Baking Up Love Page 4

  “Classy.”

  “Yeah, but I’m probably not wrong either.”

  She probably wasn’t. But there was no way in Hell I was going to ask Thomas about it. Even though I was a little curious about it now. It shone a different light on my past, knowing that he’d loved me for so long.

  I had a huge crush on him when we were in eighth grade but I figured he didn’t feel the same way. It lingered on and off all throughout high school as I watched him come into his own.

  Sometimes when we argued I pretended we were married and we’d have hot makeup sex afterward. Stupid fantasies like that. Things I never thought in a million years would be real.

  Jemma snapped her fingers to get my attention. “C’mon Claire, save the sappy daydreaming when you’re in the shower with the detachable showerhead. Here, put this one on next.”

  “I don’t remember you being this crass,” I said slipping into a ribbed cardigan with buttons the size of silver dollars.

  “That’s because you weren’t as cool as you are now. Now I can be myself without worrying about you treating me like a little kid.”

  I know she didn’t mean to start a fight but I couldn’t help but see the bitterness reflected in the mirror as she spoke.

  She stared at the floor, and I could see how much my insistence on treating her more like a daughter than a sister had hurt her.

  “I’m sorry, Jemma. I really am.” I turned to face her, holding my hands out to her. She got up and grabbed them. Her hands still felt so small. “I promise I’ll make it up to you somehow. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

  She looked away.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I didn’t wanna say anything since we were having such a good time, but I need to head back home soon.”

  She wasn’t looking me in the eye. With more effort than I thought it would take I pushed down the maternal instinct to pry the truth out of her. I opted for a different tactic instead. “Jemma, what aren’t you telling me?”

  She let go of my hands and shrugged defensively, I could practically see the walls going up. “It’s nothing, okay? John called me, said he was sorry for all the things he said and wants to work it out. It’s not like I’ve got anything going for me here and the hotel’s overbooked with noisy guests.”

  I could have kicked myself, then her, then myself again. It was so obvious what the problem was and I should have seen it earlier. Only I was too busy worrying about myself and Thomas.

  “You know, now that Dad’s old apartment is cleared out you could move in,” I said as blandly and bored as I could. In short, I channeled my sister.

  I picked up a pair of slim charcoal gray and heather yoga pants, using the motion to disguise a glance in her direction.

  She wasn’t outrightly dismissing it as charity or saying no. That was a sign in the right direction at least.

  “I mean, it’s not like I’m using it,” I continued, careful to keep my voice perfectly bored. “Oh, these fit really nice.” I rarely had the occasion to wear something like yoga pants. It was always business slacks or a tasteful dress.

  I could see why they were comfortable. It was like being hugged by a soft cloud. And they made my ass look amazing. It was definitely one of my better assets, one that I had caught Thomas gazing longingly at on more than one occasion.

  “What will you do with it if I do go back?” she asked tentatively. “Here, try this on next, you need something that else in your wardrobe that doesn’t say ‘basic white girl.’”

  I gave her a taste of her own medicine and rolled my eyes at her, swapping the swaddling comfort of the yoga pants for a pair of- “Overalls, really?”

  “They’re coming back in style.” Jemma looked at her fingernails for much longer than was necessary. I managed to get the overalls on before she looked back at me as I was hooking the last strap into place. “No, no! Don’t ever put both straps on. One at the most, and let - just let me. Here, you fold this over like this and leave the strap off the back like that. There. See?”

  I looked at myself in the mirror. “And this is in style.”

  “Yep, especially on the west coast.”

  “You do realize we’re on the east coast, right?”

  “You’ll be a trendsetter.”

  “If you say so. To answer your previous question. I’ll probably rent it out or keep it empty. Could probably put it up on Airbnb with all the influx of new visitors.”

  Despite how badly I wanted to see how Jemma was taking it, I didn’t look at her. Didn’t even glance her direction. Partly because the strap had gotten stuck and I was fighting to free it.

  “I could probably do that for you if you want,” she offered timidly.

  No grinning. I couldn’t even crack a faintly happy smile, else I’d risk the whole thing coming down like a house of cards when somebody opens the bedroom door suddenly and the rush of air blows it all down.

  “Yeah, sure if you want. Honestly, you’ll be doing me a favor. Now I can focus on work and not navigating that mess.” I risked a look up at her as I shimmied out of the overalls. Jemma was giving it some actual thought.

  I didn’t know why she was really going back. Whether she had used up whatever money she had staying here, or if her ex really did want to get back together with her. Though I doubted that very much from what she told me about him and their most recent breakup.

  Unfortunately, my sister was just about the worst person to ask for help, especially when she needed it most. She’d rather sleep on a park bench than admit she could use a little help or a place to crash for the night.

  I wasn’t going to force her back into the arms of an abusive relationship just so she could have a warm place to sleep.

  Which meant I had to make it seem like she was doing me a favor. I didn’t feel right doing it but if it kept her in Sunrise Valley and she didn’t have to worry about where she’d be staying tonight it would be worth it. Besides, it’d be cool to live next door to my sister.

