The Truth in Tiramisu (A Poppy Creek Novel Book 2)

by Rachael Bloome

  “Am I this bossy?” Eliza groaned.

  “You’re worse,” Sylvia snorted. “Now, out with it. What’s bothering you?”

  For a moment, Eliza didn’t speak, wondering which problem she should tackle first. Mentioning Grant would only open wounds she wasn’t ready to face. Colt, on the other hand, was a marginally safer topic.

  “I’m waiting.” Sylvia pursed her heavily outlined lips. Even on a quiet weeknight at home, Sylvia Carter wouldn’t be caught dead without a full face of makeup. Not to mention the flamboyant updo.

  “I… have a date. Sort of.”

  “You have a date?” Sylvia squealed, clasping her hands together. “Thank goodness! I was beginning to think you’d die alone. You don’t even have a cat.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Eliza should be offended, except she’d heard the same lament a thousand times before.

  “Hank!” Sylvia shouted. “We can finally book that Mediterranean cruise!”

  Eliza rolled her eyes, ignoring the slight sting of her mother’s words. “Dad’s still in the garage working on Frida Connelly’s sewing machine. The one she insists is broken all because her sister, Francine, can sew a straighter line.” Eliza snickered, but Sylvia wasn’t listening. The mention of Eliza’s potential love life negated all other matters.

  “Fine, I’ll tell him later.” Sylvia turned her hopeful gaze back on her daughter. “So, I want to hear all about him.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. It’s one date. Barely even a date, really. And I haven’t decided if I want it to become more than that.”

  “Why not? Is there something wrong with him?”

  “No. I’m just not sure I should be dating anyone right now.”

  Sylvia opened her mouth to protest, and Eliza held up her hand. “At this moment, I need to focus on my son. Especially with the trouble he’s having in school. Speaking of which, I should go check on his homework.”

  Eliza slid off the stool and headed for the staircase, bracing herself for her mother’s inevitable—and always theatrical—outcry. But when she’d reached the bottom step and the performance still hadn’t come, Eliza stole a quick glance over her shoulder.

  Sylvia met her gaze, her dark eyes soft, yet troubled.

  “What?” Eliza asked against her better judgment.

  “Nothing,” Sylvia said quietly.

  A mixture of unease and curiosity settled in Eliza’s stomach. And despite the warning voice telling her to drop the subject, she persisted. “There’s obviously something on your mind. What is it?”

  Sylvia shifted her weight, her expression strained. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, speaking in a low, gentle voice. “Sweetheart, whatever you’re holding on to, you have to let it go. You can’t use Ben as an excuse forever.”

  At her mother’s words, all the air rushed from Eliza’s lungs, and she gripped the banister for support. How could her mother say that to her? A defensive retort rose in her throat, but Eliza chose to swallow the bitter irony, no matter how painfully it went down.

  Holding back tears, she reminded herself that her mother didn’t know the whole story.

  And if she did, Sylvia, of all people, would beg Eliza to keep her secret safe, and never, ever let it go.

  Seated in the booth next to Luke, and across from Colt Davis and Reed Hollis, Grant couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to be home, surrounded by friends again. He could kick himself for waiting so long to reconnect.

  “I still can’t believe you both decided to show your ugly mugs around town again.” A huge grin plastered across his face, Jack glanced from Grant to Colt as he set a steaming rack of ribs on the table. He lowered his lumbering frame into the tan leather booth, shoving Grant against Luke.

  “Speaking of ugly mugs,” Colt lobbed back, nabbing a curly fry. “Did a wild animal attach itself to your face?”

  Chuckling, Jack ran a hand over his scruffy beard. “Watch it, Davis. It’s not too late for me to tamper with your food. We’re still waiting on the onion rings.”

  “Yeah.” Reed jabbed Colt in the shoulder. “Respect your elders, man. In Jack’s time, they learned to shave with the fang of a saber-toothed tiger.”

  Grant joined in their laughter, realizing it had been ages since he’d laughed so hard. Even though he hadn’t seen the guys in years, some things never changed. Jack and Luke only had two years on them, but the old men jokes, ironically, never got old.

