Page 6

Chapter 6

Jack

“Damn man, this is the best cake I’ve ever eaten.” Sam forked another bite of the salted caramel dark chocolate cake into his mouth.

“Thought it would go well with the peach sours and the Lemon Drop Martini Henry makes.” I’d been taught to doubt everything about myself most of my life, but confidence in my baking skills was the one thing they never took from me. Probably because I fell in love with cake baking and decorating at a time when I promised myself I’d get away from them one day. They knew about the baking, but I let them think it was just a silly little hobby. They laughed at me, called me names, and shamed me for such a girly pastime.

They had no clue I soaked up baking basics, recipes, and expert techniques like a damn sponge. Squirreling them all away, breaking them out to practice anytime the opportunity arose, honing my craft slowly but surely.

And it paid off because my cakes were the best .

Period.

When Henry raced off to help his dad, I found myself hanging out with Sam at the Roadhouse. He mentioned he wasn’t sure what dessert Henry had planned for that evening, and I offered to make a cake.

Sam had been skeptical, but he’d cleared space for me to work.

Soon, I’d had two cakes. The one Sam was already gaga for and a peaches and cream concoction I had a feeling would be super popular with the Roadhouse crowd.

As the dinner crowd started to trickle in, Sam had checked his phone, shrugged, and tossed me an apron. I’d loved helping Sam in the kitchen while Kayla and a couple other employees had covered the bar and dining room.

More than anything though, I just wanted to see Henry.

But it wasn’t like I could ask Sam a bunch of questions. Mainly because he’d straight up mentioned he hadn’t heard from Henry while we were in the middle of prepping for the dinner rush. But also because too many questions would make it look like I had something for Henry aside from just being grateful for the use of his couch.

And I didn’t.

Really.

The guy had been nice. He’d helped me out. I enjoyed spending time with him.

Sure, he was big, burly, and gorgeous. For real, look up the word bear in any slang dictionary, and you’d find a picture of Henry.

But I mostly just wanted to know Henry’s dad was okay. The older Riggs had nearly scared me out of my socks when he came barreling through the little back patio, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to be sick.

Or worse.

Sam split his time between the bar and the kitchen during the dinner rush. He had Kayla serving and mixing drinks while he cooked, then Sam would leave me to plate up the food while he relieved Kayla so she could help the others deliver food to tables.

We didn’t run like a well-oiled machine, but most of the customers knew Casey Joe had gone to the hospital, so they cut us some slack. At least staying busy meant I didn’t have a lot of time to think about Henry and what he might have been going through.

I’d only baked and decorated the two cakes. We likely could have sold every slice of at least three times as many. Not everyone wanted to order dessert, and several went with items other than cake—the peach crisp was a popular one. But every single bite of both cakes was gone by the time the last table closed out their check.

“Damn, man.” Sam slapped me on the back. “Next time, you better make more cake.”

Next time.

My heart leaped at the thought of working with Henry, baking cakes customers raved over, and making my home in Haven Grove.

But I shrugged, pulling the collar of my shirt up to rub it over my bottom lip—Sam felt safe, and I liked him, but that didn’t stop the past from stirring up my anxiety. “Just helping out. Not sure Henry wants me working here full time. ”

“Hell if he won’t,” Sam said. “We’ll tell him about the cake and how much you helped tonight. He’ll hire you on the spot.”

I dipped my head to hide the fire in my cheeks. As much as I loved Sam’s praise, and as much as I longed to think Henry might hire me, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. It would hurt too much to let my dreams start taking root only to have Henry act like hiring me would be the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Maybe.”

Sam just chucked me on the shoulder. “Head on home, I’ll wrap things up here. If you don’t have anything else going on, plan on being here tomorrow. Still haven’t heard from Henry, but I can’t see him being able to work a full shift no matter what’s going on with Casey Joe.”

My heart dropped. Was Casey Joe in bad shape? Would he get better? When would Henry be able to come home? Selfishly, I wanted to think Henry would be back home soon. I liked knowing he was just down the hall while I slept. Liked the fact I could pop into the Roadhouse and see him anytime I wanted. It was wild how quickly he’d become my favorite person, my safety net, and my happy place all rolled into one.

Not for the first time, I thought about texting him. I had his number. He had my number, even though he didn’t know it was me . But that was a conversation we needed to have face-to-face, so I refused to entertain it as an option.

