by Ellie Hall
“What is it?” he asked after a beat.
“I’m just overwhelmed. So much to do. I—” She shook her head. “I’ve fallen behind.”
“Usually I wouldn’t say this, but I understand.”
She met his eyes. “I know you do.”
“Let me grab a tea and we’ll get to work.”
She started to reply, but he was already out the door to get them drinks.
Moments later, he returned with tea for both of them and said, “Okay, what’s first?”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled. “How silly of me.” He wandered over to the open door of the closet and pulled an apron off the hook.
Confused amusement replaced the sadness in her eyes.
“Aprons first. I rather like this one with cupcakes.” He tied it around his waist. “Tell me what you need to make and we’ll get right to it.”
“You’re going to help me bake?”
He nodded as if there was no question on the matter. “We work better as a team.”
She smiled.
“I like that.” He brushed a loose hair from her face.
Her smile turned shy and delightfully flushed and flustered as she consulted a list. “Scones.”
“Those happen to be my specialty. Being Scottish helps. It makes them more authentic.” He winked.
“Are you sure about this? You must be exhausted too. It was such a long day.”
Teagh took a sip of tea. “Consider it training.”
“I thought you said you know how to bake.”
“No, I mean for this. For us. We both are busy business owners, but we have to make time together. If that means helping you in the kitchen then...”
She smiled and laced her arms around his neck. “Teagh, I like you.”
“I like you too, Sophie. Maybe, um, if the scones turn out alright, we can upgrade from being just neighbors to something more.”
“I can agree to that,” she said and then planted a kiss on his lips.
It started out sweet, but as the moment stretched between them it went deeper, giving Teagh the sense that whatever they had between them was more than like, more than a fleeting fling between two people whose paths had crossed repeatedly. And he didn’t mind. Not one bit.
Once they returned to the tasks at hand, namely baking, Sophie pulled out her scones recipe. “We’ll start you out with something basic. You can’t go wrong.”
“Actually, do you mind if I use my recipe?”
“You have a recipe? Can I see it?”
He tapped his temple. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
She nodded slowly.
“Okay, then let me have at it.” Once he got the scones in the oven, he asked, “What’s next?”
Sophie was flitting around the kitchen so fast, he wasn’t sure she heard him.
When she hurried past him, he lassoed her around the waist and hugged her close. “Hey, hummingbird, what’s next? What can I do?”
“Oooh. Hummingbird cake. That would be good.”
He surveyed the racks of items cooling. “I think you’re good for tomorrow, but next time you talk to my mom, ask her for the recipe. Also, when you bite into one of the scones, you can thank her for insisting that I learn to bake when I was a lad.” He was a rascal and he knew it.
“I already thanked her for teaching you to cook. You’ve surprised me, Teagh Coyle. I thought I was going to hate the noisy boxer next door.”
“Hate? I can’t imagine you hating anything.” She was so good, so pure.
“You haven’t seen me around snakes yet.”
He laughed. “Speaking of surprises and snakes...”
She jerked back.
Again, he chuckled. “How on earth did you manage to befriend Teresa? When I saw her there talking to you, I thought it was the start of world war three.”
“As my mama says, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’”
He tried to figure out the meaning of the expression. “My mother fought with Teresa, which didn’t seem to do any good. You were as sweet as pie and was able to eek some civility out of her.”
“Simple answer, Love Thy Neighbor.” Her cheeks blushed pink as though realizing the double meaning of her words.
“Well, if that’s the case...” He leaned in and planted another soft kiss on her lips.
“You are so good. Too good. You even said to Teresa, ‘Bless your soul.’”
Sophie wore a smirk. “I aim to be good, but if you were to ask my mother what the expression bless your soul really means in that context, it wouldn’t be what you’d expect. It’s a southern thing.”
“You don’t have an accent.”
“No, I suppose not. My mother does. My father was from New York though. Maybe I inherited my lack of accent from him.” She shrugged. “He died when I was young so I don’t really know.” She stopped abruptly as though she was going to say something else, but the timer for the oven dinged.
“Sounds like the scones are ready,” Teagh said, not ready to let her go, but he didn’t want them to overcook or dry out.
They let the scones cool for a few minutes and cleaned up. Finally, he took one from the tray and broke it in half.
Sophie examined it and gave a nod of approval. “Looks moist and with the right amount of crumb.”
“Trust me, you’ll love it,” he said, giving her half.
Before he took a bite, he said, “Actually, you can have the whole thing. Do you mind if I help myself to this?” He pointed to the pieces of the cake that she’d set aside after cutting out the forms for the boxing gloves. “The cake was gobbled up before I got a slice.”
“I guess that’s a good sign.”
“I’d say the day was a success.”
“And this part is the icing.”
His eyebrows wriggled together because there wasn’t any icing on the pieces of cake. It looked like the just-right blend of chocolate and vanilla. Two opposites that went perfectly together. Being with her was the icing on the cake that was for sure.
