“When it comes to relationships, I expect nothing less.” Sam grinned. He’d seen his younger brother through every stupid one-night stand, every Chloe breakup, every crush. Jared’s reputation as a commitment-phobic lothario was no secret to anybody in town.
Except lately something had shifted inside him, and he didn’t know why. The code he’d always lived by, the single-till-I-die persona everyone knew him for, had begun to wear thin, like bad jokes in a seventies sitcom.
With one last gentle punch on the shoulder, Jared said goodbye to his brother and walked out. He made it as far as the sidewalk outside Utz’s before he stopped short. He’d know that curly mop anywhere, and with the grocery store light illuminating her from above, his eyes were drawn to her like the brightest star in the sky.
Mila tilted under the weight of what looked like a thousand grocery bags, teetering and struggling as she exited the grocery store. He hurried across the street toward her.
“I think it’s illegal within city limits to carry more than your own weight in groceries,” he said as he hooked a hand under the straps digging into her shoulder.
A relieved but disapproving grin spread across her lips as she looked up at him. She hated his corny jokes, but her response only encouraged him.
“I’m sick of stopping here every day,” she said. “I thought I’d try to kill a bunch of birds with one stone.”
He snagged another bag from her hand as they headed toward the parking lot together. “You stocking up on recipe-testing supplies?”
“Yeah,” she said. “This one’s totally wonky. I don’t even want to tell you what I’m thinking.”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue, but she simply smiled, her lips curling slowly upward as her gaze narrowed. She was baiting him.
“Don’t make me beg,” he said.
They reached her car, and she slid the key into the trunk lock. He wanted to rib her for the umpteenth time about her lack of automatic locks, but he sensed her weariness tonight. She had every right to be. The girl never stopped.
“Coffee praline,” she said as she lifted the trunk. “I smell nothing but coffee every day of my life, so I’ve always veered away from it, but today it hit me. Something sweet and crunchy and spicy . . .”
He bit his lip, tried to focus on what she said, but all he could do was stare down. Her trunk overflowed with crap—a dozen half-empty water bottles, an old grease-stained towel, three ice scrapers, crumpled fast-food bags, and a variety of discarded sneakers—but on top of all the chaos sat a pair of jeans, a balled-up white T-shirt, and the tiniest scrap of purple panties Jared had ever seen.
His tongue turned to cement. He’d seen hundreds of pairs of women’s underwear in his life, everything from G-strings to granny panties, but he’d never been turned to ash like he was at the sight of Mila Bailey’s thong.
“Yikes,” she said, following his gaze and snatching up the undergarment. She shoved it behind the greasy towel as her cheeks flushed. “I’m practically living out of my car these days.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “You’re that busy?”
She arranged the grocery bags around the clutter in her trunk and then shoved a hand into her curls, flipping them to one side and giving Jared a moment to collect his scattered brain cells. If he gave himself enough space and time, he’d start envisioning what she looked like in that little scrap of lace.
A deep exhale passed her lips as she looked up at him. Her eyelids were heavy. “I’m just tired. On top of working and recipe testing, I’m helping my mom with this food and clothing drive she’s organizing at the church.”
“Your mom asked you for help even though she knows you committed to the bake-off?”
His skin prickled. He often viewed Mila’s life as a tug-of-war, with Nicole and himself on one side and the Bailey family on the other. One team wanted Mila to own her life and follow her heart, while the other team wanted her feet and dreams planted firmly on the ground. He couldn’t imagine monopolizing Mila’s free time when she needed every moment of it to win the contest.
“It’s not a huge commitment,” Mila said. She slammed the trunk closed. “And it’s for a good cause. How could I say no?”
He gritted his teeth. Surely her mother knew that when she asked.
“Hey,” he said. “Why don’t you let me help your mom with the charity thing? I have lots of time.”
She tipped her head back and laughter burst from her lips. “You’re sweet, but I got it.”
“Seriously, I’d be happy to jump in—”
She placed a gentle hand on his chest, the pressure of her touch searing straight through to his thumping heart and stopping the words on his tongue. “Thank you. I appreciate it. But you don’t have to swoop in and save me every time my life gets a little chaotic, okay?”
Didn’t he? He wanted to. He also didn’t want to push her.
“You sure?” he said.
“You and Nicole,” she muttered. “I’m a big girl, all right? I can handle myself.”
He rubbed his lips together, wanting to argue but knowing he shouldn’t. She was right. She could handle herself. The people in her life needed to recognize that about her. Himself included. “Okay.”
She patted his coat, and as she headed toward the driver’s-side door, she called over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
With his heart in his throat, he watched her drive away.
* * *
* * *
Jared’s Camry hugged the winding curves of Route 9, and Vin stared out the passenger window as the scenery sped by in a blur of green and brown. The hipster wannabe wore a pair of Dickies, his boots, and a gray beanie that probably didn’t even keep his head warm.
Amateur.
“So, where do you live full-time?” Jared asked. He’d already decided the guy was from New York or LA.
“Denver.”
Prick.
“Ah, that’s cool. You ski?”
