‘All right.’ Cohen nodded, encouraging her.
‘He came to see me earlier today. At the bakery. With Hunter.’
That was news to Cohen. However, it didn’t strike him as the catastrophic breaking news Paige was making it out to be. ‘He didn’t mention it,’ he said carefully. ‘Did something happen?’ Cohen quickly worried that Bryce had said something untoward to Paige about their relationship and hurt her feelings. Maybe his son wasn’t as okay with things as he thought.
‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘Well, yes. I mean, I didn’t see it—’
‘Paige.’ Cohen stepped forward and touched her forearms gently. He was close enough that she was forced to tilt her head up in order to see his face. He tried to convey a comforting expression despite the anxiety that gnawed away at his insides. ‘Just tell me.’
‘Bryce and Hunter came into the bakery,’ she began again. Paige took in a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. ‘I was busy, so I wasn’t paying much attention at the time. But after they left, that’s when I noticed.’
‘Noticed what?’ She wasn’t making sense to Cohen.
Her gaze fixed on his. ‘That there were a couple boxes of tarts and squares missing.’
‘What would Bryce know about that?’ He couldn’t fully register what she was getting at. The idea was that preposterous to him.
Paige’s throat moved visibly but her body was still, posture stiff. ‘I think he was there … when it happened,’ she admitted. ‘When the items were taken.’
Hearing the accusation fall from her lips hit Cohen straight in the gut with the force of a hammer. ‘Wait. You think Bryce stole from you?’
‘I don’t …’ She was struggling to string a coherent sentence together. ‘I set that table up in the morning, Cohen. And watched all day to see what sold.’
‘But you didn’t actually see him take anything.’
‘Well, no.’ She shook her head. ‘I would have said something to the boys then—’
‘And have you?’ Cohen couldn’t believe what she was suggesting. Surely she realized his son would never do such a thing? ‘Mentioned this to Bryce?’
‘What? No. I wanted to talk to you first.’ This close, Cohen could see the glimmer of tears brimming her eyelids.
‘You mean you wanted to accuse my son of stealing.’ He spat out the words as though they left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn’t believe her audacity. ‘Bryce wouldn’t steal from you, Paige. Or anyone. I raised him better than that.’
‘Cohen, I’m not questioning that at all,’ she pleaded with him. ‘I said it wasn’t just Bryce there. Hunter was involved, too. Maybe he talked him into it or something.’
‘So, let me get this straight.’ Cohen stepped away from her, holding a finger up to count out the points she’d made. Acid rose in his stomach, burning in his throat. ‘Not only are you telling me my son stole from you, but now he’s impressionable, too? A follower of the masses?’
‘Please, Cohen,’ she pleaded. ‘I didn’t come to you to start trouble.’
‘My son is not a thief, Paige.’ Cohen scoffed at the ludicrous idea. ‘This isn’t New York City, you know.’
Her eyes widened, appalled. ‘What does New York have to do with this?’
‘Not everyone is out to get you here,’ he explained, venom tainting in his voice. ‘You might get away with accusing people of ridiculous things there, but that kind of thing doesn’t fly around here.’
Paige’s mouth gaped open. ‘Cohen, that’s not fair.’
‘Neither is spreading lies about my son. You said you never saw it happen.’
‘I didn’t, but—’
‘So, you have no proof,’ he stated. ‘My son wouldn’t steal from you. I know that. And, frankly, I’m hurt that you don’t.’
‘You’re making it sound like I’m insinuating he’s a convict waiting to happen.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Kids will be kids, Cohen. I thought you would be more reasonable about this.’
A hollow laugh escaped his throat. Was she serious? ‘You’ll have to excuse me if I’m not reasonable about you accusing my kid of something he didn’t do.’ He made air quotes with his fingers. This was getting out of hand. He didn’t need to stand here and listen to these absurdities.
She huffed a loud sigh, turning away from him. ‘This is not how I thought this would go at all.’
‘Trust me, I’m feeling the same way about tonight.’ All the things he yearned to say to her, all the feelings he harbored for her that he wanted to confess – it was all tossed out the proverbial goddamn window by her allegations.
