by Karen Booth
He ducked down the hall into his room and grabbed a sweatshirt, then went downstairs to spend some time with Joy. When they’d been stuck in the house, it had seemed as though time had stood still. Now that the plow was almost done, it felt as though the countdown had begun, their time together had a terminus. And he would’ve been lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want to squeeze everything from it that he could.
Alex didn’t put much stock in fate. He believed that a person built their own future, their destiny. But he had to wonder if something else was at work when his car slid down that hill and he nearly ran into Joy. Was she sent to him to help him learn to trust a woman again? He hadn’t felt this at ease with someone in years. He hadn’t felt an instant connection like this—a bolt from the blue—in quite some time. He wasn’t sure the one before this came close to matching what he already had with Joy. So one woman had hurt him...he had to stop feeling as though he was doomed to relive his own history.
He could smell Joy’s scone experiment from the staircase, although he wasn’t sure what it was exactly. He only knew that whatever it was, it would be good, he’d eat too many, and with snow no longer an excuse, he’d need to drag his ass to the gym today.
“Smell good?” Joy poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“Amazing. But I can’t figure out what it is. Cinnamon?”
She planted a hand on her hip. “Cinnamon. You honestly think cinnamon was my experiment? Give me a little more credit than that.”
“It’s my inferior olfactory skills, obviously. I’m so sorry.” He bounced his eyebrows and took a sip of coffee.
“You can make up for it by raving about the finished product. I think it’s going to be pretty damn good.” The timer rang and her eyes went wide. “We’re about to find out.” There was so much pure excitement in her voice, it was contagious. It was impossible to be unhappy around her. She pulled the sheet pan from the oven and plated the scones. She settled into the seat next to him at the kitchen island. “Well? Go for it.”
“Aren’t you going to have one?”
“I am. I just want to see the look on your face. It’s the best part.”
A very naughty remembrance crossed Alex’s mind. “Just like the hot tub last night.”
“If my scones are as good as that, you can just declare me better than Julia Child and we’ll call it a day.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to look forward to baked goods this much.” He picked up a scone and took a bite. The texture was just as perfect as the day before, but the flavor was out of this world, and honestly, quite unusual. It was warm and sweet, with a spicy edge. “Ginger?”
“Ginger and...?”
He took another bite, savoring her wizardry with butter and flour, cream and sugar. “Ginger and delicious? I have no clue.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s okay. I was trying to stump you. Yes, crystallized ginger, cardamom, and the secret ingredient is a tiny bit of black pepper. Gives it a little zing.”
“I love it. It’s absolutely brilliant. You should definitely put this in the cookbook.”
She tapped her fingers on the counter and stared down at her plate. “Yeah. It’s not ready for a cookbook. I need to try it out down at the bakery and see how it goes over.”
“You don’t trust my taste buds?”
“Oh, I do. I just think there’s a chance you might be biased. I haven’t slept with any of the bakery’s customers.”
“I would never let sex get in the way of honesty.” Alex was struck by a strong and undeniable realization—he loved the effortless back-and-forth with Joy. He could get used to this.
She got up from her seat and poured herself another cup of coffee. “Do you think you could give me a ride down to the bakery? I can get a ride home from my coworker, Natalie.”
“Of course. But don’t you have a car?”
She started cleaning up the kitchen. “Not right now. I’ve taken a cab a few times, or bummed a ride. I’m afraid to drive one of the family’s cars. I’d rather drive something with a little less oomph. I’m kind of an old lady when it comes to driving.”
“Yeah, I noticed there’s some real firepower in the garage when I put my car in there the other night.”
“Too much firepower makes me nervous.”
“No worries. I’m happy to drive you into town. But first, another scone.”
After breakfast, Alex collected his things, not knowing if he’d be returning to this house. Joy had said not to worry about the sheets on the bed or the towels in the bathroom. She’d take care of it, which he assumed meant the housekeeper would deal with it when she came in to clean. Joy was focused on getting down to the bakery as soon as possible. She seemed almost anxious about it, but Alex understood. He had those days at work, too. Surely, something like a cookbook had to be a daunting task. As far as he knew, she hadn’t even found a publisher for it, nor did she have a literary agent. She was thinking about doing it all on her own, which he found amazing.
He and Joy went out through the garage. On the far end, in a bay with two motorcycles, sat a car-sized lump under a tarp. “This family is even more obsessed with cars than mine. Is there another one over there?” Alex pointed in that general direction.
“Just a pile of junk.” Joy opened his passenger-side door and climbed in.
Alex joined her. “Why would they have junk in their garage? They should have it hauled away.”
“I’ll be sure to suggest that.”
Alex’s phone chimed with a text. “One second. I should check this.” It was from his brother Jonathan, a photo of him on the beach in St. Barts with a very young-looking, buxom woman. Wish you were here. Alex shook his head.
“Everything okay?” Joy asked.
“Yeah. Fine. Just my brother’s misbehaving in St. Barts. This time of year is big for picking up women, but it’s not my scene.”
