She lined up the containers on the other side of the island from where he sat. “Here.” She pushed a plate of cookies his way. “That’ll keep you busy until I’m done.”
She worked around him, more like despite his presence in her space. It was hard to come up with the next question to ask, because she continually muttered to herself and backtracked. The large room had two stainless steel ovens. A windowsill over the sink held plants. They were tall and healthy. He couldn’t place any of the scents, but together they eased the awkwardness holding his limbs stiff.
Another long sigh, a drawer opened and she brought him a cloth napkin. “Sorry, forgot it.”
“Thanks.” Vanilla filled the air around him again. “Uh…”
She seemed to realize his inability to concentrate and her eyes lit with humor. “Where was I?”
“Junior year. Home a lot.”
She tilted her head until the memories washed over her. An emotion flickered on her face, something more poignant than grief, but then it was gone.
“I was the only one with a stable residence. The tribe moved in and well, there were plenty of cravings for sweets that didn’t come in some plastic wrapper. My mother had all these cookbooks. I went through three.” Her tone turned wistful. “Everyone had to go up a dress size. Would have been more if Abigail hadn’t talked me into selling my treats outside the football games, then basketball season started. I fell in love with the noise people make when something is out-of-this-world.”
He turned to see her face. “What sound?”
“You made it.” Her grin was quick and startling and felt like a sucker punch. “Hmmm and the look that says 'you are a goddess.' In that one moment everything goes away.”
“Are you talking about the look you had after tasting my coffee?”
“Probably,” she said and was off again.
She pulled down a skillet from a selection hanging along the ceiling above the expansive island he was settled in front of. It amazed him how disorganized she was in her actions, but each peek into the cabinets let him see things were lined up and in order.
He didn’t quite understand it, but Emmaline never spent more than a few moments searching for something she needed. She had bins and almost every one had a label. Bemused as he watched her, Tobias absently ate another cookie. It tasted of lemon, but it looked like a sugar cookie. It, too, was delicious.
By the time she had whirled like a tornado around the kitchen, the sink was filled with discarded dishes and the oven warmed the large room, saturating the walls in the scent of chocolate and freshly baked cake.
She frowned at the empty plate in front of him. “You don’t have a sensitive stomach do you?”
After his rookie year, only a bubonic stomach flu could deter him. “I’m fine.”
He picked up the plate and took it to the sink. Proverbially rolling up sleeves, he tested the flow of water and began to draw dishwater.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said behind him.
“I don’t have to, no, but I asked for more of your dessert and you’re obliging. It’s the least I could.”
She blew out a breath. “Anyway, as you know I started Sweet Tooth five years ago. I’m currently in the black.” At the end of her statement, he’d already made it through a fourth of the dishes. “Your efficiency intimidates me.”
“A wasted moment is one you can’t get back.” He wiped down a dish. “After seeing you in the kitchen…” He dried his hands on the towel neatly folded on the edge of the sink. “Tasting your food. Seeing your friends. I still can’t understand what you did last night.”
Her back was to him as she stirred caramel in a large pot. “Do you love your brother?” she asked over her shoulder.
He straightened; the question surprised him. “Yes.”
“Will you do anything to make him happy?”
He quit his job so that he’d actually be alive long enough to see his brother grow up. “Yes.”
She smiled. “Even if that means running down the street naked?”
Tobias doubted a situation would ever come up where being in the buff would be required to make his brother happy. But he understood. “I see your point.”
More pieces of her began to fit together. He sighed with annoyance and finished the rest of the dishes. A puzzle was why he’d been drawn to investigation. He wanted to know all her pieces and how they fit and that explained the tug in his gut when it came to Emmaline.
He pushed off the edge of the sink’s counter and went back to the barstool. If she hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes getting ready to serve him another Late Night, Tobias would have asked for a rain check and gotten out of there.
Her scent crept up on him, soft and tempting. The thoughts he suppressed filled his mind. Supple thighs. Silken skin. Emmaline came into his view, fully clothed. Thank God.
“Are you going to tell me your story? Fair play and all.” She blushed at the unspoken implications.
He reached up and rubbed a thumb over her heated cheek. His hand froze. The intimate touch crossed a line. Tobias drew back his hand. At her shaky release of breath, he silently cursed at himself.
“I quit my last job.” He wasted no emotion on the words. “I put together a business plan, scared up some silent partners, opened the first Caff-aholic, and then Josh was accepted here.”
Gabriella. His lover. The face of his former partner kept battering at the wall he put up. “The money they gave me and what I made is enough to keep me afloat for two years.” He shut down the memories with another breath. “Your friend, Abigail, I’ll probably need her services. I plan to go up to the college and leave some fliers, but that’s all I have so far. I was well known in Heron. Word of mouth is God.”
“It is, but res ipsa loquitur. Your coffee, definitely, speaks for itself.”
Digging in his back pocket for his wallet, Tobias pulled out a business card. Clumsy fingers stumbled over the cheap paper. He should have taken the cards out a year ago. He wasn’t a homicide detective anymore. She wasn’t a witness or a victim’s family member. He flipped the card around.
