The Forget-Me-Not Bakery

by Caroline Flynn

  ‘Thank you.’ She turned back to the cake, spinning it on the turning cake pedestal to show the designs from all sides. ‘It’s my umpteenth attempt at Allison’s wedding cake. Now that she’s officially picked a date and everything—’

  ‘She has? I hadn’t heard that yet.’

  ‘Well, I am closer to the source than most of Port Landon,’ she laughed. ‘So, I would hope I would know before the coffee drinkers at the diner.’

  ‘I won’t tell them you said that.’

  She levelled her gaze on him, narrowing her eyes until they were only slits. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she said with a sly grin. Then, with a nonchalant shrug, she added, ‘Besides, they probably wouldn’t believe you, anyway.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ he chuckled. ‘Hell knows they seem to have the inside scoop about stuff before it even happens.’ He matched her shrug. ‘But, either way, whatever you say, it’s safe with me. Locked away in the vault. I promise.’

  Paige paused and regarded him with a curious stare. Then, as though she’d made some kind of decision about him, she snapped her fingers. ‘Good. Let me help these customers, then I’ve got a quick favor to ask of you.’

  It was on the tip of his tongue to respond with, ‘Anything,’ but she was gone, wiping her hands on her ruffle-edged apron. She boxed up an entire black forest cake topped with rich red maraschino cherries – a mirror image of the one they’d dined on in her apartment – while he stood there admiring how far her business had come.

  He remembered fondly the old-school décor of Wilhelmina’s bake shop before Paige took it over, with its red and white checkered curtains over the windows, the old melamine tables and cases that displayed her baked goodies. The linoleum on the floors had been a battered beige color, and they had long ago lost their shine from the decades of traffic they’d been subjected to. The bread, muffins, and baked goods had always been top notch, and treats from Wilhelmina’s were at the top of the list for anyone visiting Port Landon. The shop itself, however, had begun to look rundown and in need of some desperate tender loving care.

  And that’s exactly what Paige Henley had done. New barnboard-inspired laminate flooring had been laid down, and the chipped melamine tables and cases had been replaced with glass-doored display cases and coolers with shiny enamel, and silvery hinges. The walls had been painted a soft sage green, a color he thought resembled that of her living room upstairs. Off-white curtains hung from wrought iron rods above the windows. The two huge floor-to-ceiling bay windows that faced out onto the sidewalk were open, and a white bistro set sat in front of each of them for customers to enjoy their purchases if they wanted to indulge immediately.

  It was a simple yet classy little spot, and he thought it matched Paige’s personality to a tee.

  ‘Okay,’ Paige said, heading to the sink around the corner to wash her hands after handling the money. ‘I need your help.’

  She waved him behind the counter to where the cake sat, and Cohen followed her silent instruction as she placed her hands on his forearms, guiding him to the spot in front of her. ‘So, here’s the thing. Allison has given me her ideas for the cake and I’ve come up with numerous variations of those ideas, but haven’t quite knocked it out of the ballpark yet.’

  ‘What’s been wrong with the past attempts?’ He eyed the cake, looking for something that might be considered untoward. It still looked like a pretty wedding cake to him.

  ‘Let’s see …’ She spun the cake around slowly to the side where the floral décor hadn’t been added. ‘The wedding colors are gray and purple, so I’ve tried numerous times to create a floral motif on the cake, but Allison’s changed her mind a few times.’ He could hear the exasperation she tried to hide, and he suppressed a smile. ‘Then, the flavor hasn’t been up to par. She wanted vanilla, but not a regular vanilla. Her words, not mine. She wants something closer to the vanilla bean flavoring they use in the lattes at the coffeehouse. Again, her words, not mine.’

  Cohen couldn’t help it. He laughed. ‘You’re a good friend, Paige. I can hear the frustration in your voice, and still you don’t complain. You just forge ahead toward perfection.’

  ‘I’m just trying to do what she wants. It’s her day, not mine.’

  ‘And that’s what makes you such a good friend.’ He nodded at the cake beside him. ‘So, this is vanilla bean cake with the perfect flowers?’