Later that evening, after a hot shower, I sat curled up on Henry’s couch wearing one of his huge flannel shirts over a bright pink pair of trunk style underwear. The shirt engulfed me, and the black, blue, and gray of the flannel complemented the fun splash of color underneath. The woodsy, citrusy scent of Henry surrounded me, and I pulled the soft material tightly around my body.

The sound of the TV kept me company, the local news reporting the weather forecast for the next day, while I tapped furiously at my phone. Ideas for cakes flooded my mind, mixing with concern for Casey Joe and wishing Henry was home. I made lists of flavors of cakes, fillings, and frostings, being sure to note which of Henry’s cocktails the different cakes would go well with.

Between the soft clicking of the ceiling fan, whatever game show came on after the news droning on, and the cozy warmth of Henry’s shirt cocooned around me, I must have drifted off to sleep.

The rattle of keys in the lock registered in my sleepy brain just as the front door crept open a crack. Kicking the blanket from my feet, I sprang up from the couch.

The door opened wider, and Henry’s broad frame appeared, looking deliciously wrecked in the worn jeans and flannel I’d seen him in when he rushed to his dad’s—sleeves rolled up, untucked, and rumpled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” His eyes traveled down my body, paused on my naked legs under his borrowed flannel shirt and bare feet with toes curled into his living room carpet, and shot back up to my face.

Without even thinking about the clothes I wore or the possible inappropriateness of it, I launched myself into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his chest with an unintended whimper.

Henry grunted, his arms instinctively snaking around to keep me from falling. “Whoa, you okay? What’s wrong?”

The hug was a mistake on my part.

For a lot of reasons.

Reasons that probably needed examined, but that was something for a different time and place.

On the other hand, the hug was perfection.

And when it should have ended, mere seconds after it started, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I breathed Henry in deeply, catching the antiseptic scent of the hospital and hand sanitizer mixed with his fading woodsy citrus scent.

“Jack.” Henry’s words were soft near my ear. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head, into his chest. “I’m sorry. I was just worried. I missed having you here; worried what might have happened with your dad.” Trying to reset the situation from hella awkward to as close to normal as possible, I took a deep, shuddery breath. “I’m sorry.”

Moving to loosen the vice grip I had on Henry, I tried to pull away, but my body tingled with awareness when he held me tighter. One hand traveled up and down my back while the other cupped my neck. His warm breath fluttered over my ear and the side of my face, his thick beard tickling my skin. “Shhhh, you’re okay. I’ve gotchu.”

God, I wanted his big hands to make their way to the bare skin of my back. Wanted his mouth on the sensitive skin of my neck while his strong arms pulled my nearly naked body flush against his big frame.

But what I got was so much better. At least for the time being. Proving that, for me, an attraction to someone wasn’t only sexual desire.

Henry shouldered the door to swing back toward its frame and pressed his big boot against the lower corner to shut it all the way before maneuvering us to the couch. When I should have wriggled my way out of his embrace, Henry lowered himself to the couch and pulled me onto his lap.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Henry said, his words soft, and his hand still caressing my back.

By this time, my cheeks were on fire because of the way I’d reacted to Henry coming home. I wanted to crawl into the cedar chest and hide forever.

Instead, I found my chin in Henry’s big hand as he guided my face up to look him in the eyes. “Jack, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, it’s silly. I’d just been so worried, and I kept making up the worst-case scenarios in my head for what happened to your dad.” I curled into Henry’s big, warm body. “And it’s not like I felt unsafe here, but it’s better when you’re home.” Freezing when I realized what I’d said, I backtracked. “Not like home home. I don’t think I’m here forever or anything, I just meant?—”

“This is your home for as long as you want it to be, and I like having you here.” Henry let go of my chin, his free hand coming to rest on my bare thigh while his other hand kept up its constant stroking of my back. “Dad is going to be okay. He had a heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered. “Was it bad?”

Henry shook his head. “Could have been a lot worse. Hoping this is the wake up call he needs to get himself in a better place.”

“What happened to him?” I brought the cuff of the extra-long sleeve to my lips and rubbed it softly against the sensitive skin. “I mean, if it’s not too nosey for me to ask.”

“It’s not. I forget you’re not from around here. Most everyone in town knows.” Henry absently brushed a thumb over the bare skin of my leg, and I had no intention of drawing attention to it for fear he’d stop touching me. “Dad and Mom got pregnant with me young. Mom convinced Dad to get married. Two years later, Hudson came along. By the time she’d been a small-town mom of two boys for four years, Missy decided she’d had enough. She left Dad, left Hudson and me.”

