Page 16
Story: When We Kiss
He doesn’t respond, leaving me antsy all morning.
Since Monday, Chad hasn’t stopped in the bakery at all. At his usual, morning check-in time, he only peeks in the window and gives us a wave. He grins, and that damn dimple pierces his cheek, causing my insides to clench. If our eyes meet, it’s like a bolt of lightning.
I remind myself I’m not doing relationships now. I’m working on my business, and once I’ve saved enough money, I’m taking a trip around the world. I’ve got my American Airlines credit card to buy all my gas. I’m racking up the points every time I go to the station, and I’m a third on my way to 120,000 points—the magic number to book a round-the-world flight.
I got the idea from my newest client, Travel Time. They’re a travel agency, and I’m setting up a streamlined, elegant site for them, directing travelers to packages based on where they want to go, categorized by location, duration, price, and star rating.
In the evenings I search for blog posts, photographs, and travel diaries to accompany the different packages they offer. Many nights, I have my dinner reading them and dreaming of seeing the sites up close in personal. Maybe I can add to the photographs and travel logs…
So while Chad Tucker is an interesting diversion, he is not distracting me from my goals. Cheater Travis Walker was the last man ever to do that to me. I plan to be financially independent and to see the world.
My best friend used to say she’d go with me, but having my gorgeous goddaughter and launching this bakery have put her travel plans on hold for now. I watch as she carefully guides the frosting bag around the edge of a three-layer chocolate cake, creating perfectly shaped purple flowers.
“He’s not giving you the chance to change your mind.” Emberly straightens, putting one hand on her lower back and giving it a stretch before returning to her work.
“He’s wasting his time is what he’s doing.” I pick up a fruit tart and carefully lower it into a cardboard box.
“Spending time with people isn’t a waste.” She gives me a wink.
“You know what I mean.”
“Give me five more minutes, and you can take this one, too.”
Checking the clock, I see it’s almost eleven. “The tart is for the Ladies’ Auxiliary First Friday luncheon, and the cake is for…”
“Betty Pepper’s Sunday school class is having a birthday party for her.”
“You made it awful early.” Emberly usually makes her cakes closer to the time they’ll be eaten to keep them fresh.
“She said they might have the party tomorrow if Roxanne is going out of town.”
Shaking my head, I assemble another box. “I can’t keep track of all these old biddies. I thought you slowed down as you got older.”
Emberly shrugs, finishing the final purple rose. “Roxanne Philpot isn’t slowing anything. Since her husband died, I heard she has a profile on Hookup4Luv dot com. Donna said her mystery trip is to Hedonism.”
“No way!” My jaw is on the floor. “If that old lady has a better sex life than me—”
“Whatever.” Emberly cocks an eyebrow at me from where she’s finishing Betty’s cake. “Your sex life is as good as you allow it to be.”
“I don’t know what that means.” It’s bullshit. I know exactly what it means.
The bell over the door rings, and in waltzes Jimmy Rhodes like some kind of living visual aide. He’s dressed in his usual—dark skinny jeans and a tight black tee. What I now recognize as a homemade tattoo peeks down his lined bicep. I cringe. Good lord.
“Afternoon, ladies.” He leans on the counter, giving me a wink.
“What do you want, jail bait?” Turning my back, I carry the box to the table where Emberly is finishing up.
“Aw, come on, Tab. That was a whole year ago.” A cocky grin curls his lips, and he hooks a thumb at his chest. “I’ve aged a lot since then.”
“To what? Seventeen?”
“No.” He acts offended. “Eighteen.”
“Did Wyatt have that bulb?” Emberly pushes past me, wiping her hands on her apron and inspecting the box Jimmy is holding.
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls out a small, oddly shaped bulb. “He said it should fit that old refrigerator, but he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stock them. Says they’re getting harder to find.”
My friend’s face pales. “What does that mean?”
Table of Contents
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