He had been waiting to tell her he’d fallen in love with her. She had been waiting to tell him she believed his son was a thief.
‘Cohen, I don’t want to fight with you.’ She spoke with a more even tone. ‘I know I don’t have children of my own but—’
‘No, you don’t.’ He cut her off, fueled by the outrage simmering inside him. ‘You don’t have kids, so I can’t expect you to understand, Paige. But I can tell you one thing – you don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about.’
‘No?’ Paige’s jaw was clenched. Any other time Cohen might have thought the fire in her eyes was attractive, but not now. ‘What I do know is that two boys came into my bake shop, acted strangely, then bolted for the door with guilty looks on their faces as they left. After that, two takeout boxes were missing from the pile I’d set out that morning, and a bunch of tarts and squares had miraculously vanished. Bryce and Hunter were the only two people in the shop then, Cohen. That’s what I do know, all right? Whether or not you believe it, that’s your prerogative.’
‘Well, I don’t believe it, Paige.’ He swallowed hard, afraid to look away from her in case his fears shone through the foundation of his anger. Fears that what she was saying could be plausible. Fears that he didn’t know his son at all.
Fears that he didn’t know Paige at all.
‘I’m a liar, then, is that it?’ Her voice cracked. Cohen’s heart cracked along with it.
The words toppled from his mouth before he had the sense to stop them. ‘My son is not a thief, Paige. So, you can take it how you want it.’ Cohen immediately regretted that vindictive jab the moment it left his mouth. But it was too late. He shook his head, wondering how this evening had taken such a horrendous turn for the worst. ‘Maybe it’s best if I go.’
‘It is,’ she agreed, the first of her tears toppling down onto her cheeks. ‘I don’t need your help to finish up.’
Cohen heard what she was really saying. She didn’t need him. And as angry as he was, as hurt as he was, it cut through him with the force of a thousand daggers, slicing through the battered but mended heart he’d given away to her. He left without another word.
Chapter 19
Paige
She had spent the past few weeks looking forward to today. Now that it was here, Paige wished she could fast forward through it completely. Even more, she wished she could rewind to last night and change the way the evening had concluded.
Paige should have never brought up the incident with Bryce and Hunter. If she had just kept her mouth shut, kept her suspicions to herself, things would still be good between her and Cohen. At the very least, she could have said something different, been gentler about the topic when she approached him.
Who was she kidding? She knew very well it didn’t matter how she said it. Cohen was too protective of his son to hear what she was really saying. She didn’t blame him for wanting to protect Bryce from slander. She would never say he was overprotective either, because Paige wholeheartedly believed parents should protect their children at all costs. But she was hurt that Cohen would think she would go to him with her concerns without being certain Bryce was actually involved in some way. It had been hard enough to talk about it to Cohen in the first place. Hard enough to admit she believed sweet, exuberant Bryce was even capable of such a thing. So, to have Cohen completely shut down on her and retaliate with hu
rtful words, portraying her as just some city slicker with no common sense and even littler knowledge about children …
Cohen Beckett had hurt her. She had hurt him, too. And that left them in a place Paige wished they didn’t have to be.
Apart.
Cohen and Bryce might only be down the street, but they might as well have been a million miles away. She could still hear the echo of the door at the bottom of the stairs slamming when Cohen had slipped his shoes on and left to go in search of Bryce and Jazz. She wasn’t sure her apartment had ever felt so empty and lonely. The colorful array of cupcakes that littered every surface did little to help, creating a stark contrast between their vibrant colors and her bleak mood. She hadn’t been able to tell one color from the next by the time her tears took over, anyway.
By morning, nothing had changed. Cohen was still gone, her apartment still carried the emptiness left by the space once occupied by him, and her heart remained in the shattered pieces it had crumbled into as he had walked away from her the night before.
So much for the day she’d been looking forward to.