  Gazing around the table, Grant marveled at how the four men had maintained such a strong friendship, yet couldn’t be more different.

  Jack, with his large, hulking build and penchant for flannel, could have been a lumberjack if he didn’t already own the best restaurant in town. And although he doled out sarcasm as easily as barbecue sauce, he had the biggest heart and would do anything for a friend or stranger alike.

  Out of the four, Grant had the most in common with Reed. Within the group, Reed could dish out the jokes with the best of them, but overall, he possessed a quieter spirit. Grant wasn’t surprised to learn he’d opened his own nursery, cultivating plants with an artistic flare Grant found instantly relatable.

  Luke was… well, Luke. Similarly, as in their childhood, he had a calm, grounding effect on those around him. And seemed to be the linchpin holding everyone together.

  Then there was Luke’s younger brother, Colt—Luke’s opposite in every way. And to be honest, Grant wasn’t sure how he felt about the guy.

  Colt had been the quintessential high school heartthrob—quarterback of the football team, blond haired and blue eyed, with charm that oozed out of his pores. But besides being a romantic comedy cliché—right down to his ridiculous dimple—there was something about Colt that Grant didn’t trust.

  “So,” Luke cut into Grant’s thoughts. “How long are you guys sticking around town? Are you leaving right after the wedding?”

  Colt shrugged, reaching across the table to grab a rib dripping with Jack’s special barbecue sauce. “It depends.”

  “On what?” Reed asked, helping himself after Colt.

  Colt didn’t respond, merely wiggling his eyebrows as he tore into the meat like a caveman.

  “It’s a woman.” Jack slapped his huge bear paw on the tabletop. “I knew it. You’ve been back less than twenty-four hours and you’ve already marked your prey.”

  Colt chuckled, wiping a smear of sauce with the back of his hand.

  Grant shifted as much as he could manage while sandwiched between the broad shoulders of Jack and Luke. He didn’t care for the turn the conversation had taken, although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

  “Who’s the unlucky victim?” Reed grinned, dunking a fry into a glob of ketchup before cramming the entire thing into his mouth.

  “Eliza.”

  The table went deathly silent, all eyes on Grant.

  Grant blinked. What did Colt say? It sounded like he’d said “Eliza,” but that couldn’t be right. Grant tugged on his collar, uncomfortably warm all of a sudden.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  “Colt,” Luke interjected gently. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  “Why not? Have you guys seen her? I can’t believe she’s still single.”

  Heat crept up Grant’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. Their pitying stares seemed to bore straight through his forehead. And for a second, he considered slinking beneath the table.

  “Oh…” Realization seemed to dawn on Colt, and he snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You two used to date in high school. I’m an idiot. I’ll back off. Unless you don’t mind….”

  Another throat cleared.

  This time, everyone seemed to be trying their hardest not to look at Grant.

  Grant forced himself to meet Colt’s gaze.

  How did the guy manage to look so innocent? Colt had to know his question gutted Grant to his core. But what could he say? It wasn’t like he had any claim on Eliza. She was her own person. He didn’t have any right to in
terfere in her dating life. Of course, that knowledge didn’t stop him from wanting to reach across the table to flick the smug smile off Colt’s face.

  “I don’t mind,” Grant lied between clenched teeth.

  “Great!” Colt nabbed another rib, satisfied the topic had been resolved.

  But Luke didn’t look as convinced. “There are other things to consider, Colt.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, she has a son.”

  “And you’re an infant in a grown man’s body,” Jack added for good measure.

  “Says the man wearing a bib.” Colt gestured toward the napkin tucked inside Jack’s collar. Turning back to his brother, Colt said, “Look, I get that you’re concerned. Sure, I don’t have a stable job at the moment. Or a house with a white picket fence and a porch swing. Or whatever else girls fantasize about. But I’m not asking her to marry me. I just want to take her on a few dates and see where things go.”

  “See, that’s exactly my point,” Luke told him. “You can’t be your usual carefree, no-strings-attached self with a girl like Eliza. You have to be intentional. She’s not just another beautiful woman. She’s a mom. Which means you’re not only dating her. You’re dating her kid, too.”