  “All right, but if I take this off your hands you gotta let me do it my way,” she said with fire in her eyes.

  I put up my hands, palms out in surrender. “It’s all yours, take it and do whatever you like with it. The keys are in my purse, third pocket on the inside.”

  Jemma rummaged around in my purse while I got dressed into the yoga pants and cardigan over a slim-fit tank top with spaghetti straps. I could already see Thomas’ face as I undressed layer by layer.

  I could hardly believe that I was lucky enough to have a guy like him.

  “Got it.” Jemma clasped the jangle of keys to her chest. “So you really don’t care what I do with it?”

  “Long as you don’t destroy it, our businesses are attached to it after all. But beyond that? Have at it.”

  “So I could…turn it into a rescue shelter for animals?” She watched me closely, and I realized she was testing me. Seeing if I’d relapse into my old ways and try to tell her how to live her life.

  It was only after I learned to get out of my own way that I was able to finally accept I was worthy of love and win Thomas back. There was no way in Hell I was going to get in Jemma’s way ever again.

  “Thomas was telling me there’s a cute duo that runs the local animal shelter. They’re even worse than Thomas and I were. Though it’s obvious to everybody else in town that they’re crazy for each other. But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you wanted to set up a competing shelter.”

  Jemma’s thinned lips told me she wasn’t amused. Good. I wasn’t doing this for a laugh, though seeing her try to trip me up and fail was an odd turn of events. She had always been able to get me riled up before but it was only because I was so damn worried for her.

  Now I saw it for what it was. She wanted me to trust her, no matter what choice she made she wanted me to let her make it.

  I put my hand on her arm and looked her in the eyes. “Seriously. It’s yours. Take whatever furniture you want, throw out or give away the rest. Trash g
ets picked up on Tuesday and Thursday, big stuff on Tuesdays I think. I’ll ask Thomas to be sure.”

  My little sister nodded, a look of steely resolve on her pixie face. “Thanks, I mean it. I know this isn’t easy for you, giving up control.”

  I looked away to hide the blush. It was touching that she was grateful. Something I can’t remember ever hearing come from her since we were kids.

  It was what she said, about giving up control that summoned the heat to my now rosy cheeks. If only she knew how much I loved giving up control to Thomas, she’d blush to the roots of her hair too.

  We gathered up the clothes that had been sorted into three piles. One to buy, one to decide later, and a third that I didn’t want.

  There was one more surprise in store for my sister, and this one I wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

  We got up to the register where I dumped the pile of clothes. “Could you ring these up please?” I handed over my black card when she was done and paid. “Would you mind holding onto those, we’re not quite done yet.”

  The somewhat prissy attendant eased the moment I dropped the pile at the register. Her eyes bulged at the card I gave her. Sometimes having prestige and money from a well-known firm was worth all the headaches.

  After that, she practically waited on us hand and foot. The difference was laughably stark.

  Jemma took full advantage, ordering glasses of mimosas and a plate of snacks. I guided Jemma back through the airy store with its vaulted ceilings and glass panes from floor to ceiling. This was an area outside Sunrise Valley. The same upper-class place as Ryan Holmes’ neighborhood, Stonebrook.

  “Show me something you’d like to get,” I said, hooking my arm with Jemma’s. “You’re getting at least equal to what I got, and if it’s any less I’ll pick the difference for you. And trust me, you won’t want that.”

  I didn’t think it was a very good threat but by the way her eyes bulged at me you’d think I put the fear of God in her.

  She nearly jerked my arm out of the socket rushing to pick out her first outfit.

  6

  Thomas

  “…and then she practically bolted out of the car with her bags looped through her arms and the keys jingling in her hands!”

  I held Claire to my chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders as we snuggled under the blanket watching a cozy fake fireplace on TV the next morning.

  It was one of those idyllic scenes that I always tried so desperately to commit every moment to memory. Moments like these, talking about our day, nothing going wrong, no crisis to avert were what life was really about.

  These were the moments I knew I’d look back on fondly.

  “That’s my girl.” I gave her a squeeze. She wrapped her small arms around me and pulled me tighter against her.

  “I’m glad we’ll have a next-door neighbor now.”

  “Me too, you think she’d want to come over for dinner again sometime?”

  “Does the sun rise in the east? She wouldn’t stop talking about the dinner you made for us when…” She trailed off, looking anywhere but at me.

  That was the night she broke up with me, half-drunk and half-asleep she muttered about how she wasn’t worth my love. How somehow, and I still didn’t quite understand, I would see that the love she gave me wasn’t enough and I would dump her.

  Because that made sense.

  Any guy would be lucky to have Claire in their life, much less have even a tenth of the love she gave me. And she thought it was inadequate? That was insane.

  Rather than say any of those things, I hugged her tighter and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s all right. The dinner was still good, that’s what I choose to remember about it.”

  She gave me a timid nod. The truth was the wound was still too raw for me. It was too soon, and I was secretly afraid that if she was reminded about it she might slip back into those kinds of thoughts.

  The very last thing I wanted was to jeopardize the awesome thing we had now.

