“I’d be glad to stay,” Mrs. Wilcox offered, “but the mister gets testy when I’m not there to fix his supper. I could come back….”
“No, I’ll finish up. Here.” She handed the older lady a box of misshapen fudgeballs. “Take these to Mr. Wilcox.”
“Oh, he’ll love it!” The woman beamed and sampled a couple.
“Have a nice evening, Mrs. Wilcox. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jenny locked the door, then turned to look at the copper kettle. She was beginning to hate that thing.
Hours later, her aching back told her it was late—later than she realized. She moaned when she glanced at the clock and saw it was two in the morning. Leaving the last batch to cool, she walked to the front window and glanced out. The full moon bathed the deserted streets in mellow light. She rubbed her tight shoulders. A Kasada backrub would feel good about now. A Kasada anything would feel good.
Light filtered from the kite shop onto the front walk, and she wondered what was going on. Of course, he was packing. She stepped out the door, leaving it ajar for fresh air. She smiled at the poodle sleeping soundly on her cushion. She was reluctant to leave her out so late, but Princess couldn’t stay in the store.
She cupped her hands to her eyes and peeked into the kite shop window. Dave was behind the counter, bent over his workbench, Jake at his feet
When she opened the door and stepped inside, Jake flew past her. “I’m sorry. Jake?”
“He won’t go anywhere, and I hope Dogcatcher Harris is sleeping right now.”
She laughed and walked closer. “You have a big order for the White House, too?”
He chuckled softly. “I haven’t heard from Clinton in—oh, days. Obviously, he doesn’t like kites as well as he likes fudge.”
Leaning on the counter, she propped her chin on her hands and stared at him. There wasn’t a sign of a packed box or crate around. Men. “What are you doing here so late?”
He kept his eyes on the kite he was stringing. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m worried about Megan.”
His eyes looked more than tired. They looked incredibly sad. Was he worried about more than his daughter? “Dave, I should have stopped by earlier. You must have been concerned when you heard about the pregnancy test.”
“Oh, that. No, I wasn’t concerned. Just surprised.”
Yes, he was surprised, she remembered. “Well, you can rest. I told you over the phone, I’m not pregnant.”
His gaze rose to meet hers, his brows knitted.
Her laugh came out a nervous twitter. “You act as if you’re disappointed. I thought you’d be happy—ecstatically so.”
Turning to his kite, he shook his head, “Don’t be silly. Of course, I’m happy. Aren’t you happy?”
“Sure, same as you. A baby would complicate my life right now.”
“Yeah, they can do that.”
She averted her head as tears sprang to her eyes. What was wrong with her? Twice today, she’d had to stop and have a good cry. She should be immensely relieved. Instead she felt disappointed and empty. This morning her period had started. Had she waited another day, she wouldn’t have had to take the pregnancy test. All it did was spread gossip about her around town and alarm Dave unnecessarily.
She sniffed into a tissue. “I have to go—have to finish up the White House order.” As she turned to leave, he reached out and took her by the shoulder.
“Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? No, what could be wrong?” She sniffed again, and he turned her to face him. His features softened, and his gaze caressed her. She wanted to dissolve into his arms and sob her heart out. “I—I’m sorry—I’ve been an emotional wreck all day.”
He tipped her chin with the crook of his finger. “Anything I can do to help?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t have anything to cry about. I guess I’m just tired.”
He stepped away, and she felt suddenly abandoned. “You work too hard.”
“Is there any other way to work?”
He laughed and picked up the kite he was working on. “What do you think? It’s my new design.”
She studied it, blew her nose, then said, “It’s great. What are you calling it?”
“Sky Walker.”
She nodded, then hung her head. “Oh, Dave, I’m sorry. Lately, I’ve been so…so—I can’t even explain.”
He put the kite down and returned to her side, draping his arm around her shoulder. “You know what? I think we miss Dory. I know I do.”
She leaned into him. He smelled like Irish Spring soap. “I can still hear her squeals when she would see me in the morning—”
“And that silly little giggle when I’d tickle her belly.”
