by Julia Bright
“Yeah, more like five or four. It’s really a small gathering. I…it’s small.”
Her heart was racing and her brain buzzed. This wasn’t a date, he was just having a party with other people. He was so nice he'd probably invited her out of some misplaced guilt, but she wanted to get to know him a little better. “Sure. What flavor cake?”
“What is your favorite?” Brent hadn’t taken his eyes off her in the last minute and she felt a little self-conscious. Did she have something on her face? Maybe she’d rubbed a little muffin batter on her cheek.
“Mocha Love Cake is my all-time favorite. But it’s really chocolaty, and it’s well, decadent. Are you sure?” He would probably have a huge sugar rush if he ate a slice. If his friends were anything like him, they wouldn’t be able to eat the sugar laden treat. She loved her Mocha Love cake, but a little went a long way.
“Yes, I’m positive.” Brent gave her a heart stopping smile, and she warmed even more.
“Okay, so I’ll have the cake ready for you tomorrow morning, or I could just bring it, I guess. If that’s okay.”
His lips turned up even more and his eyes looked so bright they mesmerized her. Why couldn’t she find a guy like Brent? She only got guys who wanted to use her for her food or make her change to fit some ideal woman they’d made up in their head.
“That would be great,” Brent said.
“Do you want any words like happy birthday anywhere?”
“No, just the cake and yourself.”
“Okay, sounds good.” She rang him up, and he paid for the cake, again dropping his change into the tip jar.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. And thank you for tipping so generously, I really appreciate it.”
Brent’s cheeks seemed to turn a little pink. He scrawled an address on a slip of paper and handed it to her. He turned, looking back once as a group of young mothers entered the shop. After a few seconds, Brent came back in to grab his forgotten umbrella. He gave her a quick wave before walking out into the rain. At one point, he’d told her what he did for a living. If she remembered correctly it had something to do with real-estate, but she wasn’t sure. She still believed it was a missed opportunity with the movie thing.
Her day was a mixed bag. She’d been stiffed for one cup of coffee and a muffin. The extra money Brent had dropped in for tips covered the cost. She hated taking her own tips and using them to pay for her supplies, but that’s why she was the boss. She would never take her employees tips though. That would be wrong.
Her spirits stayed up for most of the day. Excitement filled her at the prospect of spending time with Brent. Since Mia wasn’t there, she spent most of the afternoon baking and preparing dough. That evening, she made Brent’s cake and thought she would decorate it in the morning.
As she was working on his cake, a horrible, terrible thought struck her. What if that woman who worked out with Brent was there as his girlfriend? She was fairly sure they weren’t married, but how would she know. All he did was buy coffee from her. Showing up at his party was so stupid. They didn’t have a relationship, just a casual acquaintance. Oh God, what if she’d misunderstood him and he hadn’t asked her to the party because he wanted to spend time with her? Maybe he wanted her there to cut the cake and serve it to his friends. She should tell him something had come up. He was way out of her league. A stray thought about going to the gym and getting in shape entered her mind. Would she find someone then?
Her life had stagnated in the love department. Stagnated was putting it kindly. Even the dating application she’d loaded onto her phone hadn’t netted her anything other than guys who weren’t suitable, and lowlifes who only wanted her to post photos of her naked breast and other body parts. The worst was a guy who requested she email him a few shots of her feet, nails painted orange, flowers positioned between each toe. She deleted the dating application after the foot incident.
Exercising was in order. She would enlist Brent and beg him for help. Maybe he could teach her how to get in shape. The man probably knew a trick or maybe he would be inspiration enough.
Since it was Saturday, Brent didn’t come in to the store. Michael was on the floor while she dealt with a delivery driver who flaked and didn’t drop off the right package which held the special vanilla and cinnamon she’d ordered from a supplier in Vermont. She wasn’t happy about the mix-up and had to scream to get the delivery company to send out a currier to drop the supplies.
She’d planned on decorating Brent’s cake at the store, but a little after one in the afternoon, a church tour bus broke down outside her shop and she was slammed with customers. After two women from the broken-down bus ate a cookie from her shop, their friends streamed in, buying all her cookies, muffins, and her special frittatas she’d made that morning. They cleared her out of everything in the pastry shelf and most of her reserves. Her coffee pot was empty though she’d just brewed a huge pot minutes before and she had no tea bags left in the store. They’d thrown off her numbers, eating and drinking everything she had prepared.
Luckily, Michael understood and had stayed late so they could make two batches of cookies, the dough for bread, a few dozen cupcakes, and scones. Brent’s cake somehow got finished, but it wasn’t her best effort. She hoped the people at the party would cut her a break.
By the time she left the store, she was exhausted and running late. She smelled of sugar and vanilla, but she had enough time to drop by home and shower before Brent’s party. It had been a crazy week, and she’d enjoyed herself. Her Yelp ratings had gone up after the group on the bus all left her glowing reviews. It was the perfect birthday present though none of them knew it was her birthday weekend.
