by Dana Corbit
“Logan?”
“I keep telling you he’s fine. He’s definitely done you proud at the bakery.”
But she must not have been answering the question the way Amy hoped she would because Amy shook her head. “No. Logan…and the wedding?”
Trina released her friend’s hands. “Oh. That. He’s an unlikely best man, but he’s been a good sport about it.”
“Need to…find matches.”
“And we will in time. For Logan and for Caroline. As soon as you’re home, we’ll get right back to finding matches for our two remaining single children, but for right now I want you to concentrate on getting better.” Trina gave her biggest grin. “And getting ready for this wedding.”
“Frank Kellam?”
At the name of her fellow church member, Trina blinked. “What? Why are you asking about him? Did he come to visit you?” She shot a glance at the door. “Wait. Did one of our kids say something about him? They were joking about matchmaking, and…”
Trina let her words trail away as she noticed the confusion in Amy’s eyes.
“Oh. Were you asking if he and the other church members were invited to the wedding?” When her friend nodded, Trina cleared her throat. “Yes. Dylan and Jenna invited the whole congregation.”
Trina braced herself for more uncomfortable questions, but Amy dropped the subject. She even let Trina comb her hair and use water to make it lie in place. Trina tried to tell herself she was relieved because she could finally focus on more important matters such as Amy’s recovery, but it was more than that and she knew it.
Whether just by accident or with encouragement from their children, Amy had brought up the name of a man who wanted to see her socially. How could any of them think she might be ready to date him or any man?
Well, she wasn’t ready and doubted she ever would be. Only a little more than two years had passed since Gary’s death. She was no romantic, but even she understood that lifetime love only happened once in a lifetime. Memories were a poor substitute for his sturdy arms around her, but she’d learned to live with them, and she wished the others would just leave her alone.
As Trina rubbed lotion on her friend’s hands, she felt as if her heart was breaking. This was the kind of problem she would have shared with her best friend. Amy would have understood why Trina couldn’t even fathom the idea of spending time with another man, how it would feel like she was betraying Gary and the life they’d built together.
But she couldn’t talk to Amy about this, not when Amy’s challenges were so much more significant, her hurdles towering over Trina’s mere bumps in the road of life. That she couldn’t share thoughts like these only made her hurt feel more profound. Her friend with whom she’d shared a lifetime of memories was in some ways absent from her life.
Her reasons were selfish, perhaps, but she was even more determined to find that friend again, more important, to help Amy find herself. Trina could worry about her own social life later.
Caroline had just finished inputting the week’s receipts into the software program when a commotion of loud voices and clanging pans started in the kitchen. She leaped out of her rolling chair so quickly that she made a bang of her own when it rolled backward and crashed into the filing cabinet. Not bothering to stop and right the chair, she rushed out the door and down the short hall to the kitchen.
“What’s going on in here?”
The kitchen looked like a disaster with used cake pans and utensils filling the sink and counters still decorated with colorful splatters of frosting. Caroline didn’t have to cross the floor to guess that her shoes would stick to it when she did.
“We’re celebrating,” Logan announced and then did a drumbeat on a cake pan with a rubber spatula. “We just delivered the last wedding cake for June, and we got it there in one piece despite a pothole the size of Texas on the corner of Washington and Drake.”
Kamie crossed the room, pounding one of the beaters from the industrial-sized mixer against the inside of a steel bowl. She didn’t seem to mind that they’d had to stay almost to dinnertime to finish the last cake for an evening wedding.
“We survived wedding month,” Kamie said.
“Yeah, we made it,” Margie cheered. “We even have new orders for nearly every weekend through Christmas.”
“Did any of you ever doubt it?” Caroline asked and then held up her hand. “No. Don’t answer that. Anyway, I’m sure Mrs. Warren will be proud of everyone’s hard work.”
“She’ll be especially proud of you two,” Kamie said when she stopped pounding.
“Well, thank you, Kamie.” Logan smiled at both of the decorators.
As he moved to the sink to start rinsing the pans and placing them in the dish sanitizer, Logan exchanged a look with Caroline and grinned. She couldn’t help smiling back at him. If there was one thing she could say about Logan, it was that he had an ability to win over his critics, including her.
“You ladies have done a great job today. If you want to get out of here, I’ll clean up the mess and lock up for the night,” he said.
“That sounds like a great idea to me,” Margie said. She linked her arm though Kamie’s, and the two of them hurried out the back door.
Caroline stared after them before turning back to Logan. “Well, you didn’t have to tell them twice.”
“Aren’t you going with them? This is going to take a while.”
“I figured you could use the help.” At his skeptical glance, she added, “And my calendar is pretty clear.”
It was about as good as any excuse she’d used so many evenings lately to hang out with him at the bakery. They’d worked together every night they weren’t visiting his mother in the long-term rehabilitation center or attending the cake-decorating class. She appreciated that every night he pretended to be surprised to see her.
