Cinnamon and Sunshine

by Hollie Westring

  “Would chocolate peanut butter cookies be on that list?” I razzed, noting how Cruz nonchalantly maneuvered his body so his back was facing the picture-takers and he was blocking me from their view.

  “Among other things,” Cruz shot back, a grin playing on his lips.

  “What time?” I asked.

  “How about sometime in the afternoon? I can text you in the morning.”

  “Okay, but I can’t meet too late,” I replied, remembering dinner with Jonathan.

  “Why not?” Ivy asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.

  “I’ve got stuff to do.” I shrugged and swirled my watered-down cocktail before taking a drink.

  “Like?” Ivy quizzed, earning an elbow from Eliza.

  “Just a dinner thing,” I replied, sending her a look.

  An ear-splitting squeal behind me halted any further discussion. Ivy wrinkled her nose and Eliza stared wide-eyed at the scene. I turned to see two women holding hands and staring at Cruz.

  “Are you Crazy Cruz?” the brunette shrieked.

  “Ohmygod, it totally is, Valerie. Can’t you tell? Just look at him.”

  I turned back in time to see Cruz’s fingers flex around the glass he drew to his mouth. Pulling it away slowly, he flashed the girls his winning grin.

  “I take it you’re fans of the show?” he asked. A facade came up around him as he spoke. He was playing the part of up-and-coming TV star now.

  “Only the biggest fans!” the one named Valerie said as she tugged down her top to show off the girls.

  “Way to be obvious,” Ivy muttered, eyeing the women like they were gum on the bottom of the table.

  “Can we buy you a drink, Cruz?” Valerie asked, completely ignoring Ivy’s comment—and Eliza and me, for that matter.

  “We should probably be going,” Ivy said dryly, frowning in Cruz’s direction. Eliza grabbed her handbag and shot me a frazzled glance as I slid out of the booth.

  “Good seeing you,” I shouted over my shoulder as Eliza grabbed my hand to keep up with Ivy. Cruz opened his mouth to say something, but instead just nodded a goodbye as the women, who were now joined by four additional buxom pals, climbed over one another to sit at the booth we’d vacated. I looked over my shoulder one last time to see Cruz wink my direction before turning his attention to the table.

  His face didn’t look afflicted when he winked. Unlike Justin, Cruz was born to wink at women.

  “They’re the worst,” Ivy groaned once we were outside on the sidewalk. “Those groupies just want a shot at fame. They think hanging out with Cruz is a one-way ticket onto TV. I don’t know how he stands it.”

  “Maybe he likes the attention,” Eliza reasoned, always the diplomat. “I know from experience that traveling can be lonely. He’s been on the road pretty much since he left Sage Springs at the beginning of the summer, right?”

  “I’d take loneliness over being fawned over by those types any day of the week,” Ivy disagreed as we reached Eliza’s car. I climbed into the passenger’s side, thinking about how good it felt to be around Cruz before the fans ambushed the table. My phone buzzed, and I dug around my bag until I found it.

  Cruz: I never dated Lana, by the way. It was just a few photo ops set up by our publicists.

  Cruz: And I wish you hadn’t left. It was just getting good.

  “Who’s that?” Ivy asked from the back.

  “A friend,” I hedged, dodging her attempt at grabbing my phone.

  “Hey, hey,” Eliza said. “Imaginary line right here.” She motioned between the back and front seats as Ivy’s phone rang, saving me from further explanation.

  Me: It’s late. Besides, your new friends looked … friendly. And good to know about Lana.

  I sighed, remembering the women crowding around him at the table. That was his life. My phone screen flashed almost immediately.

  Cruz: Get some rest. You know, for your dinner date tomorrow.

  Me: That’s very thoughtful of you. And don’t stay out too late with the girls lined up around your table. :)

  Cruz: Night, Sunshine.

  Me: Night.

  Feeling a little more confused and a whole lot more interested in Cruz than I had a right to be, I joined the conversation about who else might be showing up to film. Rumor had it that Tommy Hillsdale, a young film star recently busted for a DUI, might attempt a comeback by making an appearance.

