Waiting for Forever (Hope Valley Book 8)

by Jessica Prince

  “Good idea, Button. I’ll get right on that.” Dropping the spatula he was using to stir the contents of the sauce pan—man, he was lucky he was handsome—he started toward the fridge, pausing long enough to bend his neck and place a kiss on my temple before making everyone’s drinks.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” Mom said once we were alone in the kitchen.

  I grinned and shook my head good naturedly. “I don’t understand why, after all these years, you two still fight over this almost every night. I figured one of you would have just given up by now.”

  “Keeps things spicy,” she replied, stirring the contents of the sauce pan with the correct utensil. “Tiny arguments like that can be healthy. Keeps a relationship from going stale.”

  My eyes went wide with bewilderment. “So you guys fight on purpose?”

  She turned to me with a cheeky grin. “When you’ve been married as long as we have you do whatever you can to keep that fire alive. You’ll understand one day.”

  On cue, my dad reentered the kitchen, moving straight to my mom and fitting his front to her back. His hands hit her hips, and she let out a little giggle as he bent to press a kiss against the side of her neck.

  On top of the daily arguments about cooking, they’d been like this as well, openly affectionate and loving, for as long as I could remember. That was another thing I’d always wanted; someone who just had to touch or kiss me whenever I was close.

  I loved seeing my folks as they were just then; I wished I had someone who looked at me the way my father looked at my mom.

  “All right,” Mom said, clapping her hands. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”

  I was comfortably full thanks to my mom’s incredible pork roast with mashed potatoes and green beans. Not to mention the soft, silky cream puffs I’d provided for dessert.

  Dinner had been just as enjoyable as always, with one small exception. As it happened every couple weeks when I came to visit my parents, Mom talked about setting me up with some man or another, going on about wanting me to give her grandbabies before she got too old to enjoy them. This week it was another accountant who worked for my dad. She swore up and down he was just my type: young, handsome, well educated, with a great sense of humor.

  There was just one problem. As terrible as my dad was at cooking, my mom was just as bad at fixing me up. I could count the number of bad dates I’d had on one hand, but that was more than enough. Fortunately, Dad was skilled at changing the subject without her even realizing, and the rest of the evening went off without a hitch.

  “All right, guys. I’m off.”

  “Night, Button,” my dad called from the living room where he was, no doubt, camped out in front of the TV watching some game. “Love you.”

  “Love you, back.”

  I’d just slipped my arms into the sleeves of my light green puffy down jacket when Mom came rushing from the kitchen, clutching the plastic container against her chest that held the rest of the cream puffs we hadn’t eaten. It should be said that I might have had a teensy problem baking on a smaller scale, so there was always way too much left over.

  “Before you take off, do me a favor, would you? Run the rest of these over to Jed. If they’re in the house, I’ll eat every damn one, and my thighs can’t afford it.”

  “But . . .” I trailed off as I shot a panicked look out the window, although I didn’t need to. I was perfectly aware of the fact that he was still across the street, because I’d been sneaking glances all evening. “Maybe you should do it later. He has company.”

  She waved off my objection with a firm, “Oh, nonsense.” But I could see something working in her expression. The woman was up to something, and I didn’t have to wait long to find out what that was. “You know Leo; I’m sure it would be no big deal. By the way, I hear he’s finally put himself back on the market.”

  Oh, I was well aware he’d entered the dating game. The rumor was, up until just a few months ago, he’d gone outside of town to get him a little somethin’, somethin’, and it became clear to everyone when his attention shifted from one-night stands to something more, because the first woman he turned his attention to was my friend.

  It hadn’t worked out, mainly because she was still crazy in love with her husband, and they were now living their happily ever after with their adopted daughter, but it had still stung like hell. I mean, after all, I’d been standing right there when he first made his move on Tessa, and I hadn’t even been a blip on his radar.

  “What’s that have to do with anything?” I asked, lifting a skeptical brow.

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied, her tone light and airy. “Just stating facts. You’re single. He’s single. . .” She trailed off, lifting a brow.

  “Mom, don’t start,” I groaned.

  “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. I’m just sayin’ . . . he’s grown up into a very fine man.” She lifted her hands in a placating gesture when I opened my mouth to snap at her. “And that’s the last I’ll say of it. Consider the subject closed.” I knew better than to believe her. If the subject was closed, it was only closed for now.

  She reached up and pulled my hair from where it had been tucked into my jacket, arranging it around my shoulders like she’d done since I was a little girl before placing a kiss on my cheek. “Now run those over and drive safe. I’ll see you soon, love.”

  Before I knew it, I was all but shoved out of the house. The door swung closed and I heard the click of the lock engaging. Mom was getting her way simply by giving me no other choice. Hell, she’d just locked me out of the damn house. I guess I could’ve just taken the rest of the cream puffs home, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she was watching me just then to see if I climbed into my car instead of heading across the street, and she wouldn’t hesitate to call me out on it.