This time he pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “I’m sure Jenna can find you some chore to do for the wedding. Maybe you can help her pick table decorations and party favors or something.”
“Oh, no thank you. I’ll just suffer through doing the cleaning here.”
Caroline expected Logan to kid her about her lack of plans on a Saturday night, but he only returned to rinsing the pans. To make herself useful, she started collecting some of the empty decorator bags and tips.
“It looks like there was a tornado in here.”
“It was crazy when we were trying to get those three cakes out.”
“We?” She raised a brow. They’d only had a few sessions of their cake-decorating class so far. He’d already proven he was skilled at piping, and his crumb coats weren’t half-bad, but had he already been brave enough to try out his skills on a real wedding cake?
Logan shook his head. “I just supervised. I haven’t let the ladies in on our little secret yet.”
Caroline wasn’t sure why, but it pleased her that he’d referred to the cake-decorating class as their secret instead of only his. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze, she liked the idea that the project belonged to the two of them. “But you do seem to have finally won over all the employees.”
“You think so? I knew my charms would eventually get through to them. They always work on women.”
He flashed Caroline a dimpled smile that would have done the trick if all of Logan’s hard work hadn’t already convinced the critics to come over to his side.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Logan.”
“Well, not every woman…but most.”
Though she shook her head over his silliness, she couldn’t help but smile. He was probably right. Most. Even those who’d promised themselves they would re main immune to his charms. Definitely most.
“Wait a minute,” she said as realization dawned. “It’s Saturday night. This is the second time I’ve seen you here on a Saturday night when you could have been out on a date.”
“What’s wrong with that? You’re here.”
“I’m not ‘Logan-the-lady-killer.’”<
br />
She cringed after she said it but felt even more uncomfortable when he didn’t say anything. With dread she turned back to him, and, as she’d predicted, he was grinning at her.
“‘Logan-the-lady-killer,’ huh?”
“That’s what your brothers call you.”
“They do?”
He tilted his head back and forth as if trying on the name for the first time. A disturbing feeling settled inside her gut as she remembered “Ranger Logan,” one of Logan’s other nicknames that hadn’t been quite accurate.
“I suppose it fits as long as you don’t take it literally.” The side of Logan’s mouth lifted. “Those women were very much alive when I took them home. If anything happened to them after I left, well, I…”
“Very funny. You know what I meant.”
“Okay, I’ve dated a lot of women. But in my defense I can say that I haven’t treated them as ruthlessly as that name suggests.” He must have read her confusion because he explained, “I’m not much for second dates.”
Strange how his clarification confused her even more. She’d always thought of him as someone like Kevin, who broke hearts for sport, but it didn’t sound as if he ever became invested enough to hurt anyone.
“But you always had dates whenever we tried to make Warren-Scott family plans,” she began, trying to sound casual. “And then lately…”
“I know. I haven’t lived up to my rep. I’ve had more important stuff on my mind these last few weeks.”
“You have been pretty focused on being there for your mom and running her business.”
She waited for him to say more, but he only nodded and then started toward the storage room. Pulling out the bottle of disinfectant, she sprayed the counter and started wiping. From behind her, she could hear Logan returning, pulling the squeaky-wheeled bucket and mop along with him.
“It’s more than that.”
“What?” Caroline turned to find him using the wringer to squeeze water from the mop.
“The reason I’ve been taking a break from the dating scene.”
“But you did go on a date that one Sunday afternoon—” Though Caroline stopped herself, it wasn’t soon enough to keep Logan from looking at her strangely.
“You remember that? It was more a date with a place than a person. I’ll have to take you there someday.”
Instead of saying more, Logan wrung out the mop again and started washing the floor near the ovens.
“Now wait a minute,” she said. “I get the feeling you were just about to tell me something momentous.”
“Oh,” Logan said, shaking his head. “Forget it.”
Caroline planted her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding? This might be the most fascinating tidbit I’ve ever learned about the infamous Logan Warren, and if you think I’m going to let it go now, then you obviously don’t know how determined I can be.”
“Believe me, I know.” He dropped the mop back in the bucket and blew out a heavy breath. “I’m just tired.”
“Why didn’t you say so? Go home. I can do all this.”
But he started shaking his head. “No, I mean that’s why I’m stepping back from dating. I’m tired of a lot of things. Of too many first dates. Of trying to impress women instead of really getting to know them. Even of not having anyone I can call when I get home at night.”
Caroline just stared at him, somehow managing to keep her mouth from falling open. She didn’t have to guess to know that he’d never said these things to anyone else, and she couldn’t have been more surprised that he’d chosen to share them with her.
Logan wore the stark look of a man who’d spent little time alone but just might be as lonely as she was. And she could finally admit that she was lonely.
