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The Accidental Kiss

Page 17

by Heatherly Bell


  She motioned for him to remove the earbuds and flashed him a big grin. “If you’re hungry, we’re serving lunch now.”

  He stood and strode to the counter. Charley saw he was younger and thinner than she’d initially thought. Even though he was the picture of a Silicon Valley techie, dressed in jeans and a white polo shirt, she’d thought he might be older from a distance. But he looked to be right about her age with dark, closed-cropped hair, wearing half-rim eyeglasses over almond-shaped eyes.

  In another reality she’d run upstairs to get Milly and do a little bit of old-fashioned matchmaking. Next to men in kilts, Milly loved techie nerdy guys. But, as Milly continually pointed out, she was a little busy at the moment.

  “Specialty paninis.” She swept her hand over the glass case. Did this seem pushy? She hoped not.

  “Looks good.” He pushed his eyeglasses up his nose, then pointed. “What’s that one?”

  “That’s my personal favorite. Smoked salmon panini with crème fraiche over a bed of spring mix greens.”

  “Whoa. Okay, I’ll have that one.” He pulled out a wallet from his back pocket. “Didn’t even know you guys were serving lunch now. Milly never did.”

  “How do you know Milly?”

  She reached for a dish to plate and drizzled some of the olive oil across in a circular motion. Then she gently placed the panini in the middle and added a few more sprigs of green for décor. He went eyebrows up when she presented it to him. Frankly, too many food establishments didn’t take enough pride in presentation. Shame. To some people this was just a sandwich, but every dish could and should be a work of art.

  “Milly and I were pretty close for a while,” he answered.

  “I’m her sister, Charley.”

  “Oh, yeah. She talked about you a lot. You’re a traveling chef. Right?”

  “Right.” Who was this guy? “And what’s your name?”

  “Henry Hunter. Milly and I lost touch when I moved down to San Diego for work, but we spent a lot of time together last November.”

  Last November? Charley sucked in a breath. Last. November. “Um. A-and you two haven’t talked at all since you moved?”

  “A few text messages and emails here and there, but Milly stopped responding after a while. I can’t blame her. Long-distance relationships. I got busy and I imagine she got busy, too.”

  One might say that. “She did.”

  “What’s she been up to?”

  Oh boy. She wanted so badly to tell him all about Milly’s “production.” Tell him he was actually an executive producer without knowing it. Tell him everything. Drag him upstairs and just show him.

  “She’s…she’s got a new project going on and it demands a lot of time away from the bakery.”

  “Ah. Well, tell her I said hi.”

  “Sure. You two should probably catch up sometime.”

  “We should. I’ve been in town, but I’m leaving early Sunday morning.”

  Charley managed to resist dragging him by his collar upstairs. But just barely. “Please stop by again. I’m sure she’d like to see you. I’ll tell her you dropped by when I see her.”

  In about two minutes.

  “Thanks.” He paid and put his wallet away. “It would be good to catch up.”

  “How about Saturday?”

  “Tomorrow?” He blinked. “Um, sure.”

  “I hope you enjoy.” She jutted her chin at the panini.

  “I don’t see how this can fail me.”

  He went back to the table and his laptop to begin the last few hours before his entire world changed.

  And as it turned out, Charley did feel sorry for him.

  27

  “Sometimes miracles just take a little time. Mine took about 13 years.” ~ Charley Young

  Lunchtime customers continued to arrive. Padre Suarez, followed by Mrs. Luna, and unfortunately, Jenny and Sean. Padre Suarez could not be persuaded to try anything but his usual crème-filled Danish, Mrs. Perez said the panini’s looked great, but she’d been saving up her calories all week for a Danish. Sean and Jenny were foaming at the mouth to try the Paninis. Sean to criticize them, no doubt, and Jenny to agree with him. But for the first time in a while Charley didn’t care what Sean thought. He was a piece of…well. Coral had raised her not to even think such nasty names of anyone.