  ‘In theory,’ she replied. ‘The flowers are small and intricate, but they’re forget-me-nots. A symbol of true, faithful love and good memories, and the cake is what I call a Paige Henley original, made specifically according to Allison’s well-meaning ramblings.’ She set about lopping off a small wedge of the cake onto a dessert plate and stabbing a forkful. ‘So, here’s what I need you to do. I want you to close your eyes and pretend this is your cake. Your day.’

  ‘You want me to pretend it’s my wedding day.’

  Immediately, Paige winced. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—’

  Cohen reached out and touched Paige’s arm, steadying her. ‘It’s okay.’ He hadn’t meant to mortify her, reminding her that he had, in fact, had a wedding day once upon a time. He frankly found her request a bit amusing. ‘Let’s do this.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Paige’s arm was rigid and motionless beneath his fingertips.

  ‘Of course,’ he insisted. ‘I get cake from it, don’t I?’

  She held up a finger, rolling her eyes. ‘Fine. Just shush. Now, it’s your day, and all you wanted was a vanilla bean cake with a light, airy frosting that complements the flavors. I said close your eyes, Cohen.’

  He did, but not without an exaggerated sigh. ‘Okay, okay. It’s my day, my cake … I get it.’

  ‘As I was saying, you’ve just eaten your meal and this cake is supposed to go perfectly with the after-dinner coffee and tea being served. Not too sweet, not too heavy. And you’re sharing it with … the person you love. Your best friend.’

  Cohen suddenly felt like all the air in the room had evaporated. He hung on her every word. Not just on the words themselves, but on the soothing voice he’d come to appreciate. He opened his eyes; he couldn’t help himself. He needed to correlate the comforting voice with the intriguing sapphire eyes he’d craved to see since he got up that morning. ‘Keep going,’ he encouraged her softly.

  Something shifted in Paige’s eyes as they locked with his, and he saw her throat move visibly. ‘The cake has been cut,’ she continued in a gentler tone, ‘And you’re staring into the adoring eyes of that one person. Your true love. Your forget-me-not.’ She lifted the fork up. ‘Your gaze doesn’t waver as you lean in and open your mouth slightly …’

  Cohen was mesmerized by her. He leaned in just as the words tumbled from her lips.

  ‘And, together, you share that first bite of the cake that signifies the celebration of the life that awaits you.’ She guided the fork to his mouth and Cohen tasted the sweet, decadent flavors as they burst on his tongue. He moaned, overcome by the cake as well as the moment itself.

  It was perfect. The cake, the moment … and Paige.

  ‘Paige, you’ve done it,’ he said once he managed to find his voice. ‘That cake is pure perfection.’ When he opened his eyes, he came face to face with her. Only inches separated their faces. And their mouths. He couldn’t breathe, his gaze flitting down to her pink lips and up again to her eyes, round and wide and locked on his. He could feel the damp warmth of her breath against his skin, coming out in shallow pants as she watched him, waited for him …

  ‘Well, would you look at you two!’

  With deer-in-the-headlights looks, both Cohen and Paige snapped their gazes away from each other and toward the door. Without thinking, Cohen took a step away from Paige. He realized just as quickly that she did the same.

  ‘Aww, come on, you guys,’ Allison snickered, clapping her hands together happily. ‘Don’t break up the romantic ambience on my part.’

  How had she even made it into the shop without him or Paige
hearing the damn bell chime? Had he really been that lost in Paige Henley that his senses had shut down?

  She was really doing a number on him.

  He could see the blush creeping up into Paige’s cheeks, and he knew very well that it looked like exactly what it was. He and Paige had been taste-testing someone else’s wedding cake. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been the only one pretending it was their own. Then, there was the fact that he had been a fraction of a second away from kissing her. So close, so warm and inviting …

  ‘Dr Cohen, you’d better be treating that girl nicely.’ Sonya’s voice sounded from behind Allison just as she shut the shop door behind her. ‘Heaven knows we want her to stick around Port Landon. Looks to me like you do, too.’