“Yeah,” Vin said. He pulled out his phone, checked the home screen, grunted, and replaced it. “This house you’re showing me has Wi-Fi, right? I’m losing my mind up here without service.”
“Yeah, of course.”
The car sped around a tight turn, and Vin gripped the door. Good. Silly fuck in his silly fucking hat.
“Hey, thanks for this, man,” Vin said, his gaze returning to the window. “You’re right, Utica is really far. And Indigo really wants me close to the property, spending time in town.”
Jared took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. Rent this guy a house, make the commission. It wouldn’t be a lot, but every little bit helped. Maybe Vin would fall in love with the area and want a vacation home come summer.
“It’s no problem,” Jared said. “If you want some info on stuff to do in Pine Ridge, too, I’d be happy to fill you in. I know it looks like a nothing little town, but there are some great bars.”
“Yeah, that’d be cool.” He paused. “Hey, uh, that girl you were with at the bake-off meeting. Mila. You’re not with her, right?”
Jared’s throat turned to sandpaper, and he gripped the steering wheel. “Mila? Uh, no. We’re just friends.”
Vin looked at him, steady gaze staring from behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “Did you ever hook up with her?”
The commission. One wrong word about Mila from this dick, and he’d have to forgo the two thousand bucks. “Nope.”
Vin nodded. “She’s hot.”
Jared steadied himself, waiting for the rest of it. But Vin simply returned his gaze to the pine trees blazing past his window and checked his phone once more.
They pulled into the driveway of the old Fuller house, and it took Vin only a few minutes to walk the spacious home before deciding to take it. After a total gut renovation, the Fullers listed the house at a ridiculously low price despite Jare
d’s advice, and now one lucky renter was making out like a bandit.
“Cool place,” Vin said, eyes glued to his phone. “Too bad there’s no dock. It’d be cool to take a Jet Ski out or something when the weather gets warmer.”
Jared choked back the words threatening the gates of his mouth. Everybody knew only selfish pricks disrupted the serenity of the lake with Jet Skis. “Yeah, too bad.”
Vin walked to the window and looked out over the snowy expanse of lawn to the mountains beyond. “It’s weird looking at mountains like this when I’m used to the Rockies.”
Jared clenched his teeth. He’d heard it so many times from out-of-towners. But the mountains are so small!
“If you’re into outdoor stuff, though,” Jared said, “you’ll love it here. Tons of great hikes, kayaking, fishing.”
“Hey,” Vin said, “just throwing it out there, but Indigo has a whole real estate team. They scout out new property locations, work the deals. Most of the people who work in that department have backgrounds in real estate. Not sure how married you are to this area, but if you ever wanted to move on, I could introduce you to the right people.”
Jared froze, temporarily caught off guard. For all his job searching, hunting across websites and referral services, drooling over TV shows featuring slick agents earning six-figure commissions, he never expected an offer like Vin’s to pop up during a rental showing.
He shoved down the adrenaline suddenly coursing through his veins and forced his face into a neutral gaze. He didn’t want Vin thinking he cared too much.
“Wow,” he said. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Vin said, checking his phone again. The dude was a Wi-Fi addict. “Indigo is based in North Carolina, but it’s a pretty big outfit. Listen, I have to jump on this conference call. You mind if I take it here? It’ll take ten minutes.”
Jared blinked, trying to keep up with the shifting conversation. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“Thanks. And let me know about Indigo. I can make some calls.”
Before Jared could answer, Vin said hello and disappeared into the kitchen.
Jared made his way outside and into his car, cranking the heat and rubbing his hands together against the frigid temperatures. Winter in this town seemed endless, with snow beginning to fall in October and steadily increasing, finally tapering off in April or May.
For a moment, as he gazed out over the matted grass, studded with patches of melting gray snow and framed by spindly trees, he envisioned what his life might look like in a new city. No snow. Cell service whenever he wanted it. New faces, new bars, new restaurants.
New women.
No stars.
His phone buzzed, still connected to the Wi-Fi in the house.
PIE! Requires immediate tasting.
Mila attached a photo of a chocolate pie with a twist of orange in one corner, and a smile curved onto his lips.
He’d spent hours upon hours examining his feelings for her. Before that day at the lake, he’d never even imagined kissing her. And after, he couldn’t imagine anything but. The thing that killed him was that the old feelings of friendship didn’t disappear with the feelings of lust, they just combined to create one giant fireball of overwhelming emotions. It confused the shit out of him.
Chloe had arrived in his life like a Happy Meal when what he really needed was a green salad. But food was food, and a man had to eat. He’d hooked up with her for the distraction. She’d been pissed off when he’d called it quits for good, but ultimately, they both knew it was best. She wanted to get married. He didn’t. End of story.
“Hey, thanks, man.” Vin climbed into the car and shivered against the cold. “Jesus, the weather up here is no joke.”
Jared threw the car in reverse and pushed all thoughts of his love life aside. Maybe he should just go back to hooking up with whoever looked good to him in the moment. That had always worked before.
“While I was in there, I texted that Mila chick,” Vin said. “We’re gonna have dinner this week. Looks like Pine Ridge has more to offer than just bars, you know what I mean?”