  When Colt pulled a face, Luke rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Colt may not have understood, but Grant heard Luke loud and clear.

  Like Colt, Grant had no business being anyone’s dad—surrogate or otherwise.

  And that meant, no matter what, Eliza was off-limits.

  Chapter 6

  Eliza gazed mournfully at the heap of picnic baskets collected in the center of the town square, one hand on her churning stomach. In years past, she’d already be scouring the selection, zeroing in on the most scrumptious offering. Today, even the mere thought of a chicken pesto panini or grilled Reuben sandwich made her nauseous.

  Rather than assess the plethora of lunch possibilities, Eliza scanned the throng of picnic-goers, flashing back to New Year’s Eve. The last person she’d expected to see that night was Grant Parker. And now that he’d returned…

  The normally sweet, lilac-scented air felt stifling.

  “Nervous about your date?” Cassie’s teasing tone pulled Eliza from her thoughts.

  “No. Because it’s not really a date. So, there’s no reason to be nervous.”

  “Then, why do you look so pale?”

  As if on cue, Grant appeared in the crowd, joined by Jack, Reed, and Penny.

  With his head thrown back, Grant laughed at something Jack said, a winsome smile illuminating his handsome features.

  The sight left Eliza winded and a little light-headed.

  Cassie followed her gaze. “Is that Grant?”

  Unable to find her voice, Eliza nodded.

  Grant looked even more attractive than she remembered. While he’d been teased in high school for his glasses, lanky build, and artsy interests, Eliza had always found him irresistible. His lavender-hued, brooding eyes paired with impossibly thick and glossy ink-black hair made for a heart-pounding combination.

  To Eliza’s dismay, Grant still possessed every ounce of his youthful appeal, plus he’d filled out in the all the right places. She couldn’t help noticing the way his light blue polo stretched across his broad chest and defined shoulders.

  Dizziness swept over her, and Eliza suddenly found herself in desperate need of an ice-cold glass of water.

  “Oh, Liza.” Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving them a sympathetic squeeze. “Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”

  “No. I’m fine. Really.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “I skipped breakfast in anticipation of the picnic. I’m just hungry.”

  Although Cassie didn’t look convinced, she didn’t press further.

  Eliza released a grateful sigh, wondering how much longer until they could head for Larkspur Meadow. She needed to put some distance between her and Grant—fast.

  “Hope you ladies don’t mind, but I picked the basket for our group.” Colt tapped a soft-sided cooler bag slung over his shoulder. “I heard rumblings about roast beef sandwiches, potato salad, and mini chocolate lava cakes, and couldn’t resist.”

  “Works for me!” Cassie said brightly. “Did you ask Luke?”

  “His exact response was, and I quote, ‘Whatever Cassie wants.’” Colt chuckled. “You’ve trained him better than a Pomeranian.”

  “Very funny.” Cassie rolled her eyes, but her soft smile and dreamy gaze gave away her delight.

  “What’d you guys get?” Jack’s deep, thunderous voice carried above the general hubbub in the town square as he crossed the field toward them. Reed, Penny, and Grant trailed behind his considerable stride.

  Eliza sucked in a breath as they drew nearer, her pulse escalating with each step Grant took in her direction. How could he be so calm and relaxed? Especially when Eliza’s heart had leapt into her throat.

  “Like I’d tell you,” Colt snorted. “I had to wrestle Bill Tucker for this cooler. Keep your mangy paws off it.”

  “Relax, princess.” Jack grinned good-naturedly. “I’m not interested in stealing your lunch. Grant picked ours. And I have to say, I think he got the best one.”

  Curious, Eliza stole a glance at the wicker basket in Grant’s hand, nearly losing her balance when she spotted the familiar gingham napkin peeking out of the top.

  What were the odds that Grant had chosen her basket?

  “Oh, yeah?” Colt inched closer, his thick eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What’d you get?”

  “Oh, now you want to trade information?” Jack crossed his arms, his blue eyes glinting with humor.