Just thinking about it made Jenny smile. “I hope she’s all right. I thought Rob would write.” Her merriment trickled to a smile, then sadness overtook her. Her hand slid to her stomach. No baby. “I have to get back to work.” She pulled away and walked toward the door.
“Yeah, I think I’ll call it a night—or morning, or whatever.”
He disappeared into the back room, and she let herself out. Thirty more minutes and she could drop into bed, exhausted.
She let out a scream as she walked into the store and saw Jake and Princess standing in the middle of the table of cooling fudgeballs, knocking them on to the floor, clearly in the midst of a fun new game. Her gaze flew to a nearby chair that was tipped over. Likely they’d used it to reach the table.
Furious, she grabbed Princess and without thinking paddled her behind. “You have never misbehaved in your life! What’s gotten into you?” Whirling on Jake, she yelled, “You! Get off this table!” She smacked him with a flyswatter. “You’re teaching Princess bad habits—you’ve ruined the President’s balls!”
She couldn’t believe she said that.
“Fudgeballs!” she amended, screeching.
The dogs flew to the back room, yelping.
She could hear Dave whistling for his dog. “Here, Jake.” Whistle, whistle. “Where are you, boy?”
Boy? She fumed. Boy had just demolished the White House fudge! It would take another six hours to cook, cool and pack twenty-six dozen.
The door of the fudge shop opened, and Dave stuck his head in. “Jenny, have you seen—”
Jake came boiling out of the back, Princess on his heels. Both dogs were yapping at the top of their lungs.
“Jake!” he bellowed, holding Princess’s broken collar in his hand. “I had a feeling he might be here when I found this.” He held out what was left of the pink rhinestone-studded collar.
“Too bad he didn’t run to China!” she shouted, making no attempt to cover her disgust.
His gaze took in the carnage, and he frowned. “What happened?”
Too furious to speak, she could only point at the table of smashed, half-eaten fudgeballs. Finding her voice, she spoke through gritted teeth. “Get your dog out of my sight before I string him up by his hind legs! He’s ruined my candy and involved Princess in his recklessness.”
Dave stiffened. “Now wait a minute. Princess was in on this, too, wasn’t she?”
“Jake was the ringleader!” Jenny shrieked. “That’s a White House order! He’s just ruined a huge account! I’ll have to stay up the rest of the night to make new ones. The fudgeballs have to be on the morning flight to Washington!”
“It’s not the end of the world.” Dave studied the gooey carnage. “Call Bill and tell him two dogs ate his fudge—” His hand shot up. “Don’t throw that spoon at me.” Frowning, he reached for an apron. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll help.”
“I’m in no mood for corny jokes. Go home.” She snatched an apron off a peg and wrapped it around her waist “When are you moving?” she grumbled. She was tired, out of sorts and weepy. An already rotten day had just been topped off with this. “I’ve had it with your dog—”
“What?”
She refused to look at him. “I said when are you moving?”
“Wait a minute.” He put a spoon down. “What do you mean, when am I moving? You’ve got it backward, haven’t you? I’m not moving—you’re moving, to Mackinac City.”
She whirled. “No, you’re moving to Mackinac City. I’m moving into your space.” There. She’d said it, and he knew. It was out, and she was relieved.
He advanced on her, his eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You think you’re moving into my space—the kite shop?”
She lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“Are you nuts? What about Loyal? The lease?”
“What about Loyal and the lease? That’s your problem. I’ve made all the arrangements for you.”
“You what?”
Was he hard of hearing? “I looked at the new space with you. You wanted my approval, I gave it. You were too busy to call Loyal and asked me to do it. I called Loyal, and he wanted to know about the lease, I told you, you said you’d call him—”
“I did call him—to set up your lease! I even sent him the damn money as a favor to you. I thought you were having financial troubles!”