  “I’ll admit a tiny part of me wants to stop by the set to see that freak show in action,” Ivy confessed as Eliza pulled up in front of my house to drop me off. We all waved at my great-aunt, who was waiting on the front porch. She disappeared in a flash and the front light came on. She had her moments.

  It wasn’t until later as I was brushing my teeth before bed that I realized what that feeling from earlier had been. That feeling that I’d thought was caused from Cruz spinning me around in the hallway.

  It was my heart. That was no dull thud earlier.

  I forced myself to breathe evenly as I felt my heart happily thump as I remembered the way Cruz smelled.

  That could mean trouble.

  CHAPTER 5

  The following morning I lazily stretched as the sun peeked through the gauzy curtains that billowed from the fall breeze coming through the window I’d left cracked open. There was nothing like waking up surrounded by crisp autumn air in your own house.

  The clock on the dresser let me know it was seven twenty. I needed to try out a new recipe for pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting since I had an order that had to be shipped to Texas tomorrow morning, so that would kill some time. I could thank the new world of online bakery services for that order.

  I’d slowly been growing Sweet Stuff the last few years, and it was going well. Especially with the top-notch clientele Cruz had been sending my way. My chocolate cream cupcakes had even been photographed at an actor’s awards party. Things were finally good, except for the whole love thing.

  After high school, I attended community college in a neighboring town, but none of the majors grabbed my attention, so I received my associate’s degree and decided to help out my parents at the Spoon.

  However, working there on a full-time basis lasted all of two months. While I enjoyed helping at the diner, I didn’t love working there every day. Jake seemed to enjoy it, though, so we’d struck a deal: he and my parents would run the place, and I’d bake in the back room. However, word of my skill traveled fast, so soon I was creating wedding cakes and making sure desserts were the best they could be at local events. Technology eventually elbowed in and with Jake and then Ivy’s help, I was able to set up a prosperous online baking website. I’d found my calling, and I’d moved out of the back of my parents’ diner and named my business. Sweet Stuff got orders from all over the country, and even a few places internationally.

  I swiped my phone off the nightstand and checked the orders for this week. I had five others so far, three of them going to California, and one each to Minnesota and Florida. Not bad. Out of habit, I scanned a few blogs to check on the latest gossip.

  Celebrity news was a very guilty pleasure for me. I loved seeing the headlines and photos of people who lived in a glitzy world far from Sage Springs, Missouri. I perused through a few hookup photos before my thumb landed on Cruz’s handsome mug.

  He had been snapped sitting at the table at Clove Crossing with Ivy, Eliza, and me. None of us were looking at the camera, which kind of creeped me out. Who took photos of people and sent it to blogs? I quickly zoomed in on the text and began reading the post on the Flibbertigibbet site.

  Cruz Drakov Preps for Next Show in Missouri

  Thanks to Valerie from Kansas City for sending in these photos of Cruz Drakov at a local hotspot. It appears the TV show host of Cruz’s Fearsome Phantoms is in Missouri to shoot his next episode, but every hot guy deserves a little fun, right? No word on who the three ladies in the top photo are, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they quickly lost Cruz’s interest and left, according to source
s at the scene.

  He may not be an A-list celebrity yet, but Cruz has been climbing the media’s interest meter since being spotted with Lana DeCourt and a handful of other A-listers the last few months. But it doesn’t appear he minds mixing with the locals when he sets up shop for a shoot.

  Damn, he’s looking good, isn’t he, ladies and gents?

  “Blech,” I muttered. “That’s putting it mildly.” At least I’d looked cute in the photo. Cruz was snapped mid-laugh as he looked down at me, and Eliza and Ivy appeared to be caught in discussion.

  Below that post was another photo, this one of Cruz, who had his arms around two of the several women standing around him at Clove Crossing the previous night. He gave the camera a small, self-assured smirk.

  That was his life—hot women, doing whatever or whoever he wanted to do, carefree attitude.