  He could have groaned at the sight of Sonya Ritter and her overbearing matchmaking attempts, but he was too engrossed in the truth of her statement. Paige wasn’t only doing a number on him, she was doing a number on the others in Port Landon as well. She belonged here, and it was Sonya’s interpretation that he held the power to keep her here.

  That was fine, because Cohen Beckett had every intention of keeping Paige Henley within the town limits. All he could hope was that her intentions were the same.

  Chapter 13

  Paige

  She meant it innocently enough. In the beginning, anyway. Allison’s wedding cake was driving her nuts, and she’d only wanted someone else’s opinion as to where she stood in baking and designing the perfect one. Other than the bride-to-be herself, Cohen was the only real friend Paige had in Port Landon. She had been resourceful in recruiting him for his say on the matter.

  Until, suddenly, it wasn’t about the cake at all. At first, she was only trying to explain the level of perfection she was going for. How perfect she wanted the moment and the cake to be for her cousin on her wedding day.

  Then, her guided visualization had quickly turned into Paige’s own personal fantasy of her own romantic wedding day. Having Cohen standing before her, his eyes glassy and fixated on her the moment they opened, like she was the only woman in the world …

  She’d gotten lost in the illusion. Lost in his gaze, cognizant of the way it kept lowering to her lips. He was a breath away, only a mere breath.

  And, of course, it just had to be Allison and Sonya who appeared out of nowhere and ruined it all.

  ‘Aren’t you guys just the cutest?’ Allison was gushing, batting her eyelashes. She was putting on a theatrical show Paige didn’t care to see.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘We were just discussing your wedding cake. You should be thanking Cohen for even attempting to help me perfect it before I shove another feeble try under your nose.’

  ‘There’s no one in the world who’s going to turn down cake, Paige.’ Allison was still looking between her cousin and Cohen. ‘I take it you told the good doctor the news? That Christopher and I have set a date?’

  ‘She mentioned it.’ Cohen cast a furtive glance toward Paige. One that screamed he was trying to diffuse the situation and save her from it, just as much as himself. He put down the fork he’d taken from Paige’s fingers when they’d been interrupted, setting it down on the edge of the plate with a soft clatter. ‘I should probably be going—’

  ‘The first of August,’ Allison interjected, leaning her elbows onto the counter and peering at him and Paige with wide, dreamy eyes. ‘That’s the big day.’

  Cohen looked a bit shocked. ‘That’s only three weeks away.’

  Paige knew all too well the short timeframe. Hence her reason for losing her sanity when it came to the wedding cake and her maid of honor responsibilities.

  ‘That’s right.’ Sonya spoke up, pointing a finger at Cohen. There was an assertiveness in her tone Paige hadn’t expected. Judging by Cohen’s expression, he hadn’t, either. ‘So, you’d best be getting around to asking this lovely girl to be your date for the wedding reception.’

  Paige’s jaw dropped at the same time Cohen’s did. Allison, however, clapped her hands together like an enthusiastic schoolgirl and jumped up and down.

  ‘How did I not think of that?’ she exclaimed. ‘Paige, Cohen can be your date for my wedding!’

  If she thought she was mortified before, Paige knew she must be seventeen shades of crimson by now. Words failed her. The only thing she could do was stare at her cousin and Sonya with bulging eyes, her mouth opening and closing on the excuses she couldn’t seem to voice.

  She was going to kill her cousin. It was official. ‘Allison, I …’ She snapped her gaze to Cohen, her eyes pleading. ‘I’m s-so sorry, Cohen. It seems these ladies forgot to bring their manners with them.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Cohen assured her. He waved a dismissive hand, a gesture which eased her mind a bit. Then, he tugged a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Look that over. It’s a list of the people I’ve talked to about the silent auction for the fundraiser, and a few I haven’t. I really do need to get back to the clinic, but maybe we can meet up with you tonight?’

  ‘Tonight?’ She couldn’t keep up. The change of topics was giving her whiplash, and Paige was even more humiliated by the realization that Cohen was changing the subject and pretending like being her wedding date had never even been suggested.

  ‘For an evening walk with Bryce and Jazz,’ he explained. ‘And me, of course. We can iron out the final details for the fundraiser.’