“Me? I’m not having financial troubles—or I wasn’t until now!” The implication of his words was beginning to sink in. There had been a colossal misunderstanding. Sickness washed over her. She wasn’t going to move her store. She didn’t have the money to move. “My loan is only for the expansion in the building I occupy. It’s not enough to cover the Mackinac City property.”
“Where in the hell did you ever get the idea you could take over my floor space?”
She stiffened. “Hank Linstrom told me I could have it, that you didn’t have a lease.”
He held his hand up to stop her. “Hank Linstrom is no longer employed by Rockfield.”
She lifted her chin. “How do you know so much about Mr. Linstrom?”
“I’m the one who fired him, damn it.”
“You?” This was nuts! She hated arguments—especially when she didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.
He crossed his arms arrogantly. “I own Rockfield.”
It took a moment for the information to soak in. When it did, she knew her moving into the kite shop space was a moot point. She felt confused, stunned, disappointed, but mostly angry and hurt. “Why didn’t Mr. Linstrom tell me you owned… More importantly, why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never came up.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I know you’re upset, I should have told you, but when you started making arrangements to move out—or at least I thought you were—I didn’t see the need.”
“Didn’t see the need?” Her anger rocketed.
“Look, Jenny, I know you’re hurt. This is all a crazy misunderstanding, but we can work it out. I can loan you the money to move to Mackinac City—”
“You know what you can do with your money, Dave Kasada. I don’t want your money, your excuses, your dog, and most of all, I don’t want you! Now get out!” She shoved him toward the door.
“Dammit, be reasonable! We’re adults, we can work this—”
“Forget it.” She’d had enough for one day. She’d had enough for a lifetime!
She slammed the door shut, then immediately opened it again.
“And that goes for your dog, too!”
9
JAKE HUDDLED DEEPER into the folds of his skin. “If it wasn’t for your sweet tooth, we wouldn’t be in this trouble. I get blamed for everything.”
“I don’t understand,” Princess fretted. “I just can’t get enough candy lately. I never liked it before. And you know what else?”
Jake yawned and smacked his lips. “There’s more?”
“I have this craving for a big…T-bone.”
The bone. She’s not getting the bone. She can wag that tail as fast as she wants. She’s not getting the bone. “Yeah? You look different. You puttin’ on weight?”
Princess burst into tears, whining, “Just a few weeks ago, you told me I had the best figure on a poodle you’d ever seen.”
“I’m not sayin’ you’re fat,” he growled. “I just thought you’d filled out some. I ain’t sayin’ it don’t look good on you—”
She whined louder.
“Oh, cripes,” Jake huffed, “I can’t say anything lately without you bawling. What’s wrong now?”
Princess wiped her eye dry with her paw. “I don’t know. My human gets something called PMS. Do you think I might have caught it?”
Jake raised his head and studied her. “PMS? Yeah, that’s it. Poodle Misery Syndrome. You must have a touch of it.”
Whimpering, she laid her head on his neck. “I’m feeling so blue. I miss having a baby around.”
Jake scooted close to her and let out a quivering breath. “Me, too.”
THE NEXT MORNING, Jenny stirred nuts into a nearly cooled vat of fudge, trying to vent her anger. She wasn’t sure who she’d like to shoot first—Loyal the Realtor for not being specific, Dave for not telling her who he really was or the dogs for destroying the White House fudge.
Lack of sleep was getting to her. She reached to rub her shoulder and her hand caught in the chain around her neck. The thin gold strained, then she felt it slip. Her eye caught the twinkle of a diamond as it fell into the vat of fudge. “No!” she yelled, trying to catch it before it sank to the bottom.
“Something wrong, dearie?”
“Everything is wrong, Mrs. Wilcox.” She stuck her arm deep into the sticky, warm chocolate, her fingers desperately searching for the diamond heart.
Mrs. Wilcox watched her dig around in the vat of fudge. “You feelin’ all right?”
“Fine, thanks.” She felt like crap. She had a loan for expansion and nowhere to go. Dave, the kindly kite master, had turned into Attila the Hun, avoiding her like the flu. Her feet hurt, and the new antibacterial soap had caused an ugly rash to break out on her hands.