  I sighed at the reminder of how nice it must be to shrug off feelings and just live in the moment. Even after all my dates, I still couldn’t imagine hooking up with men at random. And that seemed to be what Cruz called any night ending in Y.

  Shaking the thoughts from my head, I focused on my plans for the day. I had work to do and orders to prep. I tossed the fluffy white comforter off my warm body and reached for my plush robe dotted with pink hearts. I slid my feet into matching slippers and sluggishly made my way to the kitchen. I needed some music. Happy, loud music.

  Fumbling with the phone dock Eliza had given me for my birthday, I pressed buttons until the thing lit up. I touched a few more until a high-energy song came on.

  My rumbling stomach reminded me I’d only had a grilled cheese the night before. Finding out your date had been friendly with his relative had a way of depleting an appetite, so today called for something heavy and delicious—bacon-apple pancakes.

  I searched the fridge for ingredients as the music pounded through the room. It was nice not having to worry about the neighbors banging on the walls and asking me to turn the music down. Not that I’d ever let my music reach those levels since that would have been rude.

  I went into autopilot as I made breakfast, my mind flitting over last night’s events and the photos on the Internet. Based on how accompanied he’d appeared last night, Cruz probably wouldn’t be texting me until later, which meant I had plenty of time to test out a few recipes.

  I dug into the pancakes, chuckling as I envisioned what Justin’s expression would be if he saw me gorging on bacon anything. He’d give me a tight smile and make some snide comment about cholesterol statistics. I rolled my eyes at how blind I’d been right as my phone chimed across the kitchen. Figuring it was probably my mom, I hopped up to check.

  Cruz: How about lunch at one? We can meet at the Spoon.

  My eyebrows arched. It was seven fifty. Either Cruz hadn’t gone to bed yet, or he hadn’t stayed out as late as I’d thought. Not that it mattered. Because it didn’t.

  Me: Sounds like a plan.

  Cruz: You’re already up?

  Me: Yeah, I don’t sleep in much.

  Cruz: I get you.

  Me: You should probably get some rest. Looks like you had a long night.

  Cruz: ??

  I flushed. Way to look like a stalker, Lexi.

  Me: I was just perusing a couple of blogs and saw a few photos of you from last night.

  I messaged him the link.

  Cruz: Comes with the territory. You know how I can get in touch with that cute blonde in the top photo? The one with the turquoise dress?

  Me: Maybe.

  I grinned as I typed.

  Cruz: Think she’d go out with me if I promised to be on my best behavior?

  The grin turned into a full-on smile, and I bit my lip in contemplation while I decided how to respond. Better to keep it flirty.

  Me: I might be able to hook you up, but I hear she’s a hot commodity lately.

  Cruz: Let me know if she says yes. I’ll show her a hell of a good time.

  I bet he would.

  ☀ ☀ ☀

  I chatted with my mom at the diner for a few minutes before Cruz walked in that afternoon. He stopped inside the doorway and removed his sunglasses, and I might have let myself ogle a little as he allowed his eyes to adjust.

  He was wearing a black-and-white pinstriped button-up with black jeans. His shirt sleeves were folded up, showing just the right amount of ink. His hair was tousled this morning, but it wasn’t the carefully placed kind of tousled like Justin’s. Oh no. It was a ran-a-towel-over-my-head-and-left-the-inn-without-looking-in-a-mirror kind of tousled. Which was hot, because only guys with tons of self-confidence could pull off that look.

  “Hey, missy. You going to give me my meatloaf, or are you going to stand there and look at the front door all day?” an irritated elderly customer asked me, ruining my inspection.

  “Sorry about that, Mr. Murphy. Here you go,” I said, pasting a big smile on my face as I set the plate between his liver-spotted hands.

  “Isn’t that—” My mom started as she looked to see who’d entered the diner.

  “Yes,” I answered before she could finish. Although my mother was nice to pretty much everyone, Cruz had a special spot in her heart after his visit last spring. Even my dad had been sad to hear Cruz left; they’d bonded over their love of cars, or something like that.