“Do you have a pen?”
She went to another drawer, rummaged around and then was back. He took the pen and wrote down his cell phone number.
She stuffed the card into the apron’s pocket, but didn’t step away. “I’ll give it to her.”
Tobias took in her scent, her demeanor and still couldn’t pin her down. “What do you have to gain by this?
“My first impression of you is from the e-mails. Tina and George were warm but professional. You know what you’re doing and you know what you want. Your coffee was unbelievably good, and that takes passion. I need more exposure and you’re offering it. Despite the circumstances, you helped me when you didn’t even know who I was. We’re meeting each other half-way here, for both of our benefits.”
The simple answer told him more about the woman than she could have known. Sitting there watching her open face and wide, innocent eyes, he felt more tainted by his past than ever before. Once again, he had to push down the urge to stalk out of the bakery, throwing a quick ‘forget it’ over his shoulder.
She picked up a container off the island and went to the stove. He watched, and saw her hand was steady as she drizzled both the caramel and raspberry topping. She hung the oven mitt on a handle next to a pantry door.
“I packed up enough Late Night so you can take some home to Josh.” She handed him the warm container. “Put together a proposal. I’ll have an attorney look it over and we’ll go from there.”
Tobias settled on, “Ok,” though he wanted to say more.
*****
The sudden dinging of the bell over the door made Emma’s hand jerk. Half the platter of éclairs dropped to the floor. She cursed under her breath. All morning, anxiety and hope screwed up her normal resolve. She’d been hoping the store would suddenly be filled with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.
A quick glance over the edg
e of the glass counter made Emma deflate. She stepped over the pile of desserts that had turned to a pile of cherry goop. The syrup smeared across the front of her apron.
“I brought you the HR papers for Josh,” Abigail said. “You’ll have to white out the company name, but they’re good to go. The same procedure as before.” Abigail lifted on tiptoes to peer over the counter. She winced at the mess on the floor. “That’s a waste.”
“You startled me. Thanks.” She wiggled her fingers, covered with cherry syrup. “Put it on the counter. I’ll get to them once I clean up.”
“What’s wrong?”
Emma washed her hands at the sink behind the counter and was glad Abigail couldn’t see the lie forming on her lips. “Nothing. Tobias wants you to help him with some advertising.”
After drying her hands, she dug into the front pocket of the apron and handed over the business card.
Abigail’s brows rose. “Homicide. Interesting.”
Maybe it could have been interesting if Emma hadn’t seen the haunted look in Tobias’ eyes when he stated the fact. The look didn’t excuse his initial blunt reaction, but now it made sense. What all had he seen? How many times did he have to tell a family their loved one wasn’t coming back? He must have thought Emma incredibly stupid to put herself at risk for no reason.
“So?” her friend asked.
Emma snorted out a laugh. “I know you’re expecting details of how we had sex on the island in my kitchen. Sorry there’s nothing to tell. The man is exactly what he seems. Straightforward, focused and not the kind of man who would take me on the island in my kitchen. Anyone’s kitchen for that matter. I should have a business proposal no later than the end of the week and probably a design for the display.”
“Honey, I know men. He’s the still-water type, but I’m telling you once you’ve plunged there’s a world…” Abigail made a lewd noise.
A customer walked in on the noise and looked between the two women. “Welcome to Sweet Tooth,” Emma said, not missing a step. “How may I help you?”
She glared at Abigail who had the good sense to meander around the display cases. Silent. Her friend let out a laugh once the customer left.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s a wonder I get any customers with you and Sasha.”
“Because you’re a baking goddess. So, what are you going to do?”
“Abigail,” Emma gestured to the empty space between them, “meet the dead horse you’ll be beating.” She waited a moment and her friend didn’t reply. Emma sighed. “Watch the counter for me.”
“No prob.”
She untied the dirty apron and headed to the small bathroom. On her way back to the front of the store, she grabbed a broom, dustpan and mop. The bell dinged, and the sound of a deep, familiar timbre stilled her steps.
Taking in a deep breath, she walked forward, closer to where Tobias stood soldier-straight by the door. Eyes as serious as death, he did one of those stuck in his chest kind of laughs. She wondered what it would take for him to let loose. Me naked, came to mind. Letting himself be a man for one moment in his life didn’t count.
She shook her head at the musing. Abigail kept chatting him up about being an ad exec, which probably wouldn’t sell him on her shark-like abilities. But, when Emma really looked at him she could see Tobias was taking Abigail seriously. Then again he seemed to take everything seriously.
She stepped into view and Tobias’ gaze zeroed in on her. His midnight eyes had enough sizzle to cook a raw egg. Emma’s heart pitched forward and went off to the races, thudding fast in her chest. Maybe she had managed to plunge under those still waters.
“Hey.” She kept the tremble of nerves out of her voice.
He lifted a hand, full of papers. “Put together the proposal and an agreement.”
“That was quick. You can put it on the counter.” She lifted the mop and broom. “I can get my attorney to look it over. Don’t know when he’ll have a free moment—”
“He’ll have one,” Abigail interjected and then pursed her lips. “You know, my lunch hour is almost over. I’ll put something together for you, Tobias.” She lifted the card Emma had given to her earlier. “Give you a call.”