Where was her necklace? She wedged her other arm in and began to dig through the cooling fudge. She should leave it in the middle of a fudgeball and feed it to Kite Man. No. No matter how mad she was right now, his gift meant a lot to her, and she had to find it. Thick chocolate covered her arms up to her elbows. If that wasn’t bad enough, the entire batch would have to be made over. Again.
“New method of making fudge?”
Jenny lifted her head to see Dave standing in the doorway. “It’s the personal touch.”
He smiled. “At least you’re talking to me.”
She groaned and pulled her arms out of the vat. “Not really. We have nothing to say to each other.” It still unnerved her to learn the man she’d fallen in love with was a consummate liar. How could he have. tricked her about who he was?
“Jenny, be reasonable about this.” He followed her into the back room where she washed her arms in the mop sink. “Can’t we at least discuss it?”
“Why? So you can say, ‘Jenny, I forgot to mention I own this building and plan to throw you out on your fanny because I want to expand the kite shop?’” She turned and walked to the front with him close on her heels.
“Wasn’t that what you were about to do to me?”
She turned to look at him. “No. I was helping you find a place.”
“No.” He crossed his arms. “I was helping you relocate. I thought it was all settled. I called Loyal, made arrangements for us to see the property, you liked it, said it looked great to you, so I called Loyal back and told him to draw up a lease, at your instruction.”
“My instruction? I told Loyal to draw up the lease at your instruction.”
“I sent a deposit!”
“That’s because you’re the one moving, not me!”
“Children.” Mrs. Wilcox came out of the back room. “Customers will hear you.”
Jenny glanced to see a few people standing near the counter. Lowering her voice, she issued a curt, formal request. “Will you kindly step into the storeroom .”
He followed her to the back, pinching off a piece of fudge as he passed the marble cooling table.
“Don
’t do that.”
Her anger threatened to recede as she perused his khaki slacks and blue Polo shirt. Why did he always have to look so dam good? She hadn’t realized how much she needed him—yes, she needed him. Not just physically, but emotionally. Who was she kidding? All she could think about lately was him and how she wished she had been carrying his child. If Fudgeballs had to leave the Island, she’d never see him again.
When they entered the dark storage room, she opened her mouth to say something then closed it when he drew her into his arms and kissed her. It felt so good to be in his arms. He made her feel safe and protected. Through all the misunderstandings, her feelings hadn’t changed. The taste of his lips and the musky scent of his skin still affected her in a magical way. She wished they were alone, where the feel of his naked body against hers would momentarily assuage their problems.
When their lips parted, he wouldn’t let her go. “Will you listen to me? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I own Rockfield, but it didn’t seem important at the time. Hell, it wasn’t important until a few weeks ago.”
She met his steady gaze. “You lied to me.”
“When? I have never once lied to you.”
“You misled me, then. Why didn’t you tell me I was the one moving instead of letting me think you were about to vacate your space?”
“It was a hell of a misunderstanding, but you can’t blame me. You should have told me what you were planning to do.”
Her courage wilted along with her anger. Slumping against his chest, she let him hold her. “What am I going to do? I can’t afford to rent the space in Mackinac City—not yet. All my money has to go toward the expansion—new equipment. It’s the only way the bank will fund me.”
“If it’s just money you’re worried about, don’t be. I can loan—”
Pulling away, she wiped her nose. “I wouldn’t hear of it.”
He took her arm. “Jenny, don’t be a fool. Fudgeballs is growing. You’ve got a good thing going. Don’t let pride make you throw it away.”
“I can’t borrow another cent, Dave. I’m already in hock up to my eyeballs. The expansion would have doubled my profit, but now that can’t happen. I’ll have to struggle along in the space I have.” Her hand felt for the necklace that was no longer there. Tears burned her lids. “And there’s something else you need to know.”
Fudgeballs And Other Sweets Page 12
