The Baby Mission
Page 37
“Remember the movers are going to be here at eight in the morning to take the boxes to storage. You’ll be here, right?” Addy asked.
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve only told me a million times.”
“Just making sure.”
“Hey, what time is it?” Kenzie asked.
Addy pointedly looked at the clock that hung next to the bookcase. “Fifteen ‘til one. Why? You have somewhere to be.”
“Fifteen ‘til—crap. Hey! I have an idea. Let’s go get gelato.”
“Gelato? Kenzie, I’m not hungry, why don’t you call one of your friends—”
“No, like I’m really craving it. Let’s just go, just to the place down the street.”
“Just go yourself, I’m going to take a shower—”
“Please, Addy. There’s no gas in my car. I’ll buy.”
“I’m not worried about who’s going to pay, Kenzie.”
“Please, Addy.”
“Oh my God, okay! What’s wrong with you? You better not be pregnant. I swear to God, Kenzie, this better not be a pregnancy craving.”
“I’m not preggers, you know I have an IUD.”
“Alright, well can I shower first? I’m—”
“No, you look super cute. Like Rosie the Riveter, or whatever she’s called.”
“I don’t care how I look, Kenzie, I feel gross—”
“Just come on, you can shower afterward.”
“Wow, okay, but just so you know you’ve become really demanding now that you’re the head of this house.”
Kenzie grabbed her hand and dragged her out the door.
“Hold on! Let me lock up.” Kenzie shifted from side to side.
“I’m just really hungry,” she said.
“Then maybe we should get you something besides gelato,” Addy said as she locked the front door.
“No, I only want gelato.”
“Youngest child, much?” Addy said under her breath.
Kenzie fell into the passenger seat and slid on her sunglasses.
“Drive faster, Grandma,” Kenzie said as Addy drove down the gravel driveway.
“I’m trying not to ding the car if you don’t mind.”
The historic downtown area was bustling with families and couples—or at least as bustling as the small town could be.
“There’s a spot, right there!” Kenzie yelled.
“Okay, I see it! Calm down.” Addy parallel parked while Kenzie squirmed next to her, desperate to get out of the car. “This better be some freaking amazing gelato. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Oh, it is. It totally is.”
The second Addy put the car in park, Kenzie was out the door.
“Come on!” she yelled.
“I’m coming!” Addy chased after Kenzie and as they rounded the corner of the little brick building, they almost ran directly into Jack.
“Jack!” Addy said. “I thought you were working today.”
“Oh, no, I—”
“You better not tell me you lied just to get out of helping us pack,” Addy said jokingly. “Not that I’d really blame you.”
“No, I was at the hospital, but I got off early to take care of something.”
“Hi, Addy.” Rosalie came up from behind Jack.
“Hi…” Addy looked at Jack questioningly.
She hated this. Nothing about Rosalie suggested that she was still into Jack—or him into her—but every time she saw her she was hit by just how gorgeous she was.
“Is that Philip over there?” she asked. Addy shaded her eyes and squinted.
Across the street, Philip lurked by a newspaper dispenser. He seemed to be staring at them, but didn’t wave or smile. When Addy finally raised her hand in greeting, he awkwardly returned it.
“It’s almost one!” Kenzie said as she looked at her phone.
“Kenzie, calm down about the time, you sound like a cuckoo clock. What’s Dawn doing here?” she asked suddenly. “She’s supposed to be on the lunch shift!” She spotted Dawn across the street, near Philip, but Dawn refused to look at her.
“Dawn!” she called.
“Hey, leave her alone,” Jack said, and grabbed Addy’s hand.
“What’s going on?” Addy looked from Kenzie, to Jack, to Rosalie.
“Oh, God,” Rosalie said. She dropped her blonde head into her hands. “I’m a really, really terrible dancer.”
“What?” Across the street, Philip took an old-school boom box out of a duffel bag and put it on the bench.
As Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” started to blare, Addy noticed scores of people stream onto the pedestrian-only street in formation. Some she recognized from the hospital, many were regulars at the diner.
“What’s going on?” She gripped Jack’s hand tighter, but he pushed her away.
Addy felt her face flush neon pink as the flash mob sashayed to the music. Jack mouthed the words, and Rosalie was right—she really was a terrible dancer. The bystanders who weren’t in on it stopped and stared open-mouthed. A few of them took out their phones to record it.
Philip flipped off the stereo with a flourish as the song came to an end.
“What is this?” Addy repeated as Jack approached her. He was flushed from the dance, boyishly handsome.
“It’s a proposal!” he said. “Weren’t you listening?”
“Jack, I—”
“Will you marry me, Addy?” he asked.
Jack dropped to one knee and pulled a Tiffany box from his pocket. He propped it open to reveal a rose gold halo engagement ring with a jaw-dropping center diamond.
Addy looked around.
“But we’re already married,” she hissed to him.
“Marry me again,” he said. “I want to do it over, do it right this time.”
“Have a party this time!” Kenzie called from the crowd.
“Jack, is this… I don’t understand.”