“Not your scene now? Or never your scene?”
Alex wasn’t quite sure how to answer this. “I’ve gone down there with them before, yes. And I did meet a lot of women. But, you know, it just isn’t smart. You never know who’s going to glom onto you when you have money. And people take pictures with camera phones. Just too much potential for messy situations.”
Joy nodded, but her lips were pressed together in a thin line. “I see.” She started to rummage in her purse.
Alex set his hand on her arm. “Really. That’s not me anymore. That was a long time ago. And surely you understand the need to protect yourself when you have money.”
“Of course. Makes perfect sense.” She pulled back the cuff of her coat sleeve and looked at her watch. “We should get going. They really need me today.”
The drive into town was a relatively quick one, although entirely too quiet for his liking. He should’ve thought twice before making comments about picking up women in the Caribbean. He pulled over at the far end of Vail Village, one of two main business districts. It was like a charming European village, with cobblestone walkways and quaint shops. Also, no cars, which meant he had to drop Joy off here.
“How far is the bakery?”
“About halfway down. On the left. Have you really not seen it?”
He shrugged. “I probably have and just didn’t go in. But now that I know I can get the best scones in town, I’ll make a habit of stopping by.”
“Thanks so much for the ride and everything. It was fun,” Joy said.
Alex put the car into Park. “It was more than fun for me.” He turned to face her, but Joy was looking out the window.
“You’re right. It was more than fun. It was great. I’ll always remember it.” Still, she wouldn’t make eye contact, and that really amped up Alex’s nervousness. How would she react to what he was about to say?
“I’d like to see yo
u again, Joy. Take you out for a real date. Spend some more time together. I don’t go back to Chicago until the 26th.”
“When Christmas is said and done with your family?” She glanced at him, but only for a second.
“To put it bluntly, yes.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He shook his head and finally, out of frustration, reached for her jaw and urged her to look at him. Their gazes did more than connect—they locked. This was yet another version of Joy, one he hadn’t seen before. She seemed sad. “Would it be okay if I called you?”
She sighed, then nodded. It was like she was resigning herself to something. Alex didn’t want her to feel obligated to see him. “Of course it would be okay. I would love it. But I also don’t want you to feel like you owe me that, or like you have to say it just because we slept together. It’s okay if this is goodbye. I’ve said it many times. It’s a lot better if a guy is just up front about it.”
His heart was about to beat out of his chest while he took in her words. So that’s what this was. She thought he was one of those guys, the ones who say they’ll call, but don’t. “I’m not just saying this. I want to see you again and I’d like to call you. I don’t want this to be goodbye.”
He leaned in and kissed her deeply on the lips. That moment when he felt her resistance melt away was sheer heaven. He couldn’t miss out on that again.
She rested her forehead against his, their noses touching. “I don’t want it to be goodbye, either.” She reached for the car handle. “I guess I’ll just say see you later.”
He grinned like a damn fool. “Yes. I’ll see you later.”
She closed her door and he took the chance to watch her walk away, study the particular sway that came with her determined stride. Their kiss was still on his lips, the effect of it still making waves in his body.
Even if it only happened one more time, it would be worth it.
* * *
“So? Who’s the guy with the fancy car?” Natalie asked the instant Joy came through the door at the bakery.
“You saw that?” Joy had been worried about that, but she’d figured she’d be okay since Alex had to drop her off blocks away.
“I just got in a minute ago. I walked right past his car. I would’ve waited, but it looked like you guys were talking about something intense.”
Joy didn’t like calling attention to herself, nor did she like it when someone took notice. Her whole future rested on flying under the radar, earning the money she needed to earn, and getting out of the Marshalls’ house. “He’s just a friend. You know my car still won’t start.” It was her car that was the pile of junk under the tarp in the Marshalls’ garage. Joy had held her breath when Alex mentioned it. If he’d decided to go look? One glance in the glove box and he would know that it was hers. Or more specifically, Joy McKinley’s.
What had she gotten herself into? The whole thing had spiraled completely out of control, and she didn’t know what to do about it now. Alex wanted to see her again, and she wanted to see him, too. Badly. It made her stomach wobble just to think about his touch, his proclivity for fun. The kiss in the car had practically seared itself into her memory. But he deserved better. He deserved the truth. He needed to know that the cookbook was a pipe dream, that she was working at the bakery for an actual paycheck, that she was not Joy Baker, the baker.
Or maybe it didn’t really matter. He was leaving in less than a week and she’d never see him again after that. She hated lying, but sometimes you had to do things to survive. She only had a few more weeks in the Marshalls’ house and she didn’t have the money for a security deposit on an apartment. She might have to ask for an advance from the bakery or maybe ask to crash on Natalie’s couch. Either way, she would keep working to turn things around so she could return to her life as Joy McKinley, distancing herself from her unfortunate history with the Marshall family and putting her career back on track.