  “Cruz!” Mom yoo-hooed across the diner, waving as if he might miss her.

  “Melinda! So good to see you again.” Cruz enveloped my mother and then shook hands with my dad, who’d trotted his way over as soon as Mom had called attention to Cruz. “Walter, you’re looking good.”

  Dad’s chest puffed out as he proudly ran a hand over his slightly thinner physique. “Been working out.”

  “It shows,” Cruz said politely.

  Now that he was closer, I could take a better look while he was distracted by my parents. His black pants were fitted, and a chain dangled from his front right pocket. Based on his TV show appearances, I knew he usually kept his hair nearly military short, but the slightly longer look suited him. His eyes darted to mine, and his lips tipped up as he caught me staring at him.

  “You ready?” I asked, nodding toward a section of tables in the back where we could have some privacy. To chat about business, I reminded myself.

  “I’m all yours,” he said as he gestured, letting me take the lead.

  “Such a gentleman,” I heard my mom whisper to my dad.

  Once we were safely on the other side of the diner from my mother and her probable eavesdropping, I pointed to a table. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll put in our order before we get down to business. What would you like?” He pulled out his chair and drew his mouth to the side in contemplation.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

  “Okay, but what don’t you like? It’ll help me narrow it down.”

  “I like everything.” He grinned, leaning back in the chair and eyeing me. “Especially little firecrackers in pink.”

  “I’m not flirting with you in front of my parents,” I quietly informed, thankful I’d chosen a table far enough away from the rest of the patrons.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise,” he chuckled, eyes dancing with humor.

  “I’m not so sure I trust you.” I grinned and crossed my arms.

  His grin slipped a little and he looked at me, suddenly serious. “You can always trust me, Sunshine.”

  My skin felt like it had embers beneath it, waiting to be reignited, which was fitting since I was playing with fire. “I’ll be back.” I walked to the counter and told Sy, the seventy-five-year-old day cook, to put on two chicken fajita subs with a side of onion rings. It was one of my favorites, and I remembered that Cruz had enjoyed it last time he was in town. I grabbed two sodas and took my time walking back to the table, settling my jumpy nerves.

  The sound of Cruz drumming his fingers on the table greeted me as I approached. “Feels good to be back here.”

  “Really?” I asked, setting the drinks on the table. “Isn�
��t it a little hokey for you? You know, since you go to such big cities?”

  “Not at all. Sage Springs has something about it that no other place can offer.” His eyes squinted at me as he paused. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely like it.”

  I flashed a smile. “So, you got the town and the estate owners to approve filming at East Truman Sanatorium, huh?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy, even with Ivy’s help, but we’ve been given the go-ahead.”

  “Are most locations this difficult to get the okay from?”

  Cruz shook his head. “No. Ivy’s dad even called me and said we’re only allowed to talk about the sanatorium and the history related to that on the show.”

  I arched my eyebrows in confusion.

  “No talking about anything else,” Cruz said, shooting a look around.

  Ah, the elusive magical spring that we’d both seen proof of last May. “I see.”

  “It’s cool. I get it. I have a job to do, and that’s to set celebrities loose in a reputedly haunted location and let them make fools of themselves. That’s it,” he responded with a shrug. “And that I can do.”

  “Well, you’re very good at it,” I complimented, ready to talk about something else. Like what cologne he used.

  “Thanks,” Cruz answered, running his finger around the rim of his glass. “You know, I do kind of wish I knew what happened to Oliver.” His voice low enough that only I could hear him.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” I mused, taking a giant gulp of soda. “How long are you in town?”

  “Two weeks or so. We’ve got another shoot right after this, and I have a convention to appear at after that.”

  “What, no time to sightsee?” I joked.

  “If only I had time. I guess I’ll just have to busy myself with more enjoyable, sensual things,” Cruz purred, his knee brushing mine under the table.

  “You’re impossible.” But I couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that bloomed at his touch.

  “Oh, I’m very possible,” he answered with a chuckle, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head as he watched my reaction.