“Addy, I want to travel. I’m not going to give that up. But I only want to travel with you. I need someone, I need you, to help balance me out. You know, plan all the adventures, make sure the itinerary’s in shape.”
“Sounds like you need a travel agent,” she said with a laugh.
“No, I need you.”
Addy looked around at the crowd, at their friends with smiles plastered across their faces.
“Is this for real?” she whispered.
“It’s for real. Unless you’d rather do Reno again—”
“No,” she said quickly, with a laugh. “Not that I remember it, but I’m not sure I want to.”
“So say yes.”
“You’re serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. I love you, Addy. I’ve loved you for a while. Why wouldn’t I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”
“I love you, too,” she said as tears began to well in her eyes.
“So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes.”
Jack rose to his feet as he slipped the diamond on her finger. It overpowered with ease the fake one she’d worn for the past few weeks and carried a weight with it that anchored her.
His lips met hers and she heard the cheers all around them, but in that moment it was just the two of them. Jack pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck.
“Your first task, plan a wedding.”
Addy gulped, but she had to admit that her wheels were already turning.
“Anything, big or small, anywhere you want. No limits,” he said. “And task two? Plan the honeymoon.”
“You have no idea what you’re in for,” she whispered.
Addy had held back slightly when it came to her Type-A planning, even in the thick of their fake marriage. Even she didn’t know what would spring up with the real deal.
“I think I have an idea,” Jack said.
“Hey! So are we going to celebrate, or what?” Philip asked. “I got here early, just so you know. Already some old couple called the cops on me thinking I was some creeper loitering on the c
orner.”
“Uh, sure!” Addy said with a laugh. Kenzie grabbed her hand to examine the ring.
“So much better than the last one,” she said. “You can thank me for that.”
“Kenzie took me shopping,” Jack said with a shrug.
“Yeah, and I only want to shop with someone who says the sky’s the limit from here on out!” Kenzie said.
“Well, let’s celebrate,” Rosalie said. “What’ll it be?”
“Gelato?” Addy asked.
Kenzie laughed.
“What? You’ve been talking about it nonstop for the past half an hour!”
“Gelato sounds good,” Jack said. “Venezia?”
“Uh, the sign says Alotta Gelato,” Addy corrected.
“No! I mean the best gelato is in Venezia, Italy. I have a plane at the hangar and our passports in the car. You want to go?” he asked. “It seats twelve, so if anyone wants to grab their passport and meet us there in an hour, you’re welcome.”
“Kenzie, can you take care of the restaurant?” Addy asked her with a smile.
“Hell, no! Drive me back to the house, I need my passport.”
Addy laughed, then whooped aloud when Jack scooped her off her feet, carrying her toward the car. “Only if you can keep up!”
THE END
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Hot As Hell
1
Lily
Current day
What is it about a missed opportunity for romance that, in retrospect, makes a man so much more attractive?
Lily was wondering that very thing while she worked in the back of at Wilde’s Bakery, carefully frosting some petit fours. She wasn’t thinking of anyone in particular, but Cade Moore was in the back her head. Cade was always in the back of her head, though.
“Your petit fours are looking much better.”
Lily looked up and smiled at Jean-Michel as she finished icing one of the Christmas-themed creations.
“Thanks,” she said. Lily had been at Wilde’s Bakery in historic Salem since finishing the patisserie course at Le Cordon Bleu in Portland last year. “I think maybe I’ve finally mastered these little beasts.”
“Mastered? No,” Jean-Michel said in his thick Parisian accent. “Made acceptable for the sale section, maybe.”
“Wow, thanks, boss,” she said with an eye roll.
“Is a compliment,” he said as he swapped out the register beside her. “You know how many pastry chefs with a bachelor’s in chemistry I hire?”
“Zero. I know, I know,” she said as she slid the tray into the display case. “And you know I don’t agree with that. What is baking but based in science, anyway?”
“Baking is art, mon canard,” he said. “Remember that.”
“Right. So, can I do macarons today?”
“No,” he said bluntly. “You practice enough today. Back to counter work up front.”
“But, Jean-Michel—”
“Your last macarons, they were too dry. Tomorrow, maybe, I show you more and you try again.”
“Alright,” she said, defeated.
“By the way, you find out more about the… how you say, graphic-y?”
“Graffiti,” she corrected. “And, no. I talked to the police again, but they think it’s just kids.”
“Just kids,” Jean-Michel repeated. “Why they graphic my bakery? Who they think is going to pay for that?”
“Maybe you should just stop covering it up then,” Lily said as she snuck one of the macarons Jean-Michel had created that morning into her mouth. “I mean, you can’t even tell what it says anyway.”
“Is French. Or supposed to be,” he said.
“Yeah? And what does that last thing they wrote mean?”
“Stop eating. You want to keep French woman waistline or no?”
“Fine,” she said as she tried to covertly run a hand along her trim waist. “But only if you tell me what it means.”
