by Marina Adair
White bun, black biker’s jacket, coral lipstick.
“Is that Fi?” Kennedy whispered.
“Was the second one through the door. She ordered a slice of traditional apple, but she paid for it.” Paula sent Kennedy a sideways smile. “You know what this means.”
“That Fi is starting to come around?”
Paula snorted and waved a dismissive hand. “That you’re popular. Somehow overnight this became the spot. And if it’s the spot for the bingo team, then it could become the spot for a lot of other organizations in town.”
“It could even become the breakfast spot,” Kennedy said, knowing that smaller items like muffins and pastries had a low cost and high margin. It was as if, here in Destiny Bay, the possibilities were endless.
Kennedy still wasn’t sure if she believed in destiny, but she couldn’t help thinking that this was what coming home felt like. At least that’s what her heart said.
Chapter 15
At exactly three minutes to seven, Kennedy locked up her shop and stepped out into the crisp autumn night. A cool breeze filled her lungs, and sent leaves from the nearby maple trees fluttering down the brick sidewalks, painting Main Street in a fire-colored snowfall.
Kennedy listened to them crunch under her boots as she crossed the street, feeling a deep sense of pride when she saw the banner advertising the Gold Tin Apple Pie Competition. Fi and Paula had made the HumDinger a national champ, and Kennedy was going to make it a household name.
Smoothing her hair, Kennedy tugged her skirt down and pushed through the massive wooden door of the Penalty Box, not looking for its co-owner, not thinking about him, and not stopping until she reached her awaiting party in the back.
Tonight was about her business, her success.
Holding up two unmistakable red boxes, she smiled. “I brought pie.”
Cosmo, hat already hanging on the hook over the booth, stood. “Miss. Sinclair,” he said in greeting, gesturing for her to take a seat, which she did.
He was dressed in a soft gray suit with a yellow bow tie and suspenders. His hat was a straw boat hat, and he was drinking a cold cider. Kennedy had always wanted to meet with a dashing silver fox who did business deals in back booths of bars.
“This is a mix of pies.” She set one box on the table, and then the other. “And I even saved you a HumDinger, just don’t tell anyone since we technically sold out before lunch.”
Kennedy smiled at that news, selling out in such a short amount of time. But Cosmo shifted in his seat at the information.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, lifting his hands to wave over the bartender—which could or could not be Luke. Not wanting to see him right then, she said, “I’m fine.” And in case he persisted, which a silver fox like Cosmo would, she added, “I’m too excited about our meeting to drink. Maybe after the contract is finalized, we can celebrate with something fun.”
Cosmo rested his hands on the table, his serious nature making something ping deep in Kennedy’s chest. She knew the feeling well, but refused to acknowledge it. Even when Cosmo released a sigh that always preceded bad news.
Kennedy had had enough bad news in her life to know the signs. But this was Destiny Bay, a town swimming in possibilities, so his look of discomfort must be brought on by heartburn.
“As soon as I received your signed contract, I sent it straightaway to my legal team,” Cosmo said, and Kennedy sat up straighter.
“Your legal team,” she beamed. It sounded so professional. And final.
“There were some concerns about advertising the pies as a Gold Tin winner,” he said.
“Oh,” Kennedy said, knowing that was a real concern with a simple answer. “I can assure you that Fi has licensed the exclusive rights to use her pie recipes, but Paula agreed to sell me the exact apple varieties they used when creating the pies. It is the same pie you and everyone here in Destiny Bay fell in love with.”
“But you’re not Fi,” Cosmo said, and Kennedy laughed.
“Nope, just Kennedy Sinclair, newest owner of Sweetie Pies.”
“And that’s where the concern comes,” Cosmo said softly. “In order to sell your pies at the price point we agreed upon, they need that extra something, which is where the title came in. But you have never personally made one of the Gold Tin winners, so unless Fi agrees to bake the pies every day, legal is concerned that we can’t truthfully say they are the same Gold Tin–winning pies.”
“But the HumDinger is entered in the contest,” she said. “So by next week it will be my pie.”
Cosmo seemed relieved by this. “I didn’t know you had entered. If you win, that solves everything.” Kennedy felt the same relief and almost told him she’d take that drink now, when he added, “When I saw the HumDinger entered under Fi’s name, I assumed she was going it alone again.”
Kennedy swallowed. “Fi usually enters on her own? I thought she entered for the shop.”
It was the whole reason Kennedy didn’t enter. She didn’t want to put one of her pies up against their biggest seller. No sense in competing with yourself.
Cosmo shook his head. “No, Fi has always entered on her own. Does she have the rights still to enter that pie since you bought the recipe?”
Kennedy grimaced. “I actually bought the commercial rights to all of the recipes, so Fi can’t sell the pies, but she can make them for her family and personal use.”
“Since she’s not selling the pie, but entering it in a hometown competition, she isn’t in breach of contract,” Cosmo said.
“But if she entered it before, then how was legal going to handle it if she’d ever agreed?”