Her heart reached out to him with an intensity that shocked her. She was glad for the wet rubber gloves she wore because those and sheer determination were the only things that kept her from rushing over to him and wrapping her arms around him. He wouldn’t appreciate the impulse or the soggy, pitying hug.
But was it only compassion she felt for him? she asked herself as she dragged her gaze away from him. It couldn’t be more. This was Logan Warren, and there were so many reasons why keeping her distance from him would be in her best interest. But those reasons suddenly felt like a water balloon riddled with holes. The lines between friendship and something more had blurred for her, and she needed to draw clear lines again and fast.
When she glanced at him again, he wore a sheepish grin.
“That was too heavy for cleaning conversation.”
“Too heavy? No. Surprising? Yes.”
“My mother’s stroke opened my eyes about a lot of things. Like wasting time. Life is too short for that.”
“You’re right about that.” Her father’s image slipped into her thoughts, and as if her mind turned a page, she saw Mrs. Warren’s face, as well.
“Thinking about your dad again?”
She nodded, no longer surprised that Logan read her so easily. He might be the most unlikely person to be in tune with her, but he was, and it was as simple as that. “About a lot of things.”
Strangely, she felt as if she was beginning to know him, too, not the surface things she’d always heard about him, but the real Logan, who was a caring, articulate man. A person she wanted to know better.
“I’ve always heard people say that when you’re on your deathbed, you’ll never wish you’d spent more time at the office,” he said.
“That’s a tough thing for someone like me to hear.” Having finished wiping down the counters, she started cleaning off the industrial mixer. “I planned to break through the corporate glass ceiling by thirty.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
She frowned as she looked back at him from the mixer, but she softened when he started chuckling. “Well, there’s been a bump in the road, but I’ll get there. Might have to wait until…oh…thirty-two.” She hoped he didn’t ask her about the job search that had stalled lately. She had no idea what she would say if he asked her why.
“That old?”
But he turned away from her after he said it and then was suddenly focused on finishing the mopping, as if their conversation had bothered him somehow. She guessed that he was still uncomfortable about having opened up to her.
To give him space, she moved from the kitchen to the dining area, where she began emptying the bakery case of the leftover cookies, cupcakes and cakes. Those things would need to be delivered to Shared Blessings soup kitchen after they finished up here. She’d only finished the first case before he came through the swinging door with his bucket, joining her in the space out front where they’d spent several evenings lately.
“Are you following me?” she asked.
“Why would I do that?”
As she bent to retrieve a lonely carrot cake from the front of the case, she gave him a silly look through the glass. “I don’t know,” she said as she stood up again. “Maybe because you think that now that you’ve shared your deep, dark secret that I’ll tell you the rest of my story.”
“You think I told you my story just to get yours out of you?” He tilted his head as if considering. “Well, it is a good idea, but I’m not good at that whole manipulation thing. Maybe they teach that in business school.”
He grinned over his pithy line, but then he turned serious. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
Caroline swallowed. He’d just said he wasn’t going to push her, and suddenly she was tempted to tell him far more than just about her disastrous engagement. Like that she was beginning to have feelings for him, feelings that were more startling and frightening than anything she remembered experiencing with her ex-fiancé.
“Well, we’d better finish up here and get the stuff over to Shared Blessings because I do have a date tonight.”
“You do?” She hated the shock in her voice and her sudden clumsiness that made her nearly drop the box she’d just stuffed with leftover cupcakes.
Caroline didn’t want to acknowledge the sigh of relief that she released in tiny bursts.
“I can’t wait to celebrate with her that we survived June. But now we have July and August and— Maybe I won’t tell her that.”
“Probably shouldn’t.”
She shouldn’t have been thinking any of the things she had, either. At least one of them had his priorities straight—still remembered they were here to help his mother—and it clearly wasn’t her. She needed to follow his example and find her own focus again. She should spend the rest of her Saturday night putting out more resumes. They weren’t exciting plans, but her rental and utility bills for her apartment weren’t going anywhere, and her banking account was dwindling fast.
“You can come along if you want,” he said.
“I really shouldn’t, but—”
“Have more exciting plans?”
“Not exactly.” Suddenly, the thought of spending the evening sitting in front of her mother’s desktop computer held even less appeal.
“Then come. You know how much Mom enjoys your visits.”
Her lips were already shaped for her to say “no” when Logan tilted his head to the side. “Please. For me.”
She knew she’d lost the fight the moment he grinned and his dimples popped. She was just trying to be there for her friend, just as Logan was being there for his mother, she told herself, but the thought didn’t ring true. The truth was enough to send her racing back up Interstate 65 to Chicago. She would make any excuse today to spend more time with Logan Warren.
Chapter Ten
Caroline stared at herself in the full-length mirror and had the sudden urge to do a girlish spin to see the midnight-blue, A-line gown float out around her ankles. Only the pins the seamstress had been inserting at the hemline kept her from trying out the spin.
“Oh, Caroline. You look amazing.”
