Quinn had intended to stay completely impassive, but the word “grovel” made her smile. “Oh? And what does that entail?”
He sank to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk. Was he really doing this? Quinn glanced around—was anyone watching?
“Please, please, please forgive my brutish behavior and allow me a moment to explain it. I do mean explain, not making excuses.”
“Okay, you are forgiven. Just please get up.”
He did, and dusted off the knees of his jeans. She noticed that he was clean-shaven again. Maybe he was one of those guys who shaved every fourth day or something. Maybe she should make a chart so she could keep track of it.
“All right, I’m ready to hear this reason without excuses.”
She wasn’t expecting a sudden curtain of sorrow to drop over his features. “My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s last week.”
Her heart lurched. “Oh, no. Jonah, I’m so sorry.”
“He and I, we’re pretty close. He taught me this business, and he’s always been proud of how I’ve been able to keep it going and the name I’ve made for myself. And I knew his memory was failing, but I didn’t realize it was this bad—I hadn’t seen him in about six months. My folks live in Cheyenne, and I’ve been really busy here. But I took off as soon as my mom called, and that’s where I was when you texted me. It’s only three hours away—I don’t know why I hadn’t been back to see them sooner. It’s not like they’re clear across the country or anything.”
“Stop.” Quinn instinctively reached out and touched his arm. “You went. You were there. You couldn’t have stopped this from happening if you’d gone sooner.”
“I’m used to fixing things. That’s what I do. But this . . .” He shook his head. “Anyway, I need to explain why I treated you the way I did.”
“You had a lot on your plate. I understand.”
Jonah held up his hand. “No, there’s more, and you need to know all of it. When I was sitting there with my mom and dad and then I got your text, I realized what my dad was facing. He’s going to end up like Mr. D. Someday, it will be my dad driving through windows or taking off and getting lost. It’ll be my dad forgetting that he’s an old man and trying to do all the things he did when he was twenty. And I just . . . I just couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t face it. It was like looking into a crystal ball and seeing what the future holds for my dad, and I turned into a big chicken and I shut you out. It’s not your fault, it’s not Mr. D’s fault . . . it’s my own fears and insecurities and not knowing what this will mean for my dad and my family.”
Quinn wiped away a tear that had formed at the corner of her eye. Stupid tear. “That really must have been hard,” she said. “And frightening.”
Jonah nodded. “Very. The thing is, I look at Mr. D and I can see what a great man he is, and I’m worried—what if my dad becomes someone unrecognizable? Mr. D doesn’t have Alzheimer’s, does he? It’s something less severe?”
“He’s been tested for Alzheimer’s. They said he has a form of age-related dementia.” Jonah nodded. “I don’t know enough about this, Quinn. I don’t know what’s in store for us. I just know that I’ve got a lot of research to do, and figuring things out, and that I’ve also got to make things right with you.” His tone of voice changed, became more mellow, less agitated. “I never meant to treat you the way I did. I hope you know that.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure.” Quinn looked down at the flowers again. “I spent a lot of time over the last couple of days muttering bad things about you under my breath.”
“And I’m sure I deserved them.”
“The thing is . . .” She paused, wondering what to say, wondering if she dared to say anything at all. “I don’t know if I have any right to be upset with you. I don’t know what this is. Are you a guy in my cake decorating class, or are you the guy who fixes windows, or . . . what? What is this?” She wiggled her fingers between the two of them. “Maybe I was getting all worked up over something that wasn’t even real, that I imagined—”
Jonah stepped closer, tucked his hand behind her neck, and pulled her to him before she even knew what was happening. His lips were soft and gentle—she was so glad he’d shaved—and tingles zipped down her spine. “I don’t know what this is,” he whispered against her cheek, “but I’d really like to find out.”
“Me too,” she whispered back, hardly able to speak at all. “But . . .”
“But what?”
“You’re smashing my flowers.”
He chuckled and stepped back. “Sorry.”
Just then, Quinn’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket.
“Quinn, you said you’d be right back. They’re swarming this place like insane bees.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” She hung up and cast Jonah an apologetic look. “Hey, I need to go. Kenny’s getting bombarded. Can we . . . can we talk about this more later?”
He grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll come to class early tonight. And maybe stay a little late.”
Quinn climbed back into her car and set the flowers on the seat next to her. She knew she needed to hurry back, but she took a moment anyway to breathe deeply and think about what had just happened. She hadn’t expected that at all—not in a million years—but it was a very nice surprise.
Chapter Ten
By the time Kenny’s shift was over, he was completely exhausted. Quinn had returned to the bakery to find five people in line, and Kenny pouring coffee and bagging muffins as fast as he could go.
“It’s good training for you,” she told him. “It’ll put hair on your chest, metaphorically speaking.”
“If this is what it takes to get hair on my chest, I think I’ll pass. Metaphorically speaking,” he replied.
