Sweet Days by the Bay

by Kay Correll

  “You promise not to drop them?” He winked at her.

  “Very funny.” She caught herself just before she started to stick her tongue out at him. Very mature, Meredith. Very mature.

  She handed him the paper and he glanced at it, then back at her. “Oh, it’s Merry, like Merry Christmas. Not Mary like… well, the one who had a little lamb.” He grinned at her.

  “Cute. Yes, M-E-R-R-Y.”

  “Must be a nice name during Christmas.”

  He had no idea…

  She just nodded.

  He stashed the slip of paper in his jeans pocket. “Okay, then. I’ll head to the market to get supplies and you’ll have, say, four pies for your sale?”

  “I appreciate it.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgement and headed down the street. She watched his measured strides as he hurried in the direction of the market. Well, that was an unexpected surprise. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all.

  Meredith pushed back a wayward lock of hair and snagged another tray of cookies from the oven. One more batch and she should be finished, although they weren’t as fancy as some of the cookies she’d broken. Her friend Whitney always outdid herself on baking cookies. Unfortunately, two of the boxes she’d smashed had been Whitney’s.

  Her cell phone rang as she balanced the tray of cookies. She snatched the phone off the counter. “Hello?”

  “Merry?”

  She didn’t recognize the number or the voice. “Yes?”

  “Hi, it’s Austin.”

  She set the tray on the cooling rack, luckily without dropping it. “Austin. Hi.”

  “So, this is really last minute…”

  “No, I understand if you can’t do the pies,” she interrupted him.

  “It’s not that. My oven isn’t working. I only moved in a few days ago and hadn’t even turned it on before tonight.”

  “Well, that’s okay.”

  “But I already bought all the ingredients… and I know this is a lot to ask, but could I possibly use your oven?”

  Meredith looked around at the disaster that was her kitchen, mentally calculating how long it would take her to make it presentable. “I… uh…”

  “That’s okay. I just don’t know who else to ask, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

  “No, that’s fine. I’m just finishing up baking the cookies.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She gave him her address. “Can’t miss it. Red front door.”

  She’d given her home address to a perfect stranger? Was she nuts? No, Indigo Bay was a safe little town, right?

  She clicked off the phone and hurried to clean up the chaos so he wouldn’t think she was a hopelessly messy person. Even if she kinda was.

  Chapter 2

  Austin balanced the bags of groceries as he walked up to Merry’s front door. He placed some bags on the porch to free a hand and knocked on the cheerful red door. The red of the door was the only thing that even whispered it was the Christmas season.

  Merry answered, her face flushed, and a swipe of flour adorning her cheek. Her tousled auburn curls framed her rosy face. He’d already filed away the tiny detail that her hair looked brown or reddish, depending on the light. He thought she looked charming.

  “Come in.” She motioned him inside.

  He stepped inside and looked around, slightly surprised to not see even one Christmas decoration in the cottage. There’d been no lights outside, either. For a woman in charge of the Christmas bake sale with a name like Merry, she didn’t seem that into the holiday spirit.

  He followed her to the back of her small cottage and set his groceries on the counter. Trays of cooling cookies covered her table. “You were busy.” There must be ten dozen cookies.

  “Well, once I got started I decided to just double the batches.”

  “Impressive.” He glanced around the cheerful kitchen. White cabinets covered the walls, and a small round table with four chairs rested under a window. A chalkboard sign proclaiming ‘there’s always a happy ending’ hung on the wall.

  Merry saw him looking at the sign. “My friend Whitney gave me that. She’s a hopeless romantic.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not so much.” Merry hung up a dish towel. “So, what can I do to help?”

  “I brought ingredients for apple pie and pecan pie.”

  “Sounds delicious. I never did learn to make a crust that didn’t come out hard as a rock.”

  “I could teach you.”

  “Sure, why not? Just don’t blame me if I ruin your pies.” Her brown eyes twinkled with a you-don’t-know-what-you’re-getting-into look.

  Maybe he didn’t, but he sure wanted to find out.

  Austin moved around like a man comfortable being in a kitchen. He adjusted the temperature on the oven, grabbed some of her mixing bowls and the pie pans he’d brought. “My mom taught me to keep extra pie pans on hand. She was always giving her pies away. Well, when she could keep me out of them.”

  Merry swallowed back a bite of jealousy. Her mother hadn’t ever had a chance to teach her to make pies…

  Austin busied himself peeling and slicing apples. He put them in a big bowl and dusted them with lemon juice and a bit of sugar and cinnamon. “We’ll let those sit while we make up the crusts. I’m a bit of a purest when it comes to crusts. I only make one at a time. I’ve found if I try and double the recipe, it just doesn’t come out right for me.”

  She watched while he made the first crust, surprised he used lard and ice water in his recipe. She asked him questions as he worked with the dough, wondering if she’d ever be able to make a decent crust. After he rolled out the first crust and made up the first apple pie, he deftly sealed the edge in a pretty pattern and cut a quick holly design into the top crust with a few deft flicks of a knife.

  “Okay, your turn.” He nodded at the bowl in front of her.