In the early morning light, Paige tackled the remaining tin of cupcakes she’d set aside before going to bed last night, accompanied only by her coffee cup. She’d brewed the coffee strong and bold. She was going to need it. She ignored the texts on her cell, unable to handle Alex Livingston in her current state of mind, and instead turned on the radio app on her phone, thinking the melody and morning talk show hosts would help to ease her cluttered mind. But it was no use. No amount of guitar riffs or heated debates was going to fill the void left by Cohen and his anger.
She was so conflicted about the entire interaction. Maybe she should have regretted mentioning Bryce and Hunter’s odd behaviors at her shop yesterday, but she didn’t. Not completely, anyway. Sure, she never wanted to upset Cohen or drive a wedge between him and his son, or her and him. But Cohen needed to know what his son was up to; she believed that. She was a firm believer in taking responsibility for one’s own actions, and though she might not have the first clue about parenting or raising a child, Paige believed that, if the roles were reversed, she would want to know the incident had happened. All she had were hypothetical beliefs to go on, but she was confident she would want to know, all the same.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t go back in time and fix this, given the chance. If she could, Paige never would have let Cohen disappear down the stairs and out into the night. She would have said something to make him stay, done something more to repair the damage she had done.
But Cohen did leave. And he didn’t call or text her to take back his hurtful words. She didn’t, either. Which left them at a standstill, wishing things were different, with broken hearts and bruised pride.
And four hours together at a fundraiser. Perfect.
Cohen was nowhere to be found when she opened up the bakery, intent on arranging the cupcakes and boxes for the event. The shop wasn’t open on Sundays, but the Port Landon Ledger had donated an advertising spot each week for the past three weeks announcing that the fundraiser and silent auction would be located at The Cakery. She had two hours to transform the storefront into an inviting, organized landing for half the town to mill about in.
‘Up and at ’em, are you?’
Allison poked her head in the door, setting off the doorbell. Like the reliable hero of a cousin she was, she held a tray of paper coffee cups in her hand, sugar packets and creamer containers stuffed into the two hollows that were empty.
‘I have never been so happy to see you.’ Paige sighed, reaching for one of the cups. ‘And you, too, Allison.’
‘I’ll let that one slide.’ Allison held the tray out, let Paige retrieve her coffee, then set the tray on the counter. ‘You okay? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look so hot.’
She groaned. Hot wasn’t what she was going for, but Paige had hoped her sleepless night wasn’t written all over her face. Unfortunately, she should have known there wasn’t much she could keep from Allison. There never had been. ‘I didn’t sleep much.’
‘Trouble in paradise?’
Paige rolled her eyes. ‘Wow, the town is already talking, are they?’
‘No.’ She drew out the word slowly. ‘Lucky guess. But you just confirmed it, so spill the beans, Paige. What happened?’
‘Cohen Beckett happened.’ Paige took a long sip from her coffee cup just so she wouldn’t have to elaborate. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know the words to choose to convey how conflicted she was over the outcome of last night’s talk with him.
She arched a brow. ‘If he hurt you, I swear, I’ll steal drugs from his own damn clinic and make it look like an accident.’
‘Allison!’ Paige covered her face. She was grateful that her cousin would commit a felony in her honor, but the mention of stealing had a thick lump forming in her throat. ‘Careful, your crazy’s starting to show.’
‘You say crazy, I say family’s gotta stick together.’ Allison shrugged. ‘But fine. How about you talk, and I’ll pull the gazillion containers of cupcakes out of the coolers. Sound good?’
The bell above the door chimed again, sounding loud in the otherwise silence of the room. Paige turned and saw Cohen standing there in his faded jeans and plain blue T-shirt, a box tucked under one arm and a backpack slung over his other shoulder. Her mouth became dry at the sight of him.
‘Am I late?’ His gaze was fixed on hers as he spoke. Paige couldn’t bring herself to look away. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she thought she heard apologetic uncertainty in his voice.
‘Good morning.’ She did her best to sound chipper, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. ‘You’re right on time. The folding table where the silent auction items will be on display is over there.’