Before leaving her house, she grabbed a bottle of pinot grigio. She prayed Brent wasn’t using her as the server for his party. Perhaps she should just drop the cake and leave. If he’d already picked up the cake from her store, she knew she would have stayed home since doubt had its claws in her. She had no business going to this party.
Brent lived on a quiet street with cute bungalows and bushy trees. The yards were well maintained, and the area looked lovely. This wasn’t an inexpensive neighborhood like hers, the people who lived here had money of some sort.
The street was empty in front of Brent’s house and she guessed no one else had shown up yet. The lack of other guests made her stomach twist. Again, the thought hit her that he’d asked her here early so she could set the cake up for the real guests.
She checked her lipstick in the mirror, worried she looked too plain. Her throat closed with emotions and she tried to laugh off the despair. He wasn’t into her and this wasn’t a date. Maybe he’d have a friend who was interested if she got in shape. She rolled her eyes. Why did she do this to herself? She was fine being single, and she needed to stop getting her hopes up.
After a short pep talk, she grabbed the cake box and hustled up the walk to Brent’s place. A quick excuse lingered on the tip of her tongue, ready for use if she needed an escape.
Long ago, she’d mistaken another chef’s friendliness as interest. Embarrassed didn’t even come close to how she’d felt when he’d laughed at her. This was probably like that. With each click of her heels on the concrete walkway You shouldn’t be here echoed through her mind. Guys weren’t interested.
The door opened a few seconds after she rang the bell. Brent greeted her, his smile wide. He looked amazing in a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows. The blue jeans he wore weren’t too tight, but they hugged his thighs nicely.
“Hey, you’re right on time,” Brent said.
“Oh, is everyone else running late?” She stepped in, impressed with the dark wood furniture and jade green upholstery on the chairs in the living room. A beautiful blue vase was on the entry table and a matching one sat on the coffee table in the den. “Nice house.” She glanced around, searching for photos of him with a woman. There weren't any to find on first look.
“Thank you,” Brent said as he reached o
ut and took the cake. “Come in. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Oh, I brought a bottle, let me run out and grab it from my car.” She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten the wine.
“There’s no need. I’ve already opened a bottle. The weather is cool out so it won’t get too hot.”
“And if we drink your bottle, I can always go out and get it.”
Brent’s shoulders went stiff, and he turned to face her. “About that.”
Oh no, she’d already made a fool of herself, assuming he wanted her to stay for the party. He was just being kind, nothing more. She imagined the next words out of his mouth would be to tell her she was there to serve the food and leave. Though she’d prepared for this, pain knifed at her heart. The excuse she’d been thinking about using fled. “It’s okay, I can go,” she said, unsure how she would ever face this man again. She hated losing such a good customer, and she knew she would lose him because why would he ever come back to her shop after this.
Brent shook his head. “No, God no. I…um.” He closed his eyes and blew out a sharp breath. “I don’t know why, but for some reason I suck at this.”
She narrowed her gaze and stepped closer. “At what?”
“I…no one else is coming.”
“Oh, why not?” For a moment, she wondered if his other guests were angry he’d invited her, but she didn’t even know any of his friends so how could they be angry…unless it was that woman he worked out with. She’d met her.
Brent shook his head and gave her a weak smile. “No, I’m explaining this badly.”
She paused, waiting for him to say more but he was silent. “Okay, so just tell me.”
He moved away from the door and she followed him to the kitchen where he set the cake down before turning to face her. He was standing on the other side of the counter from her and she had the odd thought she really liked his kitchen with his wide island and double ovens. Too bad she would most likely never see it again.
He placed his hands on the countertop and then suddenly reached for the wine, knocking over a glass. It didn’t break but rolled close to the edge. He grabbed it at the last minute, saving it from crashing to the floor where it would have shattered on the tile below.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
He shook his head and looked down at the glass he was still holding in his hands. “Yes, no. I’ve been trying to ask you out for the last month and when I heard it was your birthday, I made up the party.”
She sucked in a breath and reached up, grabbing onto the chain around her neck. “Like a date? You’ve tried to ask me on a date?”
“Yes.” Brent looked like he was in pain. His brows bunched and his lips thinned.
She came around the counter and placed a hand on his arm. “Why didn’t you ask me out?”
His gaze met hers and she almost took a step back from the pain she saw in his eyes. “You said no.”
His words may no sense. “Wait, what? I never said no to a date with you.”
“Okay, you didn’t say no, but you didn’t say yes. I tried, but each time…um, you blew me off and I couldn’t take another no. It…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I suck at this.”
She reached for the wine and poured herself a big glass. She took a sip, her mind churning over his words. “You were asking me out?” She glanced up at him, trying to catch up to the information tossed her way. “When were you trying to ask me out?”
“The concert.”
“What?” She took another sip of wine, not even tasting it. “You asked me to go to the concert with you?”
“Is it so hard to believe? I know I’m not—”
“Not what? Incredibly sexy?”
Brent shook his head and opened his mouth then closed it. “Wait. You think I’m sexy?”
“Please, you’re like the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Well, I think you are though I haven’t seen you without clothes—not that I want to see you without clothes on. Oh, I didn’t mean I don’t want to—Oh God, did I say those words out loud?”