“Bâtard Français. French Bastard. Of course, they spell it wrong,” he said with a huff. “Right, French bastard. Those kids probably the ones without parents, running wild in the streets—sorry,” he said quickly. “Pardon, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.
Lily hated how everyone walked on eggshells around her. She barely remembered her mom. Lily had been six when she’d died in that car accident. But her dad’s death six months ago, that still hurt, of course. Even as Jean-Michel apologized, she felt the sting in her eyes.
What did you expect? He had one of the most dangerous jobs there is.
“Really, it’s fine,” she said and forced a smile. “You didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“You watch the front,” he repeated. “I need to finish the cake for the ridiculous wedding. Can you believe it? Naked icing, is the most ridiculous trend…”
She smiled as she listened to Jean-Michel tick off the woes of modern-day wedding cakes in the back. She slipped out into the front, dusting off her jeans.
“Hey, Lil.”
Lily looked up at Elijah’s voice, complemented by the gentle chime of the front door. EJ, as they called her brother, tipped his hat to her.
“Hi. Nice shirt,” she said with a wry smile.
“This old thing?” He pulled at the taut new shirt advertising the firehouse’s latest fundraiser.
“Yeah. Totally subtle. No girl will fail to realize you are a firefighter, for sure,” she said.
“Finally, something to help drop the panties of this town. Not that I really had any problem before, of course…”
“Ew, would you stop?” Lily asked with a fake shudder. “Your sister’s here, you know.”
“I’ll stop for now, but only because you hook me up,” EJ said. “Can I get the usual?”
“I’m way ahead of you.” Lily started to pour dark roast into large canisters while arranging eclairs in Jean-Michel’s trademark pink boxes. “You know, with how much of these pastries you guys eat, you’re all going to have to double down at the gym to work this off.”
“Do I look like I need extra gym sessions?” EJ asked. “Feel these,” he said and flexed his arm.
“Thanks, I’ll pass.”
The door chimed again, and Lily plastered on her customer smile. Cade strolled in with his matching firehouse shirt and Lily felt the heat rush to her face.
He was the same as ever, big and strong and muscular all over. He still had the broad chest and narrow hips of an athlete, and he was still covered in tattoos, the whorls of ink covering both of his arms to the wrist.
She bit her lip. And you just happen to know exactly what those tattoos look like up close…
Fuck, Lily thought as her heart began to hammer. She hadn’t seen him, not really, in what? Three years, she told herself. As if she needed to think about it. It’s been almost three years since that day…
“Hey! Lily! Watch it,” EJ said. He reached across the counter to pull her hand away from the coffee pour.
“I wasn’t going to spill it!” she hissed. “God, Elijah James. You’re such a drama queen.”
She straightened her apron and fumbled with the to-go box.
“Yeah, Elijah James, such a drama queen,” Cade said as he approached the counter. “Hey, Lily.”
“Hi.” She panicked with what to say next, but luckily EJ and his big mouth took over.
“Cade! I thought you wouldn’t be here until Monday, dude,” EJ said.
Cade shrugged. “Things change.”
“Glad to have you back, man,” EJ said as he clapped Cade on the shoulder. “Damn, we haven’t been on crew together in forever.”
“Hey, Lil? Can I get a large latte?” he asked. Her name on his full lips sent a shiver down her spine.
“I, uh. Yeah, right away. Large latte,” she
repeated, all business.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly. It was like looking at the sun. In the past couple of years, ever since that day, they’d rarely seen each other.
Almost immediately after it happened, Cade had accepted a post in Montana.
She hated to admit it, but that had broken her heart. It was part of the reason she’d jumped on the offer at the culinary school.
Now, he’d lost all his boyishness, save for that grin she remembered obsessing over since she was a kid.
Not that he wasn’t hot before, but damn, she thought to herself. What are they putting in the water out in Montana?
He was bronzed, a rarity in Oregon. It contrasted perfectly with his chestnut hair, kept clipped close. The perpetual five o’clock shadow was a harsh reminder of the burn he’d left on her neck, her lips, nearly three years ago.
Because like it or not, his searing touch had changed her…
But that was then. This was now. Lily straightened her spine and blatantly ogled Cade in the reflection of the espresso machine’s steel body.
He put on some serious muscle, she thought. She’d sworn to herself that the next time she saw him, if she ever did, all traces of her crush would be gone.
I should just be grateful I gave my virginity to someone I’d always wanted, she thought.
But now, seeing him like this? All those feelings rushed back.
“You look good, dude,” EJ said as he sized up his brother-from-another-mother. “Healthy. Sorry about what happened with your old company, though—”
“It’s fine,” Cade said, too quickly. All of them stood in uncomfortable silence, unable to gauge where the sudden attitude change came from.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place to get an energy jolt before hitting up the station,” EJ said. “Lily pours the best in town.”
Both of them turned to stare at her as she poured the steamed milk on top of the medium roast. She froze when his eyes caught hers.
Am I imagining this? she thought. In those familiar hazel eyes, she saw nothing but raw animal desire.
“You, uh … you did something different with your hair,” Cade said to her.