  With a resigned sigh, I started down the walkway, struck with a sense of déjà vu. I’d been to the Drake house plenty of times in the years since Jed’s stroke, but I hadn’t made this particular walk since I was thirteen years old. I could still see fifteen-year-old Leo’s heartbroken face in my mind, clear as day. I could still hear the ping of the bat against the tree and feel his pain as I got closer.

  That magnolia tree, while still thriving and even bigger than it was back then, now had divots in the trunk.

  But most of all, I still remembered exactly how I felt about him, even all these years later. It was as if I was still that same, shy, lovestruck girl I’d been back then. It was ridiculous how just the thought of seeing Leo made my hands tremble so badly I had to clutch the container tighter to keep from dropping it.

  The sun had already begun its decent before I left my parents’ house, making the sky a dark purple as I took the steps up to the front door. The porch light was on, casting everything in a warm, amber glow. I lifted my hand to knock, hoping it was Jed who answered, but when the door swung open, I saw Whitney’s mini-clone standing in front of me with big, inquisitive blue eyes. “Hi,” she chirped, her lips pulling into a beautiful grin.

  “Hi,” I returned, feeling my own face mimic her infectious smile.

  “You’re the lady who owns Muffin Top, right?”

  “That’s right. I’m Danika. But everyone calls me Dani.”

  “I’m Macie. Everyone just calls me Macie. I don’t have a cool nickname like you.”

  My chest warmed as I looked at her. She was just the cutest! “Well, I happen to think your name’s really pretty. And it fits you perfectly.”

  Her beam grew more pronounced, and I could see now just how hard Leo’s life was going to become as soon as his daughter reached dating age. “Your lemon raspberry bars are like, the best!” she said loudly, her enthusiasm making my smile grow even bigger.

  “I’m glad you like them, sweetheart. I was having dinner with my folks across the street, and my mom asked me to drop these off for your grandpa.” I lifted the plastic container to eye level. “They’re my cream puffs. I always make way too many and she thought he’d like the extras.” />
  Her eyes grew round with excitement as she looked at the fat, puffy pastries in the Tupperware. “No way! Awesome!”

  She took the container from my hands and held it up, staring with a look of awe on her face so extreme I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a bit of drool on her chin.

  “I just wanted to drop those by. I’ll leave you guys to—”

  “Baby girl, who’s at the door?” I heard a husky, masculine voice ask from deeper inside the house, before I could finish my sentence. A second later Leo rounded the corner and came into sight, followed closely by his father and son, and just like that, the butterflies that had been lying dormant in my belly woke up.

  “Dani, sweetheart!” Jed called out. “Twice in one night? How’d I get so lucky?” He came up beside his granddaughter, smiling like it had been months since he’d seen me, not just hours, and pulled me into a hug.

  “She brought cream puffs,” Macie decreed, followed quickly by her brother’s, “Sweet.”

  I pulled back, trying to tamp down the fire in my cheeks as I looked anywhere but at Leo. “Mom insisted,” I told Jed. “Said if she kept them in the house, she’d eat the rest of them herself. You take these off my hands, you’ll be doing her a favor.”

  I felt a strange prickling sensation skate across my skin, forcing my gaze to the side where it slammed right into Leo’s. The corner of his mouth was hooked up ever so slightly in a smirk.

  “Well, you’ll get no complaints from me, that’s for sure,” Jed said, and I quickly whipped my attention to him as he placed his hand on Macie’s shoulder. “Go plate those up for us, sugar.”

  She quickly turned to scamper back toward the kitchen when her father spoke. “Get a plate for Danika too.”

  My eyes went wide. “Oh, no. That’s not necessary,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to intrude. I was just dropping them off.”

  “Stop speakin’ nonsense. You’re allowed at my table any time,” Jed insisted.

  “No really, I couldn’t—”

  “Then it’s settled,” Leo declared, his tone soft yet still somehow full of authority. “Baby girl, an extra plate,” he repeated to his daughter. “And I’ll start a pot of coffee.” Then he turned and followed his daughter into the house, leaving me wondering how the hell I’d just been roped into a second dessert with the Drake clan.

  Chapter Three

  Leo

  Danika had been sitting at my dad’s table for all of ten minutes, and already two things were clear. First, my daughter was more than just a little enamored with her, especially since she’d recently discovered a love for baking, and the woman sitting beside her had a special kind of gift for it. And second, my son was more than just a little in love with her.

  It wasn’t all that surprising, really. After all, Danika was gorgeous, could bake like a dream, and was just as sweet at the food she created. In other words, she was every hormonal fifteen-year-old boy’s kryptonite. Even I wasn’t totally immune.

  Her eyes twinkled with every laugh and smile, and she did both frequently. Her eyes were big, taking up so much of her face, they would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on her heart-shaped face, with her delicate cheekbones and pillowy lips, she looked like a china doll. She was beautiful, but not in that classic way my ex was. She had the most interesting face I’d ever seen, a face you could stare at for hours and never get tired of looking at it.

  I swore my boy was about to expire every time she aimed a smile his way or laughed at one of his jokes. An intense crush had formed in those few minutes, and as I sat there, quietly watching with my chin resting in my hand, I couldn’t blame Hardin one damn bit.