Quinn put two dozen cupcakes in the cooler for her class to practice on that night, then turned her attention to the orders. She had a big, beautiful wedding cake to do the next day—the kind of thing Mr. D loved. She’d just have to put her own spin on it—she was the boss here now. That thought both thrilled and hurt her.
* * *
Quinn couldn’t help the huge smile that crossed her face when Jonah walked into the bakery that night and winked at her. She felt like they had a delicious secret between the two of them, something exciting and magical, full of possibilities. She’d never imagined that such a thing would have ever been possible with a construction worker, but she had to chastise herself for being judgmental and yes, a snob. She’d been too quick to label him.
“Hey,” she said, walking over to the counter and leaning against it. “I know you.”
“You look pretty familiar to me too. I understand there’s a cake decorating class going on here tonight.”
“Yep, in about an hour.”
“So you’ve got a whole hour to kill, huh?”
Quinn chuckled. “Not quite. I need to clean up and then get the supplies ready.”
“Sounds like you need me to bring you some dinner.”
“Would you? I’d really appreciate it.” She’d been in such a hurry that morning, she hadn’t grabbed anything on her way out the door.
Jonah grinned. “What would you like? I’ll run over to the diner.”
“How about a tuna melt and some tomato soup?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tomato soup? In the summer?”
“Oh, now, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Soup is not just a cold-weather food.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He flashed her another smile, and she watched him walk out of the bakery. Infuriating man. Gorgeous man. Infuriating, gorgeous man. Yes, it was possible to be both, she was quickly learning.
Quinn took out the garbage and wiped down all the counters with a bleach/water solution, then pulled out the frosting and other supplies she’d need for class that night. She preferred everything at room temperature, so leaving them on the counter until her other students showed up was perfect.
“I’m back,” Jon
ah called from out front.
“Okay, just a second.” She grabbed several boxes of butter from the freezer and put them in the fridge. They went through so much of that stuff, she sometimes thought they should invest in a dairy.
When she walked out into the main area, she wondered for a moment if the power had gone out. But then she saw a match light up as Jonah struck it, touching it to the wicks of two taper candles. He’d covered the table with a white tablecloth and placed a small floral centerpiece between the candles.
“Wow,” Quinn said, taking it all in as she walked toward him. “All this for a tuna melt?”
“Well, I didn’t know that’s what you were going to order. This could just as easily have been for a cheeseburger, or a lettuce wrap, or pancakes . . .” He set down the box of matches and came around the table to hold her chair for her.
After she was seated, Jonah spread out the food. He’d gotten a tuna melt for himself as well, but with onion rings on the side.
“I didn’t know if you wanted dessert,” he said, sounding apologetic. “They’d just put out some fresh pie, but I thought I’d better check, you being surrounded by sugar all day long.”
“I do eat a lot of sugar every day—I have to taste all the batter and dough, and then the finished product if we’re trying a new recipe. I do get ice cream or sometimes a pie, things we don’t make here, but I’m more than good for tonight.” She studied his eyes in the candlelight. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate it.”
“I feel like I owe you a million candlelight dinners to tell you how sorry I am for everything,” he said.
“A million dinners? Let’s see—so you want to feed me every night for the next . . . twenty-eight hundred years or so?”
“I don’t think I’d mind. Especially if we ate onion rings like these about twice a week.” He dunked half a ring into a container of dipping sauce, suddenly looking a little shy. Quinn couldn’t blame him—everything had suddenly taken a serious tone, like there were now expectations in their relationship that hadn’t been there before, and she coughed a little bit to cover her own discomfort.
“Well, I think you’re missing out on the soup.” She took a big bite as if to prove her point. After she swallowed, she said, “And I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh, no.” Jonah held up both hands. “Those words usually indicate that I’m not going to like whatever comes next.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest anything bad,” she protested. “Hear me out.”
He shook his head. “Okay, fine. Let me take a deep breath to prepare myself first, though.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow and waited until he was finished gasping like he’d been underwater for too long. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
She put down her spoon and folded her arms on the table. “I’d like to take you to see Maggie and Mr. D. You could find out what life is like for them, how they’ve learned to cope, how they keep their relationship strong. Maggie’s always been really open about their struggles without being a complainer. She could probably give you an insider’s look into how life really does go on.”
“Does she still feel that way even with everything that’s just happened—the window and having to place Mr. D in the care center?”
“Amazingly, she does. She knew things were going to get progressively worse, and she determined a long time ago to make the most of every moment. She’s been upset this last week, but not devastated. She knew what she could expect, and I think that could help you too. I know your dad’s condition isn’t exactly the same, but maybe talking to Maggie would help.”
Jonah appeared to contemplate while he ate the last bite of his sandwich. “I think I’d like that,” he said at last. “I know I have a lot to learn, and what better place to get that education than from someone who’s going through it?”
“Great.” Quinn felt relieved—maybe she’d managed to do something that could really help Jonah. “How about tomorrow night after work?”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up here at six.”