  “I’m sure tomorrow morning she’ll be drifting down the hall following the intoxicating aroma of your coffee like one of those old cartoons.”

  That gave me an idea. “She likes coffee?”

  Claire gave me a look that said, is there a single person who doesn’t?

  Maybe she had a point. It was one of the few things I didn’t sell at the bakery, mostly because getting hold of a large enough supply, blending them and roasting them was time-consuming.

  I couldn’t do that and manage the shop, deal with customers, and bake. I was stretching myself thin as it was. “Maybe I could make her a little housewarming package. Some food, a pound or two of coffee, stuff like that.”

  “That’s wonderful, I really think she’d love it.”

  “Good.” I scooped up my plate, came around to Claire’s side and gave her a kiss while I took her plate and utensils. “I’ll get on that over my lunch break. Is there anything she particularly favors?”

  “I know she likes strawberry a lot, so maybe a few of the lover’s specials?”

  “What about chocolate?” I asked on the way to the sink, when she didn’t reply immediately I looked over my shoulder at her. Her expression said enough. “Right. Dumb question. So that’s a yes for chocolate and for strawberries. I’ve got a few things in mind.”

  I threw on some clothes, having nearly forgotten I was mostly naked. That wasn’t something I ever did by myself. I always wore comfortable clothes, maybe just my boxer briefs but I wasn’t the sort of guy to talk around shirtless.

  The way Claire looked at me when I did though was changing my opinion on the matter. It was the exact opposite of the adorable pouty look she was giving me right now as I got a black apron out from the closet and tied it around my waist. “Don’t give me that look.”

  “Don’t cover up those glorious muscles and I won’t have to.”

  She sauntered over to me, got up on the balls of her feet and threw her arms around me. Hands on her waist, I lifted her into the air and kissed her long and hard. Pretty chaste as things went between us now but when we broke apart we were both breathless.

  “I love that I have that effect on you.”

  She unwound her arms and playfully slapped my chest. Then she noticed the way I was breathing and set her hand over my heart, her eyes warm and tender for me. The surprise on her face was so genuine and wondering, like a child seeing snow for the first time I had to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I crushed her in a hug. “You’re just too adorable sometimes. Did you really think you didn’t make my heart race and my breath short too?”

  “Not really…”

  There it was, that self-doubt.

  With my finger gently curled under her chin I tilted her head back and locked eyes with her. “You are too smart, too interesting, and far too beautiful to think that you don’t light up the room every time you walk in. Of course you make me feel the same way I make you feel. Feel this.”

  I pressed her hand over my heart so she could feel the way it beat, proud and strong for her. She blushed and tried to duck her head but I gently nudged her back to look into my eyes. Her vivid green eyes shimmered with emotion, and for a split second, I feared I had made a mistake and somehow caused her pain.

  Her smile erased all doubt from my mind.

  A few tears were squeezed out by the motion and she rested her head where her hand was a moment ago. “I love the sound of your heartbeat. It’s so strong.”

  “And it’s all yours.”

  “It better be.”

  We stood there a few moments longer, enjoying the time together. While I loved the mornings they were also torturous because I inevitably had to leave. I couldn’t wait for the day that I didn’t have to leave her side.

  “I gotta open up the bakery.”

  “I know. Just five more seconds.”

  Indulging her, I gave her a tight squeeze that lingered until she pulled back and I let go. I picked up my
keys from the dish near the door and headed out. Halfway down the stairs I risked a look back and found her hanging out of the doorway watching me.

  Even from this distance, I could see the blush on her face. She ducked back inside like a little kid caught peeping.

  The rest of my day went as it usually did these days. Which is to say, hectic as hell. I would have never thought it’d be possible to see this many people in my shop at once. I was lucky in most days to get ten or twenty people tops.

  Now I was constantly having to remind people to wait in a line since the fire department had come by to gently remind me that the occupancy guidelines are there for a reason.

  I had grand ideas of expanding the shop. Adding a cute little bistro-style area with stonework fencing to give people places to sit and eat was just one of the many dreams I had for the shop. I don’t know if they’d ever be realized, but the way things were going I was feeling optimistic.

  Which is not something I ever associated with the bakery. A Game of Scones was my baby. And while I always wanted the best for it, I knew my own limitations and the location would stop me from realizing the things I wanted.

  Besides, most businesses - especially restaurants - fail in the first few years. And I had no reason to expect mine to be any different. That was until Richard’s will reading forced Claire and me into a partnership that got us talking and ultimately together again in a way I could have only dreamed of.

  I used to be able to set the proofing oven to low and let it go overnight for a long rise of the different types of dough I was making for the next day. Now I was constantly cycling the oven to one of its speedier settings because I didn’t have enough to meet the demand.

  The shop was doing great. Each day saw more people than before and the lines were getting longer. I was making in a day what I used to make in a month and the number kept rising.

  My weekly deposits to the bank had to be stepped up to twice a week and then finally it became a daily thing.

  The look Mister Pomson gave me when he first saw how fat that first purse was after I stuffed it full from the first four days after the social media posts went viral was hilarious. He nearly choked on his coffee.