  “I’ll take the smoked salmon and Jenny will have the marinated chicken. We’ll share and this way I get to try two of your creations.” Sean smiled as he paid and didn’t bat an eye when she handed over her presentation.

  “Ooh, fancy.” Jenny took her plate to a table.

  “That thing you did the other night? Not cool,” Charley hissed.

  “I was trying to do you a favor.”

  “I know exactly what you’re trying to do. You can see that I’m finally happy. Maybe this relationship will work out, and you won’t have a back-up woman any longer. I’ve got news for you. I was never going to be your back-up woman.”

  “Ouch.” He clutched his chest, like she’d just pierced him with a sword.

  But he was still smiling which irritated her to no end. “And by the way, my butt is not too big, in any pants! I’m curvy, not a stick figure. Never trust a skinny cook! Sometimes, Sean, you’re an ass, and I’m glad I can finally tell you that.”

  He flashed her a sly grin. “Should you really be telling me all this before I taste your paninis?”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t care what you think.”

  He opened his mouth then closed it a couple of times.

  “I know I’m a good chef, and so are you, okay? I get that, but I don’t need you to like me. Sure, maybe desserts aren’t my specialty, but I know food. I love food. And people are going to love my paninis. You’ll see.”

  Henry raised his hand. “Big fan over here.”

  “Thanks, Henry.”

  “Well, well. I don’t know how we got to this Charley Young but I think I like her,” Sean said.

  Oh, sure he did. Then again, it would be no time at all before he’d find someone else to intimidate. There were plenty of wide-eyed newbie sous chefs coming on board every week to learn the business. They, as she did, would see the much more experienced man of the world and think his opinion meant everything.

  Thank goodness I’m over that.

  “I’m headed to Paris as I planned,” Sean said.

  Charley nudged her chin in Jenny’s direction, who was giving Sean a little finger wave. “Does she know that?”

  “She will.”

  Charley almost felt sorry for Jenny. She wondered if Sean had already started criticizing. He found fault with everything. Except himself, of course. To think that she’d once found him attractive. Sexy. The only explanation was that she’d been Dylan-deprived for so long that she’d forgotten what a real man looked and behaved like. He certainly didn’t get off making a woman feel small and…unnecessary.

  And she was never going to let anyone make her feel that way again.

  “I’m calling it,” Charley said, reaching inside to sell her very last sandwich. “Lunch is a resounding success!”

  “Woohoo!” Naomi spun around in a circle and landed on her knees with her arms splayed wide. “Ta-da!”

  She was met with applause, and a little hysterical laughter, from their remaining customers.

  “Spread the word, everyone. Sunrise Bakery is now serving lunch.” Charley turned to Naomi. “You can start cleaning up and I’ll go check on Milly.”

  Charley found Milly in the kitchen by the French press. She wore her red bathrobe, belt loosely tied just above her protruding belly. Star Wars knee-high socks, plaid boxer shorts and a flowery tank top so tight on her now that it seemed to be squeezing the life out of her boobs.

  “Um, okay.” Charley joined her in the kitchen. “Did you just get up?”

  “I sleep when I can.” She scratched her head. “Once the baby comes, I’ll never sleep again.”

  “You’re exaggerating.” Charley dug into th
e fridge. She needed to stock this better for Milly. “Do you want an…um, frittata for brunch?”

  “Please don’t talk to me in Italian before I’ve had the only drop of caffeine I’m allowed to have.”

  “It’s an omelet.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” Milly poured her decaf into a mug.

  Charley whipped up eggs, adding basil, sliced grape tomatoes, half and half cream and mozzarella cheese.

  While Milly sipped from her mug, Charley chose her next words carefully. “One of your friends dropped by today. I’ve never met him before but he introduced himself.”

  “Oh, yeah? Who was it?”

  “Henry Hunter.”

  Milly dropped her coffee mug, the dark liquid spilling all over the hardwood floor.

  “Milly! Are you okay?”

  She winced. “I think I’m having a cramp.”