“It was her pie and her shop, so it didn’t matter. But if she is no longer part owner of the shop, then Sweetie Pies technically won’t be the winner. And this contract would be between Kline Fine Foods and Sweetie Pies.”
“Which means you couldn’t claim the title even if she wins.”
“I am afraid not,” Cosmo said, and Kennedy felt those words hit her squarely in her chest. “And the only way my team would feel comfortable moving forward is if the contract is made with the actual title holder, which would be Fi.”
A contract they both knew would never happen.
* * *
Luke was as adept at reading nonverbal cues as he was at knowing when a company was out of options. It was what made him such an effective corporate developer.
And this deal was out of options. No question about it.
Even though it wasn’t his deal, Luke felt the same burning frustration in his chest that followed a devastating loss. But this time it was accompanied by guilt and a tractor-trailer full of shame.
Not that his deal was out of the woods, not by a long shot. In fact, the look of devastation on Kennedy’s face said that his option pool had doubled. But the expected rush that came with knowing the last piece had fallen into place never came.
Luke wanted this deal with Rogers to pan out, needed to buy back Bay View Orchards for his mom, but getting it like this didn’t feel right.
Because everything in Kennedy’s world was going incredibly wrong. And even though she had more than enough reasons to give up, she held strong, even comforting Cosmo as he delivered the fatal blow. She wasn’t pointing blame, demanding to know what happened, she just nodded compassionately—understandingly—and gave Cosmo a hug good-bye. Then waited until she was alone in the booth to absorb the hit.
Like she’d been expecting it all along.
And why not? He’d told her exactly what would happen. Was pretty sure his offhand remark had been part of the force that took her down.
Only it hadn’t been offhand, which he could maybe forgive. Luke had made a strategic play that was fueled by emotion when he’d opened his mouth. He was hurt that Kennedy hadn’t said a word about Cosmo, especially after he’d opened up to her that morning. He was also determined to prove to Hawk that he wasn’t going to let him down. So he said the one thing that would give Cosmo pause, force him to
reconsider.
Now Kennedy, who had moments ago looked ready for the biggest moment of her professional life, was staring at the table, looking so damn tired and small, he knew he should turn back around and walk away. The last person she’d want to see was him.
Not to mention, Hawk was going over the offer Walter had given them, which was too pricey to make sense, and Luke needed to focus. Not that he doubted Hawk would offer up the money, but it was a bad deal all around, and the one thing Walter had been right about was that there was a lot riding on how the next few weeks played out. For everyone involved.
The smart thing would be to keep his mind on the goal and eyes off the composed way Kennedy held herself even though he knew she was falling apart inside.
Which was why Luke found himself walking toward the table, ready to absorb her anger and find a way to fix everything. Because that’s what good guys did, and Kennedy deserved to see that side of him as much as anyone else in his life.
“Hey there,” he said softly, sliding into the booth next to her. “You look like you could use a drink.”
She glanced his way, and the second those baby blues locked on his, all the drama about apples, Bay View Orchards, and the deal with Rogers faded into the background until there was just the two of them. And the reality of what he’d done.
To her.
“I finished Cosmo’s cider.” She touched the rim of the empty glass. “I’m good.”
She was so far from good, it broke his heart. “How about a friend then?”
“Are you? My friend?” she asked.
He didn’t know what they were and friends didn’t seem the right word, but it was a safe place to start. “I’d like to be.”
His words seemed to hit a sore spot. Probably the one that had just been ripped open when he sold her out to Cosmo. He wouldn’t be surprised if she told him to fuck off, and wasn’t that a damn shame. Kennedy was one of the most giving people he’d ever met, but people always just seemed to take from her. Including him.
She studied him, long and thorough, as if looking for something that could make her change her mind. And God, he hoped she found it because he didn’t want to be just her friend; he wanted to be the one guy who didn’t let her down, leaving her stranded and alone in the middle of the shit storm he’d brought on.
With a sad smile, she whispered, “I missed you this week,” then rested her head on his shoulder and cuddled close.
That was it. No yelling, no blame, just five sweet words and a gesture that changed everything. Had every protective instinct rearing up to save her from the disappointments of the world—including him.
It was clear that she had not a clue as to his role in her current situation and, as Luke slid his arm around her, that he’d missed the hell out of her, too. Which left him with two options: Fix this mess, or she’d lose her shop—and he’d lose a friend.
“I thought about calling,” he admitted. “But once I landed in Chicago, things didn’t go as expected, and well…” He stopped, mid-bitch. Because when had he become an excuse guy? “I should have called. To say I had a great time last weekend, which I did, then to apologize for disappearing.”
“That’s okay, life happens.” She gave a little shrug, then pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. “It was kind of crazy here, too, as you saw.” She nodded at the empty glass. “Cosmo wanted to sell Sweetie Pies in his supermarkets.”
Truth time. Luke tilted her face until she was looking up at him. “Cosmo told me the other night. Said he was excited about the possibility of working with you.”
“Oh.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Well, the excitement was short lived.”