  “Have your parents always lived across the street?” Macie asked, her words garbled and her cheeks bulging from the huge bite of the cream puff she’d just taken.

  “For as long as I’ve been around at least,” she answered, her voice soft and silky. She lifted her thumb to her mouth and closed her lips around the pad, sucking off a bit of cream that had fallen from the pastry. Watching those full, cherry lips made something stir deep in my gut.

  “So you’ve known our dad your whole life?”

  She turned a small, shy grin to me. It only lasted for a second before she looked back to my daughter, but it was more than enough. Just one microscopic grin and that stirring grew even more intense. Hell, I was as bad off as my son. “In a way, yeah.”

  “What do you mean?” Hardin asked, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. “You guys weren’t friends?”

  “Well, your dad’s older than I am, so we had different friends.”

  “But you still went to high school together, right?” he continued. “I mean, at least for a couple years. You guys didn’t hang out then?”

  “Oh, uh . . .” She paused, and I got the sense she was trying to figure out the right way to answer that question. “We didn’t really run in the same circles,” she answered diplomatically.

  That stirring tightened into an uncomfortable knot as I thought back to my childhood and teenage years.

  Why hadn’t Danika and I been friends?

  If I was being honest with myself, my memories of her from back then were hazy at best. I knew for certain she didn’t look like the woman sitting in front of me now, but if I’d been forced to call up certain details about her from childhood, I would have failed. That two-year age gap between us seemed astronomical back then, and all I knew for certain was that, by the time she was old enough to hit high school, I’d already been with Whitney. And as a pathetic hormone-riddled teenager, all I cared about was the fact she was letting me have sex with her, so nothing else really registered to me.

  I suddenly felt like the world’s biggest asshole for never noticing this woman properly.

  “I wouldn’t care if we ran in different circles or not,” Hardin declared passionately. “If you were at my school with me, we’d hang out all the time.”

  Her gray eyes grew soft on my boy, nearly making him melt in his chair. “You’re really sweet.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice like she was divulging a secret. “But I was super nerdy back then,” she confessed, wrinkling her nose up adorably. “And I was really shy.”

  “Did you know our mom too?” Macie asked, pulling Danika’s focus her way. Something flashed across her expression just then. Something I couldn’t quite get a read on, but it left an uncomfortable feeling prickling at my skin nonetheless.

  “A little. Not very well. But like I said, we all ran in different circles,” she answered. Her tone was still gentle, but it was almost stilted, like it was a struggle to get the words out.

  “You ever feel like goin’ back, you just let me know,” Hardin said, his chest puffing out a bit. “I play football and baseball, so I’m pretty well known. You’d be hangin’ with the cool kids in no time.”

  Her head fell back on a long belly laugh, the sweet sound of it and the sight of all that long, glossy hair trailing down her back made my gut tighten and my dick begin to swell. Christ, she had an incredible laugh.

  “Thank you for the offer, Hardin, however I think my high school days are long over. But it’s really cool you play the same sports your dad did.”

  I sat up a bit straighter at that, shock steeling my spine. “You knew what I played?”

  Her eyes came to me, her creamy, porcelain cheeks staining pink. “Well . . . yeah.”

  I wasn’t sure why I liked hearing that so goddamn much. My gaze remained locked with hers from across the table, and the longer it held, the darker that attractive blush on her cheeks got. This time she didn’t look away. It was as if she was frozen, at least until my daughter spoke up again. “Baseball season’s starting up soon, and the booster club is holding a bake sale at the first game to raise money for the team. You should totally sign up. Ms. Nona’s making her muffins, and everybody knows her muffins are awesome, but your stuff is even better.”

  “Yeah,” Hardin chimed in, more animated than I’d seen him in quite some time. “I bet
if you sell some of your stuff there, we’ll make a ton of money. Probably won’t have to do another fundraiser for the rest of the year.”

  Danika’s eyes darted back and forth between my kids. “Oh, um . . .”

  “That’s a great idea,” I added. “You should do it, darlin’.”

  “Okay . . . yeah. I guess I could sign up,” she said shyly.

  “Yes,” Macie cried. “You could make those lemon bars like you gave Pop tonight. Those things are the best.”

  “No, your éclairs,” Hardin insisted, looking at Danika like she’d just hung the moon. “Best éclairs in the whole world.”

  Macie shot her brother a killing look. “No, the bars. They’re my favorite.”

  “If you like them, honey, I could give you the recipe,” Danika said, easily snuffing out World War III that was about to happen at the table. She lowered her voice conspiratorially and winked at Macie, saying, “Just as long as you promise to never, ever give it to anyone else.”

  “I promise,” Macie whispered, awe in her voice, like Danika had just offered her a map to a buried treasure or something.

  “Okay then. We have a deal. And they’re really easy. You and your mom could make them together, no problem.”

  My stomach sank as my baby girl’s gaze dropped down to the table, and when she spoke next, all the enthusiasm had disappeared from her voice. “My mom doesn’t really like that kinda stuff in the house.”