  Colt shrugged. “If I were you, I wouldn’t tell me, either. We both know it won’t compare.” Patting the cooler bag, Colt twisted his lips into a challenging smirk.

  “Okay, I’ll call your bluff. But you tell first,” Jack countered.

  Eliza wrapped both arms around her stomach, watching the exchange with increasing discomfort. If they didn’t stop arguing soon, she’d head off toward the meadow by herself. She couldn’t spend two more seconds in Grant’s company. And somehow, knowing he’d inadvertently chosen her picnic basket added to her unease. It felt too… intimate.

  Penny groaned, apparently as fed up with their juvenile antics as Eliza. “You two are worse than toddlers.” Grabbing the basket from Grant, she read the handmade note card tied to the handle. “It’s stuffed focaccia sandwiches, antipasto salad, seasonal fruit, pomegranate lemonade, and espresso chip brownies.”

  “Huh. That does sound pretty good,” Colt admitted.

  “Why don’t we all sit together and share?” Reed offered. “The sandwiches are cut in halves. We can easily divvy them up.”

  No, no, no! Eliza scrambled to come up with a reasonable objection, but nothing came to mind. Other than spending the afternoon with Grant being akin to cruel and unusual punishment. But it wasn’t as if she could say that out loud.

  “Um… are you guys sure? Sharing isn’t against Secret Picnic rules, is it?” Cassie met Eliza’s gaze, as if sensing her unease.

  Eliza flashed an appreciative smile, wishing she could hug her on the spot.

  “Nah.” Reed waved away her concern. “It’s not that rigid. What do you guys say? Can you agree to play nice?”

  “I’m game if you are,” Colt told Jack.

  “It’s a deal.” Jack extended his hand, and the two men shook on it.

  “Honestly, you’re both unbelievable.” Penny gathered her thick auburn hair into a low ponytail, securing the tie with an agitated snap.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Colt gifted her his most irresistible grin.

  “Don’t,” Penny mumbled under her breath. Although Colt didn’t seem to notice.

  Eliza tried to suppress the wailing alarm reverberating inside her head that screamed, Run away! Run away, now!

  The short walk to Larkspur Meadow would only take ten to fifteen minu
tes, but they’d be out there most of the afternoon eating lunch, then participating in the traditional picnic games. Heaven forbid they got paired for the three-legged race! She had to find a way out of this nightmare before things got any worse.

  “Mom, Uncle Luke said I could carry the picnic blanket.” Ben proudly hoisted a rolled-up quilt more than twice his size over his slender shoulder, unaware that Luke walked behind him supporting most of the weight.

  Dismayed, Eliza’s gaze darted to Grant, then back to her son.

  Too late.

  The day had now become much, much worse.

  Grant wasn’t sure what he expected when he showed up for the Secret Picnic, but it sure wasn’t to get roped into spending the day with Eliza.

  Or her son.

  Eliza seemed to be equally uncomfortable with the prospect. Without so much as a fleeting introduction, she relegated her son to eating lunch with his grandparents. The little guy looked mildly disappointed until Eliza told him he could invite a friend to go along.

  As Grant watched him skip toward Hank and Sylvia Carter, a strange weight settled in his stomach. But he wasn’t sure if the heaviness stemmed from relief or regret.

  Or maybe a mixture of the two.

  Grant never hid the fact that children were outside his comfort zone. But something about meeting Eliza’s son intrigued him. Grant wondered how much he took after his mother. He clearly resembled her in appearance. But would he have the same infectious laugh? Or a similar kindhearted propensity to befriend every new kid in town? For some reason, it made Grant supremely happy to imagine Ben as the spitting image of Eliza. But whenever Grant’s mind wandered to Ben’s father, his brain shut off, as if guarding him from the inevitable pain such thoughts would cause.

  Suddenly somber, Grant hung back as Colt took command of the group, leading them to the trailhead just past Main Street. No one else seemed to mind Colt’s assertiveness, but it irked Grant whenever he assumed control. Mostly because, when push came to shove, Colt shirked any ounce of responsibility. Even as a teen, he’d relished being in charge as long as it didn’t cost him anything.