  He gave her the ingredients while she mixed them together and cut the lard into the flour. He stood behind her, with his arms around her, and helped her roll out a perfectly even piecrust. She tried to concentrate on the crust, and not the fact this man she’d just met practically had her in his arms.

  No he didn’t. That was just silly.

  But her heart insisted on beating in a jagged rhythm.

  She gently folded the crust in half, slid it into the pie pan, and unfolded it again. She did as instructed and put a few pats of butter on the crust, along with a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar. She dumped the remaining apple mixture into the pan and covered it with the top crust.

  She tried to emulate what he’d done to seal his pie. Hers looked like a two-year-old had attacked the edge.

  He laughed. “Here, we can just seal it with a fork. That works, too.”

  “But yours looks prettier with the scalloped edge magic you did with your fingers.”

  “You did a great job for your first attempt.”

  He put the two pies in the oven, then continued on making the pecan pies. Soon her kitchen was filled with the wonderful aromatic potpourri of cookies, apples, cinnamon and toasted pecans.

  He took the remains of the crusts and cut them into strips, buttered them, and sprinkled them with cinnamon sugar. He smiled at her. “We’ll bake these and have ourselves a treat. I call these crispies.”

  She stood back and looked at the disaster that was her kitchen again. He followed her gaze and took charge. “I always clean up my messes.”

  “No, you don’t need to. You’ve done enough.”

  “Okay, we’ll both clean this up and then we’ll sit and enjoy some of the crispies.”

  Austin stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes and handing them to her one by one to dry. She was pretty sure there wasn’t anything sexier than a man doing dishes. His hands brushed hers as he handed her the last bowl.

  She almost dropped it.

  Austin drained the soapy dishwater and dried his hands on a bright kitchen towel. Tonight had been fun. R
eally fun. He hadn’t enjoyed a woman’s company like this in a long time. Messing around in the kitchen, chatting as they worked. He’d really enjoyed himself. He was actually glad his oven was broken, even though he was going to have to pay to get it fixed. A small sacrifice in exchange for an evening with Merry.

  “What would you like to drink with your crispies?” Merry set the plate of tempting cinnamon strips on the table.

  “You a milk drinker? I’d love a glass of milk with them.” He grinned at her. “I guess I’m still a kid at heart. Milk and cookies.”

  “Milk it is.” She poured two glasses, and they sat at her table.

  The warmth of the kitchen surrounded them like his grandmother’s comfortable old quilt. He settled back in his chair and reached for a crispie. His hand brushed Merry’s and he wanted to just leave it there, barely touching her, connecting with her. She smiled at him and just as quickly as her fingers had touched his, they were gone.

  Merry took a tentative bite of the crispie. Her eyes widen. “This is delicious. Who knew you could make such an amazing treat out of leftover piecrust.”

  “Yep, Mom taught me never to waste leftover crust.”

  “She was right. This is delicious.” Merry took a sip of milk. “I might have to have another one.”

  “I won’t count, if you won’t.” He grinned at her.

  He sat back and watched her enjoy the dessert. Her silky hair—looking more brown than red in this light—brushed her shoulders, and her chestnut eyes sparkled in delight. She licked the cinnamon off her fingers and laughed.

  Her laugh was enchanting.

  Her smile was enchanting.

  Just about everything about Merry Snowden enchanted him.

  And he didn’t know what he was going to do about that.

  Chapter 3

  Meredith woke up way too early on Wednesday and filled her car with the last of the baked goods for the sale. She arrived at City Hall right as the mayor was unlocking the door.

  “Thanks, Mayor.”

  “No problem, Meredith. Good luck with the bake sale.”

  She went inside, carefully placed the first load of boxes on a chair, then started setting up the tables for the sale.

  The door to the building swung open again. Who was here so early? Whitney was coming in about an hour to help when the sale started.

  “I’m sorry, the sale hasn’t started yet.”

  “I thought you might want some help.” Austin stood in the doorway with the early morning light filtering around him.

  “Oh. Austin. Morning.” One word sentences. Great.

  “So, could you use some help?”

  “I… yes. That would be great.”

  Austin tackled the folding tables and lined them along one wall. He helped her tape a banner over the front door of City Hall announcing the bake sale was today. Then they made about a hundred trips—she swore it was that many—to her car and back, carting the bake goods inside and setting them up on the tables.

  Whitney walked in later and looked around in surprise. “Hey, Merry, I thought I was the early helper this year.”

  “Whitney, this is Austin. Austin, Whitney.”

  “Nice to meet you, Whitney.”

  “Likewise. And if you’re the person who helped set all this up, you’re my new hero.”

  Austin flashed his boyish smile. “Always wanted to be a hero.”

  Whitney laughed. “So, if we’re all set up, how about I run get us some coffee?”

  “That would be great.” Meredith realized she’d had nothing to eat this morning. She eyed the cookies, but they were profit, not breakfast.

  Meredith half expected Austin to say he’d go with Whitney and pick up the coffee. Whitney was beautiful and charming, and people just automatically loved her. Instead, he turned back to Meredith. “So, what’s next, boss?”

  “You’ve already done so much.”