The mention of time had Quinn glancing at her watch. “Oh, wow. Class starts in fifteen minutes. We’d better hurry.” Good manners could wait—she picked up her container of soup and drank the rest, then gathered the trash from the table. Jonah flipped on the lights, snuffed out the candles, and pushed the tablecloth into a plastic sack. Within moments, the room looked like it usually did, and Quinn asked Jonah to set up the long work tables while she grabbed the supplies from the kitchen.
By the time Melba and the others arrived, Quinn wore a fresh apron and stood by the work tables, and Jonah had taken a seat on the folding chairs in front. It was all very nonchalant and innocent.
“Well, there you are,” Helen said, making a beeline for him and taking the seat to his left. “I wondered if you’d disappeared off the planet.”
“I couldn’t let you ladies get ahead of me,” he replied good-naturedly. “What if I had a frosting emergency at work and didn’t know what to do?”
“More than likely, you couldn’t handle the thought of me knowing something you didn’t.” Melba swatted his arm as she sat on his other side, and he laughed.
Class was so much fun that night. Quinn enjoyed watching Jonah banter with the ladies, noticing how his comments to Helen were very guarded and polite. She appreciated that he was careful not to give the woman the wrong idea. ReAnne came out of her shell even more, cracking a few jokes of her own. Everyone laughed and chatted while they worked, and it just felt right having Jonah here, having Jonah in her life.
Whoa—where had that thought come from?
She blinked a few times. Yes, it was very nice to have Jonah in her class. Very nice indeed. She pushed aside the rest of that thought. It was far, far too soon to be thinking about having him in her life. Long-term commitments weren’t even on her radar right now.
* * *
Quinn woke up a few minutes before her alarm the next morning and smiled up at the ceiling. There was something so nice about having soup and a sandwich for dinner—it made her insides all warm, and she’d slept well.
Or maybe it was Jonah making her insides warm.
“It’s just been a while since you’ve dated anyone,” she reasoned with herself while she showered. “Take it slow, Quinn. He’s annoying—remember?”
Funny thing was, she was having a harder and harder time remembering just what it was about him that was annoying. That kiss on the sidewalk had scrambled her brains something major.
She headed into the bakery with a smile on her face. She’d baked the cakes for the wedding order the day before, and now she was ready to decorate it. It would be solid white, with pearls and sugar flowers and draped fondant accents all the way around. Very, very elegant, very expensive, and very Mr. D.
It was hard not to sigh.
By the time Kenny came in, she had all the layers covered in fondant and she was dusting white glitter on sugar orchids.
“Wow,” Kenny said, peering over her shoulder. “Those look real.”
“Thanks. This cake will take me most of the day, though—are you good to do some dessert baking too?”
“What kind of employee would I be if I could only do bread? Versatility—that’s where the big money is.” He pulled his hair back and then washed his hands. “What do you need?”
Quinn directed Kenny through all the various baking tasks from her spot at the kitchen counter. Sugar flowers were one of her favorite things to make, but they were very time-consuming and she had every last minute planned out. By the time Becky came in that afternoon, all the flowers were done, the fondant was draped, and Quinn was putting on the last touches with her piping bag.
“Wow. That’s gorgeous, Quinn.” Becky pressed her hands to her mouth. Quinn’s first instinct was to tell the girl to go wash her hands, but figured she could take one second to bask in the praise.
“Thanks. I wish I could show Mr. D, but pictures will have to do.” She pulled out her phone and ex
perimented with different camera angles.
“So, do they have him locked up in that place, or what?” Becky asked, moving over to the hand-washing sink without a reminder. Huh. Maybe Quinn didn’t really need to babysit as much as she’d thought.
“No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you just sounded like he’d never come back here. And I wondered why.” Becky grabbed a sheet of brownies and went out front to restock the display case.
Quinn’s hands froze in the middle of taking another picture. Mr. D wasn’t a prisoner at the care center—he could probably come and go as he pleased, as long as they knew where he was. What if . . .
“Becky!”
The girl hurried back into the kitchen, her braids swinging to and fro. “What? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. But you’re a genius.”
“I am? Can I get that in writing—you know, to show people?”
“I’ll even write it in frosting on a special cake just for you.” With a big grin on her face, Quinn finished up the cake, feeling another piece of her puzzle click into place.
* * *
When Jonah showed up to get Quinn that night, she was a little anxious. That kiss the day before, the dinner he’d brought her last night—it had been amazing, but she’d started to second-guess herself. Had that all really happened? Did it mean what she wanted it to? Maybe he was now regretting the whole thing.
But when he stepped into the bakery and grinned at her, she knew she was just being silly. His eyes were so warm, she couldn’t doubt what he was feeling. And as soon as she turned over the “closed” sign, he reached out, caught her arm, and pulled her toward him, and she snuggled into his chest. Nothing had ever felt so comforting.
“Hey,” she mumbled into his T-shirt, which smelled like Old Spice and wood shavings. “Are you ready to go?”
“In a minute.” He squeezed her a little tighter, and she didn’t object.
Just Desserts (Main Street Merchants Book 4) Page 12