“Shit, Henry. That sucks. I’m sorry.” My gut clenched. Was this connection because we’d both lost our moms at a young age? Or was my heart just making up stories and hoping for something that wasn’t truly there?

“I think that would have been enough to keep Dad down for quite a while, but he headed over to talk to his brother—my Uncle Billy—and found a drunk-ass Billy sleeping it off while Missy got dressed. Pretty much nearly killed him.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“So, the three of us have a lot of baggage from the past. Hudson sleeps around—or he used to—and just never got attached before Lance. I pretty much keep everyone at an arm’s length.”

A slight smirk teased Henry’s lips, tiny lines crinkling the skin around his pretty eyes, and I wondered if he was aware of how not arm’s length he was keeping me. But I let him go on.

“And Dad.” He smoothed a hand over his beard. “Well, Dad let himself go for way too long.” By this point my head rested on Henry’s shoulder, his soft words nearly lulling me to sleep.

“I’m sorry your mom left. I know how much it sucks to lose a mom.”

Henry’s hand stilled for a split second, but he recovered quickly. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

I nodded.

I hadn’t really talked to anyone about losing my mom. Hadn’t had anyone care enough to listen. I recalled talking to a few counselors and social workers in elementary school, but Uncle Joseph had nipped that in the bud every time the consent papers came home.

Now wasn’t the time to unload my past hurts, but my heart did a happy dance at the thought of having someone to talk to. The fact it was Henry made it one hundred times better.

The silence lasted just a smidge too long, but I worried once I started talking, I’d never stop.

“Talked to Sam on the way home,” Henry said, and I was glad for the change in subject. “He said you were a huge help.”

Hot emotion gathered in my chest at his words.

“And he said your cakes were to die for.” Henry gave my leg a squeeze. “Sold out and left the customers wanting more. ”

I shrugged. “I just wanted to help. And staying busy kept my mind off things.”

“Would you consider working for me?” Henry asked. “I’m not asking for a commitment. I know you’ll probably want something better than what I can offer?—”

“Yes,” I blurted, cutting him off. “Yes, I want to work for you.”

“And you’ll make cakes? That’s something you want to do?”

I nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“No.”

Henry scowled. “What? Why?”

“I want to make cakes for you first. Before you hire me.”

“The Great Cake Challenge?” Henry asked with a grin.

“The Great Cake Challenge.”

“Sounds good. And maybe you can help me figure out who’s going through the trash. It’s not like it’s a huge mess, but it’s getting really annoying.” Henry paused, his eyes catching mine as if he’d said too much.

“Wait.” I shifted on his lap. It was actually ridiculous how much I liked being this close to him. “Are they still doing that?”

Henry cocked a brow, and I ducked my head.

“Explain,” he demanded, tilting my chin up.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

Henry waited patiently. No anger, no threat, no disgust.

Just Henry being the caring, gentle man I’d grown to trust to the depths of my soul .

Swallowing down my guilt, I launched into my story. “I left home in a hurry. When I got off the bus outside of town, Haven Grove was the closest place to me based on signs. I liked the idea of a haven, so I walked this way. I had some money, but it wasn’t enough to get a place to stay for more than a night or two, so I wandered around until I found the bench out back.” I buried my face again. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’ve meant to tell you for so long, I just never could find the right time after I let it go on forever.”

Henry smirked and brushed a hand over my hair. “It’s okay. I should have figured it out a lot sooner. I feel ridiculous for how long it took me to put two and two together.”

“You knew?” I asked.

He lifted one shoulder. “Not for long. Just since you moved in and the food I left wasn’t eaten. But then the trash kept getting messed up, so I wasn’t sure what to make of that.”

“What? Oh god, no. I didn’t do the trash.” I chewed on the flannel cuff. “That first night, I saw them tearing into the trash. I should have run them off, but I saw you left a blanket and pillow, and I thought it was my lucky day. When you left out food, I nearly cried with relief. My money lasted so much longer because of those leftovers, thank you.”

Henry’s hand on my back detoured to give my hip a squeeze. “Glad I could help.”

“I should have told you. Should have told them to knock that shit off.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “But I didn’t want to call attention to myself, and as long as you thought someone was digging through the trash for food, you kept the leftovers coming. You were my guardian angel.”