  “Go sit down, and I’ll take care of this.” Charley picked up the ceramic pieces of Milly’s “Pilates? I thought you said pie and lattes” mug and mopped up the coffee.

  She quickly put together the frittata and for once ignored presentation. She found Milly on the couch, eyes watery. “I’m not hungry.”

  “What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Should I call Dylan? Should I call 911? Should I drive you to the hospital?”

  “Calm down, that’s what you should do.” She gave the frittata a disgusted glimpse and Charley fought not to take offense. “As long as I don’t have another cramp, I think I’m okay.”

  “Well, think isn’t good enough.” Charley went hands on hips. “I mean…I can’t deliver a baby for you. I’ll do a lot of things for you, but I refuse to deliver a baby. That’s where I draw the line at this sisterhood thing.”

  Milly rolled her eyes. “You won’t have to deliver the baby. I promise if it comes to that, we’ll call Dylan. Or 911.”

  “Just call 911. Or I’ll call 911.” Her heart beat so fast she was fairly sure she was about to stroke out. “Who should call 911? Which one of us?”

  “No one should right now!”

  Charley let out a shallow breath and slumped down in a chair. “This all happened because I mentioned Henry.”

  Milly did the lip quiver thing and her eyes were far too shiny.

  “He’s the one, isn’t he?” Charley spoke softly.

  Milly nodded. “I didn’t want him to know.”

  “Why? I mean, I don’t really know him, but he seems like a super cool guy.”

  “He is.”

  “Then why? Why won’t you tell him?”

  “Because he’s a good guy!” Milly rubbed her eyes. “He’d want to marry me out of obligation. But I don’t want him to marry me because I’m pregnant, and besides I can’t move to San Diego.”

  “Well, maybe he could move back here.”

  “No. I don’t want him to do that. It’s a really good career opportunity for him and he deserves it.”

  “But what about you? What do you deserve?”

  “I know I don’t want to leave Miracle Bay. Especially now that you’re staying.” She took a breath. “Wait. You are staying. Right?”

  “Whether I stay or go doesn’t matter. You have to tell him.”

  “I know.”

  Finally.

  “You don’t have to get married and you don’t have to move. But you’ll feel terrible if you don’t tell him, or if he should find out some other way. If he comes back after the bean is born, he’s bound to do the math. I bet math is kind of his thing.”

  “You’re right. He’s here so I’ll tell him.”

  “He’s leaving Sunday. But I have a feeling he’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “You have a feeling?” Milly wrinkled her nose. “Are you psychic now, too?”

  “Um, no. I used the great power of language. I asked him to come by.”

  “Great. I guess I should have expected that.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. That’s up to you. If you liked him this much, why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”

  “Because I was happy for about five minutes. A month. That’s all we dated, anyway. Something told me it wouldn’t last.”

  “Aw, Milly.” Charley reached over to squeeze her hand.

  “That month we were together was like a dream. Stuff like that just doesn’t happen to me. But I was such a dummy. One night, I…we…forgot all about protection.”

  Nope, that didn’t sound like Milly at all. “I was wondering about that.”

  She quirked a brow. “That’s how passionate he is.”

  Charley absorbed that knowledge and then decided she didn’t want the picture in her head. “Sounds like he’s worth another shot.”

  Milly’s gaze swept over her humongous belly. “But I’m not at my best right now.”

  “If he loves you, he won’t care about the big belly. That is his bean in there.”

  “Is he going to hate me forever for keeping this from him for so long?”

  “I don’t know, but I think that’s a chance you’re going to have to take.”

  28

  “Each month has an average of 30-31 days, except the last month of pregnancy, which is 1,453 days.” ~ meme

  Dylan decided that the best place to celebrate his impending business venture with Joe was Juan’s. They let Marco come along for kicks, because…the whole brotherhood thing. They were seated at a booth sharing a plate of nachos, Joe and Marco across from Dylan.