Brent laughed, and she froze. Heat filled her, but the comedy of the situation took over and she rolled her eyes and giggled.
“I guess I walked right into that one.” She took another sip of her wine and met his gaze.
He lifted his brows and nodded. “Sorry, but yeah, you did.”
“So is this a date then?”
“I panicked. Mia said it was your birthday and then I saw the cakes so I ordered one. It was stupid. I should have just asked you out, but I wasn’t sure how.”
She drank a gulp of wine, trying to come to terms with the fact Brent, the sexiest man she’d ever met, had asked her out…well, kind of. “Um, you could have just asked.”
Brent poured himself a glass of wine and motioned for her to follow. They headed outside where fairy lights hung from the trees. Brent had turned them on though the sun wasn’t down yet. It looked nice, and she could only guess how romantic it would be out here once the night turned dark. There was a table and chairs along with two lounge chairs in the yard. He pulled out a chair at the table for her to take a seat. He settled in a chair next to her and she turned slightly, studying his profile.
“I really didn’t get that you ever once tried to ask me out. I totally missed the fact you were interested in me.”
Brent sipped his wine then put the glass down. “I shouldn’t be drinking this.”
She glanced up from her glass, worried he thought she shouldn’t drink either. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t eat the cake in there either, but I’m going to have a slice. I’m training for a race and I’ve been working hard to make sure I do my best. The wine, the cake, I like both, but it’s not something my coach would approve of.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You have a coach? Of course you have a coach, I mean, look at you.”
His cheeks turned pink. “Really, he’s just a guy at the gym where I work out. His name is Dan. He has this Ironman plan which doesn’t involve wine or cake.”
She felt a little guilty. “You shouldn’t have a slice then. I don’t want to throw you off your game.”
He gave his head a short shake. “Hey, I’m having a taste of your cake. It looks good and sweet and perfect, and I can’t wait to get it on my tongue.”
The glass was halfway to her mouth, and she paused, staring at Brent, wondering if he realized his words could be twisted to sound sexual.
He shook his head. “That didn’t come out right, did it?”
She took a sip of the wine. “No, we’ve both blundered.”
He lifted his brows and shot her a look that was so cute her heart squeezed. “So, maybe we start over.”
“What do you suggest?” She hadn’t eaten anything for dinner and knew the wine would go straight to her head, which may be a good thing based on how the evening was going.
Brent had wanted to ask her out. His interest freaked her out because the man looked amazing, and she was normal, less than average was how she saw herself.
“I have dinner ready, and no I didn't cook. It's something I just picked up. I'm intimidated, you know, with being such a good cook and all.”
She laughed, and he looked a little hurt. “You're intimidated.”
“Yeah, I don’t really cook much. It’s been hard eating clean for this race because I can’t just go pick up food at a restaurant. I have to make sure it’s good food that doesn’t have preservatives or added fat.”
“Well, then my cake will blow you away.”
He chuckled. “You’re making me blush.”
“We can’t get away from it, can we?” She felt lighter, happier. Brent was flirting with her and it felt good.
“Come on inside and I’ll heat dinner.”
“Sure.”
Brent held open the door, and she stepped in then turned and caught him staring at her butt. She lifted a brow and he glanced up, his lips turned up and his eyes sparkled.
“I just have one quest
ion?” Brent asked. His gazed turned serious, and she worried he would toss in some weird contingency like other men or women, or something else.
“What?” her voice was whisper quiet.
“Are you dating anyone?”
She missed a step and almost stumbled. “You’re joking, right?”
His shoulders slumped. “You probably are, aren’t you?”
A laugh escaped her lips. “God no.”
“No?” His eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face. “Do you have something against dating?”
She shook her head and stopped beside the kitchen counter. “No, it’s just been a while since anyone who didn’t want to change me showed interest.”
He crooked up an eyebrow as he opened the refrigerator. “How do you mean? Like what do they want?”
She chuckled, watching as Brent pulled a bowl from the refrigerator and popped it into the microwave.
“Some of the guys who’ve asked me out recently, let’s just say they weren’t the cream of the crop.”
“You’ll tell me if I’m not measuring up.”
There was no question, Brent would measure up. She narrowed her gaze and studied him as he pulled a platter of meat out of the oven. Could he really believe he wouldn’t measure up or was he pulling her leg? She decided to ignore his statement and tell him about the men who had asked her out.
“There was one guy who said he would date me if I gave him pastries from my store. And I’m not talking about a onetime thing, he wanted me to supply him with food on a daily basis. Then there was the guy who asked me to get contacts before he'd go out with me. Then one guy said I needed to straighten my hair.”
“What? That’s crazy. You look so cute in your glasses and I like your hair.”
Shock pulsed through her. So many men had told her she didn’t fit their idea of perfect beauty she believed she was hopeless. “I tried online dating but deleted the application when one guy wanted me to paint my toenails orange and take photos of my feet with flowers between my toes.”
Brent put down his oven mitts and leveled a serious gaze at her. “That’s too much. Green or red nails I could understand, but orange. What was he thinking?”