She moaned. “These scones.” She swallowed. “Omigosh it is so good. What’s the recipe? What’s your secret?”
“If I tell you...I’ll have to...make you my girlfriend.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around her.
A playful grin lifted the corners of her lips. “I’d have been your girlfriend anyway. No bargaining required.”
In the following weeks, both Sophie and Teagh kept busy at their respective businesses but ended up rendezvousing in the alley several times a day, stealing a few kisses along with trading sweet treats and flowers. He gave her official Uppercut Boxing Club merchandise among other things that Teagh bought that he thought she’d like: a tartan scarf, a new wallet, a phone charger (since she was always misplacing hers), baking cookbooks, and more.
One afternoon when they met, he passed her a gift bag. She unfolded the tissue paper and pulled out a lavender and buttery yellow apron he’d had custom embroidered with Honey and Lavender Bakery from the same place that made the hats, shirts, and other items for the gym. He was focused on his new enterprise and it was booming, but every second in between she was on his mind.
“I love it, but you didn’t have to,” she said, tying it on. Her cheeks were bright from the cold and her smile lifted them.
“I wanted to.” He kissed both of her cheeks to warm her up.
“Hello, Miss Sophie,” a male voice said from behind. Tony appeared, looking cleaned up and fuller in the face. “Mr. Coyle.” He insisted on addressing Teagh properly after he’d offered the man a custodial job at the gym.
“What are you doing back here? I thought it was your day off?”
Teagh knew what she was really asking was why he was in the alley after Jonathan had gotten him a room at an apartment one of his friends was renting along with several other people. Between both jobs, he was making enough to get back on his feet. Though, Teagh suspected Sophie made sure he had three meals a day plus bonus baked goods.
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br /> “I just came back here to clean things up. I tell you what, my vision has returned.”
Sophie tilted her head in question.
“I have the two of you to thank. Mr. Coyle for not killing me.” He wrung his hands, still apologetic. “And Miss Sophie for giving me a chance. I didn’t tell you this before because I was ashamed, but in high school, I got involved in the wrong crowd. Started doing drugs. Before I realized it, I was on the streets. From there it got worse. But my hope has been restored. I’ve been saved. Thank you, Sophie.”
“I’m not the one to thank,” she said.
He glanced skyward. “Well, all the same. I’m grateful every day for all that you’ve done for me.”
Jonathan poked his head out the door. “Sophie, you have a call. Oh, hey Tony. Are you coming to band practice tonight?”
The man who looked older than his years from living a tough life smiled and looked considerably younger. “Sure will.”
“Awesome.” Jonathan thumbed in Tony’s direction. “This dude is boss on guitar.”
“You added guitar to your line up?”
“Electric guitar,” Jonathan said.
Sophie turned back to Teagh. “I’d better head in and get that call.”
“See you later?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
But hours stretched into days as the couple remained occupied by their demanding businesses and only snatched bits of time together.
Chapter 13
Sophie
Sophie lamented not spending more time with Teagh. Of course, at first, she wanted nothing to do with him and truth be told she had been intimidated by his tough exterior, but as they got to know each other, she looked forward to the time they shared. But that had become increasingly difficult to create. She felt a void inside that became like a gnawing hunger that she couldn’t satisfy because of their opposite schedules.
She was up early baking and he was at the gym late coaching.
She took Sundays off and he had private clients that day.
She had the Baking and Bible Study class, which had taken off on Tuesday evenings and he hosted bouts on Thursday nights.
She did see him during her self-defense class on Wednesdays, but he was occupied with a full roster of students.
They only traded secret smiles during the session and a quick smooch afterward.
Thanksgiving had come and gone. Sophie promised herself she’d find an apprentice she could train because she’d had to bake so many pies, she’d had to pull an all-nighter and get Jonathan and Keisha in the back, helping her. He was hopeless in the kitchen. However, Keisha did well and kept Sophie awake with her chatter.
One evening, Sophie was on her way to choir practice and trying to come up with an opening in her schedule so she and Teagh could at least have dinner together.
They saw each other often enough since their businesses and apartments were so close, but it was too quick. She wanted quality time.
Hayden had often traveled for business and she didn’t want a part-time relationship. Been there, done that. Although the two men were nothing alike.
An unwanted thought crept in. Maybe they weren’t able to find time to spend together because they weren’t meant to.
She’d moved to New York for a fresh start and to focus on her bakery. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. She didn’t want complications or anything to interfere with her dream.
The doubt in her mind had sharp teeth and bit into a wound she’d carried practically her entire life. It was something she rarely let herself think about and her mother never spoke about. She only knew the truth because she’d overheard her mother on the phone, confessing everything late one night when she was only ten years old.
Lost in thought, Sophie wandered to the balcony where the choir practiced and took her position on the riser near the other sopranos.
From above, the view of the church slowed the whirring of her otherwise harried mind. She’d been rushing around for what felt like months. Gazing upon the altar and Jesus brought her renewed peace.