  “A library in need kind of hits all my buttons. I’d like to help.”

  “If you’re sure, then we need to unpack more boxes and set up a station there at the end for people to pay.”

  By the time Whitney was back with the steaming coffee, the bake sale was officially open. Austin stayed for another hour helping out before finally saying he needed to go.

  “I can’t thank you enough for your help, for baking the pies, for helping with everything.”

  “It was my pleasure. Glad I could help.”

  He turned and started walking away, then wheeled around and strode back to the cookie table. “Any chance you’d have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I… ah… I’d love to.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven? Does that work?”

  “That works.”

  Lucille Sanderson walked up at that very moment, precisely dressed, wearing heels. “They wouldn’t let me bring Princess inside. I just can’t imagine she’d be any trouble.”

  “Princess is Miss Sanderson’s dog,” Meredith explained to Austin. She didn’t add that a person rarely saw Miss Sanderson without Princess in her arms.

  “Yes, poor thing. I’m sure she thinks I’ve deserted her. Anyway, I talked Whitney into watching her while I ran in to get some cookies. Always like to support a good cause.”

  Miss Sanderson eyed Austin standing beside the table. “You new in town?”

  “I am. Just moved here.”

  Miss Sanderson’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I should introduce you to Maggie, my grandniece. She’s a wonderful girl.”

  “Ah, Austin is going out with me.” Meredith blurted out, then felt a blush rush over her face.

  Austin raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, well then. Don’t want to interfere with that.” Lucille didn’t look pleased as she walked away to browse the baked goods.

  Meredith froze in absolute embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “Ah, of course you can take Maggie out. She is a nice girl. Uh, nice woman.”

  “I think maybe…” Austin winked. “You’re about all I can handle right now, ma’am. I’ll see you at seven.” He flashed that charming smile of his and walked away.

  Meredith stood transfixed with what she knew must be a goofy expression and watched as he walked out the door.

  Austin strode out into the crisp December air. He’d been trying to get up his nerve to ask Merry out ever since he wrapped his arms around her and taught her how to roll out the piecrust. She smelled of lavender, and her laugh enchanted him. Granted it was only yesterday he’d met her.

  That wasn’t like him. Not at all. He didn’t date much. First, he’d been too busy in school, struggling to keep his scholarship. His family had moved to Texas, and he’d taken a series of thankless jobs with impossibly long hours after he’d graduated college. Texas hadn’t agreed with him much. He’d missed the sea. Missed Indigo Bay.

  It had taken him years to figure out the corporate rat race wasn’t where he belonged. It had earned him good money and he’d invested that all into a house here. Back where he hoped he’d fit in. Where he hoped he’d feel like he was home.

  But some things had changed. He had no family here any longer.

  But Indigo Bay had called him like a siren with a song too sweet to ignore. So he’d returned.

  Now he had to figure out what he wanted to do with his life.

  But first, he needed to figure out where he was going to take Merry to dinner. Oh, and find out what yet-to-be-unpacked box held nicer clothes than his worn jeans he’d been wearing since he got here.

  He was going on a date.

  A date with the most fascinating woman he’d met in a long time. There was something strange about her. Well, not about her. About how he felt about her. He’d swear he felt some kind of connection with her. Like someone or something had told him to ask her out.

  He was being foolish.

  But still there was this tiny, nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he somehow should know Merry.

  Chapter 4

  Meredith hurried in the door to her cottag
e at six forty-five. She only had fifteen minutes to get ready, and that wasn’t nearly enough. Her hair was flying in fifty directions, and she’d somehow managed to coat her black slacks in powdered sugar and sprinkles from the cookies. She even had a smear of green icing on her top. Lovely.

  She rushed to the bedroom and stood staring into the closet, paralyzed by choices. She didn’t even know where they were going, so how the heck could she decide what to wear?

  The doorbell rang and she glared at her watch. She had ten minutes! She went to answer the door, still a bedraggled mess. Austin stood in the doorway looking like he’d stepped out of some fashion magazine. His brown hair was freshly washed and combed, still a bit damp. He had on khaki slacks and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt was a teal shade that brought out the blue in his eyes. She looked guiltily down at her wrinkled, been-wearing-it-all-day outfit.

  “Uh, come in.” She stepped aside to let him enter. “I’m, um… not quite ready. Can you give me ten minutes?”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m early.” Austin shifted from foot to foot, wearing slip-on leather loafers instead of his cowboy boots.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m just running late. I hate running late. I’ll be ready in a flash, I promise.” She whirled around and headed down the hall, calling back over her shoulder, “Just take a seat. I promise. Ten minutes.”

  She hurried to her closet, pulled out clean black slacks and a white sweater. She hastily touched up her makeup and ran a brush through her hair. When the brush did nothing to tame the mess, she twisted it up in what she hoped was a trendy, carefree knot, and not a messy, just-out-of-bed look.

  She returned to the front room and found Austin leafing through a South Carolina Coastal Life magazine. He looked up when she came into the room and she didn’t miss the appreciative look in his eyes.

  “You look nice.” Austin’s low drawl sent chills up her spine.