‘Got it.’ He let the door close behind him. His eyes lingered on hers as though trying to convey something to her without verbalizing it, then he let the eye contact break, heading over to the table and allowing the backpack to slip down his arm to the floor.
Paige stole a glance at Allison. She was watching the two of them with marked interest, eyes narrowed each time they landed on Cohen. She swore she could see her cousin mapping out a mental target across his chest. Paige shook her head, hoping Allison would get the drift that their conversation was over for the time being, and that she wasn’t to do or say anything regarding what little Paige had confided in her. Allison just shrugged again, but Paige knew that shrug all too well. It meant she understood what Paige was saying, yet she could promise nothing. It was Paige’s turn to narrow her eyes, warning her beloved cousin to stand down and keep the murder plotting to a minimum.
It wasn’t Allison that Paige had to worry about, though. Seconds later, the bell tolled once more above the door. This time, Sonya Ritter waltzed in. She might not have known what happened with Cohen and Paige the night before, but she definitely assumed she had the scoop on their relationship status.
‘Let’s raise some money, shall we, lovebirds?’ Sonya’s arms were full of Portside Coffeehouse shirts and coffee mugs for the silent auction.
It was obvious she was referring to Cohen and Paige, but Cohen barely looked up from the table he was unfolding. Allison – thank God for her! – ran with the joke to take the limelight off Paige.
‘Sonya, my hunky lovebird isn’t here right now, so do me a favor and don’t rub it in, okay?’ Her sarcasm only made things worse. Not only was it enough to pique Sonya’s interest when it came to Cohen and Paige, but Allison’s attempt at defending Paige’s dignity would undoubtedly confirm to Cohen that she’d confided to Allison about last night’s argument. Which she hadn’t. Kind of. At least, not yet.
The moment of awkwardness that followed only heightened Paige’s anxiety about the entire situation. She was overthinking it, overanalyzing Cohen’s every movement out of the corner of her eye, and downright petrified that Sonya’s appearance was only going to make things worse.
If they could g
et worse.
Allison must have noticed her discomfort because she clapped her hands and made her way into the middle of the room. ‘Okay, troops! We’re a team of four, we’ve got three hundred cupcakes to display, and we’ve only got a couple hours to do it. Game face on, folks. No time for idle chit-chat.’
Which was Allison’s way of saying, Don’t talk about Paige and Cohen, just do your freaking job.
Paige could have hugged the woman. Boldly, she stole a quick glance in Cohen’s direction and saw him let out a long, relieved breath. She would bet her week’s profits that he could have hugged Allison, too. When his eyes met hers and a faint grin tugged at the corners of his lips, she wanted to sigh from relief as well. This was a rocky patch between them, but maybe there was still hope, yet. Cohen’s smile always seemed to evoke that in Paige – hope. She wanted nothing more than for this time to be no different.
Under Allison’s careful – and sometimes overbearing – watch, not one person said a word to Cohen or Paige about, well, anything. If it wasn’t fundraiser related, she wasn’t allowing for it. Paige figured that was the ultimate measure of their friendship; her cousin didn’t have a clue what was bothering Paige when it came to Cohen, and yet she still guarded her like she was harboring Paige’s deepest, darkest secrets. And threatening murder, evidently.
The moment the clock hit the top of the hour, the entire population of Port Landon seemed to awaken from their slumber and pour out of their homes and into the downtown shop. The Cakery was packed within fifteen minutes of opening its doors, and cupcakes began to be boxed up a half dozen at a time.
People oohed and ahhed over the colors and designs, struggling to box their goodies up because they were too busy showing them off. It might have taken days of baking and three solid nights of dishing up frosting, but Paige was over the moon about the town’s reaction to her bite-sized masterpieces.
Cohen kept to himself over the course of the fundraiser, sticking instead close by Bryce as they both manned the silent auction table, handing out pens to those who wanted to place bids. Now and again, Cohen’s melodious laugh met Paige’s ears, and the sound did something to her heart, making her chest constrict tightly. The sight of the smile that accompanied it all but undid her completely.
The Forget-Me-Not Bakery Page 18