Candles glowed in red votives and aside from her fellow choir members warming up, there was a reverent hush in the sacred space. She said a prayer of gratitude.
Then her attention drifted to a man settling into a pew. He pressed his hands together in prayer and bowed his head. It was a head she would recognize anywhere—one she looked for while leaving her building, while on the bustling sidewalk when running errands, among the customers in line at the bakery, and just about always.
The choir director, a slight man with a powerful voice that was at odds with his appearance, called for everyone’s attention and singing practice began.
Ordinarily, Sophie lost herself in song, in worship as everyone’s voices became one and yet uniquely highlighted their relationship and praise of God.
After seeing Teagh in the church, knowing he was down there, her thoughts bounced around in her head. She wanted to say hi, to ask him what he was doing there, but again, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
When they began practicing a song for the Christmas Vespers even though it was still weeks away, Sophie once more tapped into the stillness and serenity God afforded. Her voice lifted and melded with the rest of the choir and her thoughts ceased.
After practice was over, she chatted for a minute with an older couple who’d been in the choir since their teens. Their obvious affection for each other even after what turned out to also be fifty years of marriage like Teagh’s parents, made Sophie smile.
When she peered over the balcony, Teagh was no longer in the pew.
Her smile faltered as she went downstairs and exited.
Outside, leaning against the rail atop the slate steps, he waited.
Her smile returned, bigger than ever. She practically fell into his arms in an embrace. Then she pulled back abruptly. “Wait a second, how did you know I was here? I saw you, but did you see me?”
“No, I heard you.” His lips twitched with a smile of his own. “I was praying and heard your voice. I knew it was you.”
“How?”
“I fell in love with your voice the first time I heard it.”
“You fell in love...” She spoke at barely a whisper.
He nodded. “When I was a lad, I used to sing in my church choir. Imagine that?” He chuckled at the memory. “I also used to make more time for devotional practices. Life has just carried me along with it and I realized that I needed to pause. Well, my client this evening had to reschedule so I took it as a sign...and it led me to you.”
Maybe the doubt about them not being meant for each other was the enemy on her shoulder.
“So, uh, can I take you to dinner? Unless you have to be somewhere or do something tonight. I know you’ve been busy too.”
“No. I mean yes. No, I’m not busy. Yes, I’d like to join you for dinner.” She was tripping over her words and felt like she was a computer with too many tabs open. “Aye,” she said, using his version of the affirmative and attempting to make light of her rambling.
The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth.
Everything in life was happening so fast, all at once. Part of her wanted to slow things down, but not stop them. To not have anything end, but like with juggling, she feared if she dropped one ball or changed her pace the whole thing would come apart.
“Great, it’s a spontaneous date.” Teagh’s phone rang, but he ignored it.
“Maybe the trick for us is not to try to plan time together, but just make it happen,” she said.
“I like that and I’m sorry for being so busy.” His eyes warmed with sincerity.
“Trust me, I understand. I am too. How about this, let’s not talk about work tonight. We can set it all aside and talk about other things. Life in Scotland for instance. I’ve always wanted to visit that part of the world.”
“You’ve never been?”
“Nope. The UK, France, and Italy are on my bucket list. But in no particular order.”
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“I already know that you like Italian food, so I know just where to go for dinner.”
They walked across town, talking the entire time.
“You are going to love this place called Il Bacio. They have this incredible sauce also called il bacio. I think it means the kiss, in Italian.”
They soon settled at a table for two in the intimate and candlelit Italian restaurant with black and white tiled floors and traditional Italian music playing softly in the background. It was just the perfect amount of romantic. The smell of garlic and basil practically made Sophie’s mouth water.
While they perused the menu, Teagh’s phone beeped with messages. He tucked it in his pocket, once more, ignoring them. They both decided on the house dish: il bacio, as he’d mentioned.
“I promise that you won’t be sorry.”
“Not when the sauce is a secret family recipe.” Sophie flipped over the menu. “Listen to this. The original owners were from Italy and opened the restaurant over thirty years ago. They were a husband and wife team with him as the cook and her as the hostess with the most-ess.” She giggled. “He recently passed away and she retired, but is still known to entertain guests with stories of the old country and her adopted one after many years in the restaurant biz.” She sighed. “Their daughter now owns and runs the place along with her husband.”
Teagh nodded.
“But wait. There’s more. Every night, after the couple would lock up, they’d exchange a kiss as they pulled the blinds down on the door and settle in for their hard-earned late-night meal before getting up the next day and doing it all over again. That’s so romantic.”
Just then, Teagh leaned over the table and planted a kiss on her lips. He jostled the table as his phone beeped in his pocket. The waitress came over and he returned to sitting.
They placed their order and then talked about travel, which Sophie had done very little of and Teagh had practically seen the world when he was still boxing.
He cut himself off when his phone beeped again but also because he’d said that he didn’t want to talk shop. Instead, they talked about food, veering away from dessert items so as not to drift into work-related things.