“I was surprised when he told me, because I had just seen you that morning.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said as if he shouldn’t be on his knees begging her for forgiveness. “I didn’t tell anyone. I thought if I did, it would make it real, and then if it fell through, it would hurt so much more.” She looked up and the tears lining her lashes made his chest constrict until it burned. “It doesn’t, though. Make it worse. I don’t think it could hurt worse than this. I was so close and everything just fell apart.”
She shrugged and sat back, and Luke wanted to pull her into his lap. Tell her he’d fix everything and she didn’t have to worry, but she straightened and cleared her throat.
“Your mom and Aunt Fi found out,” she added. “I guess I’ll have to explain that Cosmo wants to work with the Gold Tin winner, and that although he loves the pies, he needs a winner to command the higher price point.”
Luke wanted to punch himself, because what she was really saying was that she wasn’t a winner. That Cosmo didn’t need her, because on her own she wasn’t enough.
“I am so sorry, Kennedy.” Luke tucked a stray hair behind her ear. All Kennedy wanted was to start over, share her recipes and a piece of herself with people, and make a life here in Destiny Bay. And he had complicated that for her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you know of someone who wants to give up their spot in the competition to an outsider,” she said to the floor. He heard a little sniffle and shit. She was crying.
And Luke found himself in a place he’d promised himself never to be again, standing between two things he cared for, and having to choose. Last time it was between his family and his freedom—and he’d chosen wrong.
Maybe this was his chance to get it right. Walter hadn’t refused their offer; he’d just countered it with a ridiculous one. So Luke still had options. Kennedy had none, and how he chose to move forward from here would determine the kind of man he truly was.
He looked at Kennedy, really looked at her, and that ache in his chest, the one that started the day his dad died and expanded when he lost the house, disappeared the moment those baby blue eyes locked with his. He knew the kind of man he wanted to be.
“I can do you one better.” He fished his cell out of his pocket and scrolled though his contacts, found who he was looking for, and hit Call.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He held up a finger while it rang. Then the phone picked up. “Hey, Sally, this is Luke Callahan from Two Bad Apples. Sorry to call so late, but I was wondering if you could make room for one more entrant. She is the new owner of Sweetie Pies, and new to the area.”
He listened to Sally on the other end, then said, “That’s great. I owe you.” He disconnected and pocketed his phone.
“Who was that?” Kennedy asked, and the cautious hope he saw swimming in her expression tugged something deep down. “Sally Miller is the Gold Tin coordinator and a good friend of my mom’s,” he said. “Her husband owns a sports bar in Tacoma, and was Two Bad Apples’ first customer.”
There went the misty eyes he was trying so hard to avoid. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. And she said that even though the entry period has passed, she could make room for one more. Especially a local.”
Something about that last word had her sliding her arms around his neck, and holding on. He held her back, and damn, it was the first time in a week that he’d felt whole.
They sat just like that, holding each other in the back booth of a sports bar, with the game on the big screen and Johnny Cash coming through the speakers, for a good while.
“Thank you,” she finally whispered.
“Now, all you have to do is win,” he said to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.
She sat back, her hands coming to cover her mouth, which was gaping open. “Oh my God. I have to win.”
“You’ve got this,” he said truthfully. She was an amazing baker, and if she played to her talents, instead of trying to play to everyone else, she could win this thing. And he would never see those apples again.
A problem he’d worry about later.
“I have to win, Luke. With a recipe of my own. While going up against the sixteen-time champion.”
“Sixteen times means she comfo
rtable, secure,” he said, cupping her face. “When people get comfortable, they make room for someone with the determination and drive to move right in.”
“How am I supposed to sneak past Fi Callahan?” Kennedy asked. “The woman has eyes in the back of her head. The second she sees me coming, she’ll take me out at the knees with her rolling pin. She might be old as dirt, but she’s got a good swing, fast and accurate.”
“People with talent don’t sneak, they put it out there.” He took her hand. “Put yourself in that pie, Kennedy, and people will love it.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” she said. “Especially when she’s got access to the same apples as I do.”
“Lucky for you, I know this guy, and he’s kind of a local expert on all the varieties of apples.”
She flashed a smile that lit him up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He took her hand and threaded their fingers. “Heard he’s a real badass, too. Sexy and charming. I could give him a call if you want.”
“I want.”
He could only hope that in the end she was still saying the same thing.
Chapter 16
Kennedy stood at the top of the bluff at Bay View Orchards, staring down at the crashing waves below. A chill blew off the rough waters, chapping her face and sending a little shiver over her skin. “I can see clear across the bay to the little islands out there.”
“It’s actually just a few rocks that the harbor seals use as a playground,” Luke said, coming up behind her. She could feel the heat of his body seep through her clothes.
She turned her head to look at him, caught by the beauty of the dozens of acres of gently rolling orchards covered in a kaleidoscope of apples and bright green leaves. The scent of fresh-cut grass and ripened fruit permeated the sea air as gulls caught the wind in the early evening breeze.
“On a clear day you can see the whales off the coastline heading north.” While her gaze tracked, he slid an arm around her waist, effortlessly pulling her back to his front, and warming her from the inside out.