  ‘Oh.’ She shook her head, hoping to clear it, and plastered a half-hearted smile on her face. ‘Of course, sure.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Cohen clapped his hands together and rounded the counter, leaving Paige standing beside the wedding cake alone. His absence left a palpable void in the empty space he occupied only moments before. ‘Well, ladies, it’s been a pleasure.’ He nodded his head toward Allison and Sonya.

  Paige couldn’t take her eyes off him. And when he made it to the door and turned around to face her once more, she was still fixated on him, like she knew he couldn’t possibly leave the conversation on that note.

  ‘Oh, and Paige?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Cohen flashed her a crooked grin. ‘For the record, if I’m invited to your dear cousin’s wedding, I’d love nothing more than to be your date.’

  Paige was still beaming from ear to ear when he opened the door and disappeared out onto the sidewalk, the bell chiming in his wake.

  It might have been the most awkward moment she’d had since moving there, but Paige couldn’t tame the smile that played on her lips for the rest of the afternoon. She had gone from being utterly mortified by Allison and Sonya’s intrusion and candor, to completely enamored by Cohen’s easy-going way of making everything better.

  She had a date for the wedding. Cohen could have played it off like a meaningless joke, or pretended Sonya’s suggestion hadn’t been heard, but instead he used it to his advantage and made sure that she – as well as Allison and Sonya – knew exactly where he stood on the matter.

  He’d love nothing more than to be her date. He’d said it in front of everyone. It was one thing to go for walks together at night, or to have a quiet dinner together without the prying eyes of the other people they interacted with every day. But Allison’s wedding was going to be a community affair. Everyone and their uncle would be there.

  And Paige would be there, too. On Cohen’s arm.

  The giddy teenager within her was squealing with delight. The more time she spent with Cohen Beckett, the more Paige knew she cared about him. In only a few short weeks, he and his exuberant son had managed to sneak their way into Paige’s heart. And they had done it with a quiet and gentle kindness.

  That’s what she liked about him so much – his gentle nature. Cohen was a man; there was no denying his rugged handsomeness, or the chiseled muscles of his forearms that peeked out from the sleeves of his scrub tops. But he was also a gentleman. Polite to a fault. He’d raised his son the same way.

  That was another thing – Cohen had raised his son. On his own. After befalling a trage
dy that some people might never dig themselves out of. After losing the woman he’d both promised and expected to spend the rest of his life with. But their time together had been abruptly shortened, stealing Cohen’s role as a husband and compounding his role as a father drastically. He became not only a father, which was difficult enough, but a single father. His efforts had resulted in an adolescent boy he should be extremely proud to call his son.

  She was still thinking about Bryce when he suddenly materialized as though from thin air. The bell chimed and there he was, his lanky limbs dressed in a plain green T-shirt, jeans, and Converse shoes. A Michigan Wolverines hat was atop his head, his sandy hair sticking out from under it in little wisps.

  ‘Hey, Paige.’

  ‘I was just thinking about you,’ she admitted by way of greeting.

  Bryce pushed his backpack farther behind him. ‘I really hope that means you were thinking of feeding me chocolate fudge cake.’

  She laughed. How could she not? ‘I think we both know what your dad would say about that.’ She cast a glance at the clock behind her. ‘Especially since you haven’t eaten supper yet.’

  ‘Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?’ Bryce shrugged cheerfully.

  She shook her head, chuckling as she cleaned out the display case on top of the counter. The banana bread and lemon poppyseed loaves she’d made the night before had sold out before noon, much to her delight. ‘Has anyone told you yet that your sense of humor is adorable, Bryce?’

  A hint of pink shone in his cheeks, but the boy scoffed, pretending it was no big deal. ‘I was going for rugged and manly, actually.’

  She pressed her lips together until she could safely get words out without bursting into laughter. She continued, ‘I won’t tell anyone I called you adorable, then.’ She tossed the paper liner from the bottom of the display case into the trash can. ‘What brings you by? It’s slim pickings around here today for sugary leftovers, I’m afraid.’