“You know...” Natalie looped an apron over her head and gathered the ties behind her back. “My brother is a mechanic. He sometimes fixes cars on the weekend. I could send him over to your place and he could take a look at it. As long as it isn’t anything major, he wouldn’t charge you much money to get it running again.”
That was the exact can of worms she’d been trying so hard to keep sealed tight. She couldn’t go around inviting other people over to the Marshalls’ house, especially not in this town where everyone knew them. “That would be amazing. Let me see if I can get it to start tonight and I’ll let you know. Sometimes it’s just being temperamental.” Maybe she could look up some possible fixes on the internet. She’d repaired all sorts of things over the years of owning that disastrous car. And if not, she’d figure out something else. She always did. She’d push it back down the mountain if she had to.
Joy and Natalie went to work, cranking out a limited version of the daily menu since the bakery had opened late. They were in charge of pastries and cookies. A whole team of other bakers was in charge of bread, which was a separate undertaking and required getting into the bakery in the wee hours of the morning. They worked out of the larger kitchen in the back.
Joy and Natalie, with some help from Bonnie, their boss, had the smaller front kitchen as their domain. Joy loved it because they could see the customers through a glass window. Customers could also see them, and there was a narrow platform for kids to stand on, so that was part of the fun as well. They would stand with hands and faces pressed to the glass, watching in awe as Joy and Natalie did their magic. Even better was the pure satisfaction Joy got when she saw a customer bite into a cookie or Danish and roll their eyes in ecstasy or smile. Making people happy was the number one reason Joy would never find herself doing anything else.
The shorter workday whizzed by. Natalie gave Joy a ride at three, only this time, the drop-off at the house that wasn’t hers was a much quicker affair since Natalie had errands to run. With no snow falling and slightly warmer temperatures, the walk up the hill wasn’t quite as difficult, but in an odd way, she missed the fact that Alex wouldn’t be speeding down the road, about to slide right into her. It had been the start of something special. Something short, but sweet.
As she walked the final stretch up to the Marshalls’ house, she saw it differently. No, it wasn’t hers and it never would be. But something good had happened there, and in a world where there just wasn’t enough good, she could hold on to that. She had memories to live off of, especially if and when things got tough again.
After her usual long shower, she didn’t have the energy to make a real dinner, so she had a peanut butter sandwich and headed up to bed. Alex and work had worn her out. She needed sleep. So badly that she almost didn’t answer her cell phone when it rang. But what if it was Bonnie? Or Natalie? A big part of her hoped it would be Alex.
The smile on her face when she saw his name on the caller ID had to have been ridiculous—her cheeks hurt from two seconds of it. “Hello there,” she answered, cozying up under the covers.
“You have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice.” This was a different version of Alex. Stressed. Not playful and fun. “Seriously. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Oh, no. Rough reentry after our snow days?”
“Yes. Work sucks, in case you’re wondering. My father is impossible. My brothers are goofing off and I’m stuck picking up their slack. I don’t even understand why I do it. I could walk away and I’d still be okay for money.”
Joy couldn’t fathom what that must be like. She’d probably still be working when she was seventy, just like her grandmother had. Still, she knew that Alex worked very hard. Every business article she’d perused had said he was known for his relentless work ethic. “I don’t know. I bet you’d miss being busy.”
“I’d rather be busy doing anything else. Move to Mexico and run a bait shop.�
�
“Don’t drink the water. You’ll regret it.” She was prepared to say anything to improve his mood. She hated hearing him like this. This was not the guy who’d suggested they go run around in the snow in their bathing suits.
He laughed quietly. “I’d probably smell like fish all the time. Not super sexy.”
“I’m sure you’d find a way to pull it off.”
“Maybe a surf shop would be better. In Hawaii.”
“Sounds nice. Maybe I’ll come visit.” What a lovely thought...palm trees, blue skies, ocean breezes and Alex. He’d probably walk around barefoot in board shorts all day, ridiculously tan and even more stunning. Now that would be a life. She didn’t need some big fancy house, but a dream locale would be awfully nice.
A heavy sigh came from his end of the line. “Is it weird if I say that I miss you? I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I feel like I get you. I had a hundred things I wanted to say to you today.”
“You can always text me if you really have something you’re dying to say.” Joy was sure her smile was about seven miles wide. It surely put the one from the beginning of their conversation to shame. “But no, it’s not weird. I miss you, too.”
“Tell me what you miss.” His rich voice and suggestive inflection was about to lead her off on an entirely different fantasy than the life in Hawaii. Or maybe she should just combine the two.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I mean exactly what I said. I’m a man. I have a horribly fragile ego. We all do. Tell me what you miss.”
She had to roll her eyes at that one. Did some men need ego stroking? Absolutely. She didn’t believe it about Alex for a second. He was one of the most self-assured men she’d ever met. He walked around as though he had the world at his feet, and by most measures, he did. But telling him that wasn’t going to improve his day, and she had a strong suspicion that was what he needed more than anything right now.
