesitation from the beginning. He’d been planning to call her later today, but maybe he should take a step back and leave the ball in her court. Maybe he should let the next step be hers. He didn’t want to come across as overbearing. Maybe he was overthinking this.
That sure was a lot of maybes. And all those maybes made him wonder if he was the one truly not ready.
Bryce ambled into the living room, where Cohen had sprawled out on the sofa with a list of town residents he planned to approach about helping out with the silent auction he’d had the idea to include on the fundraiser day for Helen O’Connor. The clinic emergency phone sat on the coffee table, and he sent it warning glances, silently pleading for it to stay silent just a bit longer. He was enjoying the peace and quiet around him, even if his mind was anything but.
‘Hey, that’s my spot.’ Bryce dropped himself into the oversized armchair beside the couch, eyeing up the cushions his father sat on.
‘You snooze, you lose.’ Cohen tossed a gray corduroy throw pillow at him. ‘Finally decided to make an appearance, huh? I could hear you hissing out threats from here.’
‘I was playing Fortnite with Hunter. Things were getting intense.’
‘Obviously,’ Cohen said. ‘I guess I wouldn’t understand.’
‘Yeah, you’re too old.’
‘That was harsh.’ But a grin danced on Cohen’s mouth. ‘You’re lucky I don’t have another pillow to throw.’
‘You’d miss anyway, old man.’
Laughter bubbled up from his throat. The kid was on fire today. ‘Did you just come out here to make fun of me? You’re doing a bang-up job of it.’
‘I aim to please,’ Bryce quipped, giving a half-hearted bow without getting up from the chair. ‘Nah, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.’
Oh, here it comes. ‘Sure, what’s up?’
‘It’s about Paige.’
Cohen may have been expecting it, but that didn’t make his son’s words any less ominous. ‘I figured you would have questions about her.’
‘Yeah?’ His son tilted his head. ‘Then why didn’t you say anything before now?’
Good question. Mostly because I’m a coward. ‘I figured you would come to me when you were ready.’
‘And are you?’ Bryce countered, sounding a lot more like an adult than Cohen wanted to admit. ‘Ready?’
He let out a long breath, surprised by his kid’s blatant inquisition. ‘Ready for Paige? Bryce, I don’t know, buddy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see where things are going, you know? She seems really nice, and she’s taken a shine to you, I think—’
‘Wait, what are we talking about?’
Cohen stared at the young boy, confused. ‘About Paige. You asked me if I was ready to talk about her.’
‘Technically, I didn’t,’ Bryce explained. ‘I meant to ask you if you were ready for my questions, but at least now I know what you’re really thinking, Dad. You like Paige, and you finally admit it.’
Cohen just stared at his son. Had the boy really just tricked him into admitting his feelings for Paige Henley? One glance at the crooked grin on Bryce’s face and Cohen knew he had been duped. And the boy had done it purposely. And perfectly.
How sneaky.
‘You purposely confused me, didn’t you?’ Cohen was shocked. Not just because his ten-year-old had the capability to talk circles around him, but because he’d fallen for it.
‘Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t keep up in your old age.’ Bryce raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk now a full-fledged smile. ‘Dad likes Paige,’ he taunted in a sing-song voice. ‘Dad likes Paige.’
‘You are far too devious for your own good, boy.’ He shook his head, wondering how in the world Bryce had grown up so fast. ‘And far too smart.’
‘I get it from you, Dad.’ He shrugged. ‘Besides, it’s okay. I like Paige, too.’
‘You do?’ Cohen was too surprised by his son’s admission to show his pride at having his son believe his brains came from him.
‘Yeah, of course. She’s pretty cool.’
Cohen let that register in silence. He liked Paige, and he’d unwittingly admitted it to Bryce. And Bryce liked Paige, too. The boy had even given him his blessing to pursue something more than the friendship they’d formed, in his own roundabout way.
‘Besides,’ Bryce continued, ‘She bakes the best chocolate cake ever. What’s not to like?’ He stood and cast a glance in the direction of the clock in the kitchen. From his vantage point, he would be able to read it clearly. ‘I’m going to go play with Jazz in the backyard for a bit.’