Could Abigail be any more obvious? Wait. Of course she could. Her friend could start wearing a shirt that had the words Hump Him. Yes, HIM. The idea wasn’t so far-fetched Emma wouldn’t dare joke about it. A blush rose to her cheeks. Ducking behind the counter, she cleaned up the mess. The bell above the door dinged again, and she let out a relieved breath.
With all the goop on the dustpan, she stood. Tobias loomed over the counter watching her. She jerked back and the mangled mush of éclairs threatened to upend. Tobias lurched forward and grabbed the dustpan with both hands.
“I’m going to assume,” he grinned, taking her breath with the way his face lit up, “I scared you.”
“Yes.” It came out as a laugh. How could she not with him grinning like that?
“I wondered where you went.”
“You could have made a noise.” She went to put a hand over her heart, but stopped short, remembering the goop.
“Trash?”
She reached forward and said, “You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to.”
“Over by the tables.” She attacked the floor with the mop until all the red disappeared. Thankfully, he wasn’t watching her, but was frowning down at the pie section.
“Dustpan?” she asked, and he brought it to her.
“You give your food interesting nicknames.”
“Started in college. I’d make something Sasha or Abigail would say Finger Lickin’ Pie or OMG Chocolate Chips.” She shrugged. “Traditions are hard to break. Sasha makes the placards.”
He nodded his head slowly as though he was just realizing something. “You’re close to your friends.”
It wasn’t a question so she didn’t feel the need to answer it. “Was there something else you needed from me?”
“I see you’ve put out the cookies I had last night. I could use two, no, six. Josh’s covering for me.”
“Does he eat you out of house and home?”
The laugh burst out of him, and the sound of it seeped into every cell of her body. How could she have thought this man didn’t have charm? It was there in his smile and laugh.
“Imagine me at work,” he said. “All day thinking about the last piece of lasagna or whatever. I can see myself heating it up and taking the first bite. Then I get home and can’t find it anywhere because Josh has already hoovered it up. This scenario is a regular occurrence in my house.” This time the laugh was deep in his chest again.
She didn’t have to ask if he loved his brother. The light in his eyes spoke volumes. “Let me wash my hands and I’ll get them for you.”
Emma took the time to pull herself together. This wasn’t the type of man to fantasize about after one full-bodied laugh. Her friends may think she was conservative and it would make sense for her to be attracted to a man who fell into the same category, but Emma wanted one of those fun men. Men who didn’t mete out laughs like they were rationed commodities. A man who wouldn’t only understand the immature dares she did to make her friends happy, but one who would contribute ideas.
Tobias, a man who had a black tee shirt fetish, did not fit into the fantasy. Keeping it all business between them wouldn’t be a problem. Discounting the kiss, Tobias was a little rigid.
The description reminded Emma of her ex-boyfriend, Sean. Being with him had taught her a life-changing lesson. With him, she’d seen the dapper and serious man and thought he’d turn fun. Isn’t that what happened when you fell in love? The man in the three-piece suit who worked, worked, worked would take an afternoon off to dance in the park and sing in the rain.
She’d loved the man Sean could be, not the one he was. On the flip side, Sean never looked past her reliability and steadfast manner. He was completely baffled by the side of her that willingly participate
d in the dares. He crushed her heart and life crushed her soul. Only for a little while because after that she had refused to let it. In the end, they’d both been criminally young, and there were light years between that girl who loved Sean and the woman she was now.
May have been glass between them, but there was just as much distance between Tobias and herself. The conclusion eased the expectant tension in her body. “How are things going?”
“Smooth.” He had his thumbs stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He drummed his fingers along his thighs. “I’ve been up to twelve people sitting at one time. Three were writers. I’m thinking I should charge them a fee.”
Emma’s eyes widened with horror at the bloodthirsty tactics, until she noticed the light in his eyes again. Blanking her face, she said, “Charge them by the hour, not the words.”
She added some Raspberry Swirls and Caramel Drops to the cookies. At the cash register, she handed the box to him without ringing it up.
“How much?” he asked.
“I don’t have to charge you.” Then she remembered. “I need to get your coat back to you.”
“That’s…fine. Get it to me when you can.” He lifted the box. “Thanks. And don’t go easy on my brother. Make him earn his keep.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m paying him.”
“Emmaline,” he paused and his gaze raked her from head to toe, leaving a trail of heat behind. “You didn’t even check his ID when you hired him. What are his duties?”
He had to stop saying her full name. Her heart refused to settle back into a normal pace when he did. “What does that even mean? You didn’t check his ID,” she mimicked his dour tone. “People hire all the time without checking someone’s ID first.”
“It means you had no intention of hiring an assistant. He looked at you with sad eyes and you caved.”
“You say it like it’s a personality flaw.” She threw up a hand in exasperation.
“Not my intention. It’s an observation.” He seemed to consider something and a ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, then it flattened. “You’re a marshmallow.”
“I am not.” Indignation filled her tone.
Double Dare Page 5