  “Maybe you should change the name,” Marco offered. “From Surf’s Up to Reyes of the Sea or some such thing.”

  “Reyes mean royal, not king,” Dylan corrected with a smirk. “And that doesn’t have as nice a ring to it.”

  “Plus, there’s Eddie. He’s a big part of this,” Joe said, digging into the nachos.

  “How are you going to do this, bro?” Marco set his beer down and leaned back. “Fit it in between shifts at the station, home renovations, and work at the marina? And there’s also Charley. I hear she’s taking up a lot of your time.”

  “Joe, explain to our brother what silent partner means. And I’m not doing that many renos. Ty is traveling further and further south to find properties.”

  “And…Charley?” Joe leaned across the booth.

  “Yeah, that’s going…very well.”

  “Who would have thought it?” Marco said.

  “I would,” Joe said. “She’s hot. Thought about it myself.”

  Marco nearly sprayed beer through his nose. “Dude.”

  “What?” Joe winced. “Like once, maybe.”

  Dylan straightened. “I don’t want to hear about how hot you think my girlfriend is.”

  “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” Joe said.

  “It’s like that.”

  He was staking his claim. Not that Joe would have ever had a chance in hell, but Dylan was grateful it had never come to that. It would have killed him to see Charley with anyone else.

  It would still kill him.

  It was why he’d always found fault with any man interested in her. No one was ever good enough since his standard for her was perfection. But he wasn’t perfect, either, so it obviously wasn’t his desire to have her with the prince of perfection. It was his need to have her.

  “This is going to be such a blast. I finally get you bozos to come down to Santa Cruz and hang with me. Get you on a board. You and Charley gotta come down this month.” Joe pointed to Dylan.

  “Yeah, we’ll see. Milly having her baby might put a crimp in our plans.” Jesus, listen to him. Our plans.

  He’d never been in a serious committed relationship before and his longest relationship, other than family, was with Charley. As her best friend. It would be different now, and one of the ways it was different was that she wasn’t going anywhere. Except Lake Tahoe. With him.

  A pretty blonde, the same he’d seen with Joe the other night, came up to their booth, licking her lips. “Hey there, Joe.”

  “Hey, beautiful.” He gave her his complete attention. “How you doing?”
r />   His brother, the playboy. If he’d ever gone after Charley in earnest, he might have won her over, and then it would have come to blows.

  “Lonely,” she said, eyeing the room with the pool table. “You up for a game?”

  “I’ll be right with you, baby.”

  She walked away and Joe stood, clapping a hand on Dylan’s back. “Bro, thanks for not talking me out of this. I know you haven’t seen me as the most serious person in the world. I could have continued the Reyes legacy with you two, and you have no idea how close I’ve come. But I know I would have been miserable doing what someone else wanted for me instead of my own dream.”

  With a grin he strode away to join his lady friend.

  “They grow up so fast,” Marco said. “Would you look at our little Joey? He’s got game.”

  “Not sure if you noticed, but you’ve got two different women staring holes into your backside,” Dylan said.

  Marco turned slightly, and the women quickly looked away. “Nope, don’t know ‘em. The woman at your three o’clock has been tossing hair and give you googly eyes since we got here.”

  “Looks like we’ve all got game,” Dylan said, not even checking to see if Marc was correct.

  Marco rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, but you’re taken.”

  True. Taken about as much as any man alive could be. So wrapped up in her, and a possible future, that he hadn’t seen the obvious. But Joe’s little gratitude speech had made it abundantly clear. Charley wasn’t leaving because she was trying to please him. Making him happy by sacrificing something she wanted.

  She’d always wanted to see Paris. And though she claimed she didn’t want to go now, eventually she’d be miserable at the lost chance. Maybe not now but a year from now. Five years from now. If he failed her in some way—and he was bound to do that at some point—she’d blame him. He’d blame himself. Whatever kind of ass Sean was, he was right in that Paris was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It was what she’d always dreamed of. What kind of a friend would he be to Charley if he held her back from a dream?

 

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