And just like that, Bryce disappeared out of the room, leaving Cohen with only his jumbled thoughts to keep him company. Bryce’s confession hit him like a bombshell. It wasn’t that it was a huge surprise. He knew his son was a fan of Paige. And it wasn’t that he had expected him to react in a negative light.
What Cohen hadn’t expected, though, was that his son would be the one to instigate the conversation and expertly coerce Cohen’s own convoluted confession from him about his feelings for her.
‘Wait!’ Cohen hollered, springing from the couch and following Bryce out to the back door. ‘If that wasn’t what you were trying to talk to me about, then what did you want to talk about regarding Paige?’
Bryce was crouched down on one knee, tying up his running shoes. When he stood to his full height, the mischievous grin was back in place. ‘Oh, just school. My class is doing a project on local businesses and we’re supposed to pick one to interview the owner and ask questions about it. I wanted to ask you if it was all right if I chose Paige and the bakery instead of the vet clinic. Hunter says he wants to interview you, anyway.’
Now, Cohen knew for sure that his son had purposely been vague in order to extract information from him. There was no reason he couldn’t have just come out with it. Instead, he had danced around the subject, focusing his carefully chosen words on Paige and not the school project.
Well played, son.
‘I’m okay with it if Paige is,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to ask her, though.’
‘Is she coming over later?’ The boy held his gaze with the expertise of a master negotiator. It scared Cohen immensely that at only ten years old his son knew how to get him to divulge answers to questions without actually having to ask them.
‘Not tonight,’ he replied carefully. ‘But I have to talk to her about some fundraiser stuff for next weekend, so we can stop in during Jazz’s walk tomorrow night after the clinic closes and we’ve had supper. When’s the project due?’
‘End of next week.’ Bryce clapped his hands together. ‘So, that works perfect.’
‘You sure?’ Cohen swallowed, then added, ‘If you want, you can stop in at the bakery on your way home from school.’
‘Alone?’ Bryce went still, waiting and watching with bated breath.
Cohen knew he was stepping over a precipice he couldn’t crawl back from. But he had to loosen the reins a little at some point. His son was a responsible kid, always had been. He couldn’t think of a better time to give him a little freedom than when he had a school project he was interested in that would send him in Paige’s direction. ‘Sure. But you’re there for school, not to coerce choc
olate cake from Paige.’
‘Deal. Thanks, Dad!’ He high-fived him with overzealous enthusiasm, making his father chuckle.
Cohen watched Bryce amble out the door. He didn’t look away until he saw him disappear into the back entrance of the clinic. All he could think about was that his son had chosen Paige over him. The thought didn’t hurt his feelings. How could it? He could relate. Mostly because he was pretty sure his own heart had chosen Paige, too.
The next day, the bell clanged overhead as Cohen slipped into the bakery. As usual, a handful of customers mingled amongst the display cases and coolers. Immediately, he noticed a new glass case set up to the right of the counter, with a fancy calligraphy sign announcing the new gluten-free cakes, cookies, and breads Paige had been agonizing over for the past few weeks. He was proud of her. She had finally taken the plunge.
‘Well, hey,’ he said by way of greeting. ‘We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.’
Paige whirled around. Today’s apron boasted oversized roses and a damask background. A white smudge of flour or baking powder was smeared on her cheek, and her long locks were pulled up into a messy yet stylish bun on the top of her head. She looked downright adorable.
‘You’re right.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Perhaps we should just meet at ice cream shops after hours and eat to-die-for Italian food instead.’
Cohen quirked an eyebrow. It was the first time she had openly flirted with him. At least, he thought she was flirting. It had been a while since he’d played that game. ‘I must admit, I like the way you think, Paige.’ He nodded toward the cake on the back counter behind her, partially covered with pale blue, pink, and white flowers and leaves made of frosting. No wait, fondant – that’s what she’d told him it was called. ‘That’s pretty.’
The Forget-Me-Not Bakery Page 12