Jared’s stomach turned as cold as the temperatures outside. He shot Vin a look, but the guy was staring out the window with a dopey grin on his face, totally unaware of Jared seething beside him.
“Yeah,” he said through his teeth. “I know what you mean.”
chapter four
The heavenly scent of browned crust, caramelized pears, and toasty cinnamon filled Mila’s apartment, and she breathed in like the air itself was a gift from the heavens. Ginger? Maybe the crust needed fresh minced ginger.
As the gently thrumming sounds of Jimmy Eat World cascaded out of her Bluetooth speaker, she jotted a note in her flour-splotched notebook and wiped her hands on her apron. Benny told her he could source pears from a friend with a greenhouse, and he promised to look into a few other options for fruit, but so far everything she’d tasted was lackluster. Grainy pears; chewy citrus; bland, mealy apples. Baking in the winter with only locally sourced ingredients provided a special kind of challenge.
Mila trailed her powdery hands over the notebook, remembering when Aunt Georgie gave it to her. Georgie remained a mediocre cook, at best, but she loved cooking all the same. The rules, the measuring, the experimentation. Like Mila, she loved its solitary nature, the ability to create something from scratch all by herself, without assistance or interference. Something that was all hers.
Mila could still hear Georgie scolding her grandnieces to “get the hell out of the kitchen!” The old woman didn’t have a sentimental bone in her body—at least not that she’d ever revealed to Mila—but her sharpness held truths. Truths a girl could trust.
Mila’s doorbell rang, and she checked her wall clock as her heart leaped into her throat. Vin couldn’t be picking her up yet, could he? Only five forty-five, and she still had to shower.
Uneasiness stirred inside her. She’d given Vin excuses for the first two dates he’d suggested earlier in the week, and by the third option, she realized she had to say yes or put an end to the whole thing. Her rational mind couldn’t find a reason why she shouldn’t go on a date with a perfectly pleasant guy who seemed interested in her, and so she gave in. Dinner. In town. An excuse to put on makeup and wear heels and get to know someone who might eventually save her from her post-Marty drought.
“One meal,” Nicole had urged. “He seems like a perfectly nice guy.”
Perfectly nice. So why did Mila’s stomach bubble and pop like sauce boiling over?
She hit the buzzer and a minute later opened the door to find a grinning Jared.
Relief flooded her veins.
“Hey.” She smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“You sent me that photo. The pie? Don’t tease me with baked goods, dude.”
“The photo I sent you almost a week ago?” Mila said. Typical Jared. On his own schedule. Always. “I gave that pie to my mom, and my parents have probably long since polished it off.”
“Shit. Sorry I didn’t text you back.” He ran a hand over his expertly coiffed hair before sniffing at the air. “Something else smells pretty good in there.”
She pursed her lips and allowed herself a moment to take him all in. The sweetness in his gaze that turned steely when he closed deals. The sharp jaw formerly hidden by pubescent pudge. The scar over his left eyebrow from the time they’d ridden their bikes down a dangerous trail and he’d flown over his handlebars, sailing forehead-first into a gnarled oak tree.
Her friend Jared. The face she’d always known. The face she’d relied on over the years to put her worried mind at ease. The face that, more recently, made her stomach fizz in a very different way.
“All right,” she said. “Come on in.”
He beamed and brushed past her on a wave of spicy cologne. It took all of thirty seconds for him to strip off his coat, kick off his s
hoes, and settle down at the kitchen counter with an eye on her cinnamon pear pie.
“It just came out of the oven,” she said. “So you have to give it a few minutes. And I have to take a shower. When I’m done, we’ll cut it, all right?”
“Perfect. I’ll just wait here and will it to cool down with mental telepathy. That is, if this ridiculous music doesn’t distract me.”
Her playlist had skipped to “Sugar We’re Going Down,” an emo song featured prominently at every Pine Ridge High School dance for years on end, and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare touch my music. The pie needs to be surrounded by good vibes as it cools. I’ll know in the first bite if you messed with it.”
Wanting to spend a few minutes with Jared before Vin arrived, she sped through her normal shower routine and avoided shaving her legs, a silent promise to herself that no matter how charming Vin might turn out to be, she’d made the decision ahead of time that sex was off the table.
She dried off in the bathroom, tucked the towel around herself, and scurried into her bedroom. As she rounded the corner, a looming male figure appeared, and she yelped.
“Dude!” She clutched the top of her towel to keep it from slipping as Jared turned over his shoulder. His eyes blazed as if she’d shocked him and not the other way around.
“Sorry!” he said. “I was just looking at your paint job. You should let Sam come in and redo this. Is this lead paint? Did you ever get that checked out before you moved in here?”
“Holy hell.” Her heart hammered against her ribs as she struggled to catch her breath. “You scared the shit out of me. You’re checking out the paint job? Get the hell out of here so I can get dressed.”
For one quiet moment, he stared at her. His eyes and smile softened, and he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The simple gaze lit her skin on fire, and she twisted the towel between her fingers to make sure it was still there and she wasn’t standing stark naked in front of him. That’s what it felt like. Like he could see right through her.
Sweet Love Page 5
