If Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter Three Jamie

Chapter Three

Jamie

Twenty minutes later, four ramekins were in the oven. The remainder of the process had gone relatively smooth, save another fit of laughter when the recipe instructed them to fold in the egg whites, for which they’d simultaneously slid into character as David and Moira Rose without missing a beat.

“Stop peeking.”

May shot up from where she’d been crouching at the oven window. “Why?”

“There’s nothing we can do now but wait. They’ll rise or they won’t. We succeeded or we failed, and it’s time to let them go. What happens, happens.”

“Extreme Baker Jamie is back, I see.”

He held back a grin. “Who-Cares-If-We-Chill-the-Batter-or-Not May is suddenly very interested in the outcome.”

“Fine.” She pursed her lips and leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I won’t peek if you give me a secret.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

Her beautiful gray eyes were steady on his. He moved his glasses higher on his nose. One of his nervous tells, according to his sister. “I kind of think I might tell you everything if you asked.”

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. She dropped her gaze to the floor, but her lips tipped up. “Probably don’t have time for that.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed a palm across his jaw. There wasn’t much he’d say he intentionally hid from people, but one thing he’d always sort of kept to himself came to mind. “Okay, I’ve got one. Don’t judge me, though.”

“No promises.”

“Every Monday, I bring home a fresh bouquet of flowers. Just for me.” She didn’t laugh, so he kept going. “It might sound weird and not typical for a guy, but plants are my life’s work and they’re beautiful. It makes me happy to walk in and see them.”

Heat crept up his neck when she didn’t respond right away. Probably the only other person who knew this about him was Ian, his buddy and the owner of the nursery where he worked. But Ian loved plants even more than Jamie, so he’d be the last person to give Jamie a hard time.

Unlike Jamie’s dad and brother, who had stopped by unannounced a couple of months back. Jamie’d barely had time to process the fact that they’d stepped out of their ivory tower downtown to slum it with him, so it was even more impressive that he’d managed to stash his bouquet in the cabinet under the sink before they came in. He wasn’t embarrassed, exactly, but he didn’t need to hand his dad more ammo than the man packed on his own.

He was seconds away from assuming she was a woman who preferred a man more stereotypically masculine, and who was now wishing this date was over, when an unguarded smile spread across her face. “That’s ... one of the best things I’ve ever heard. That would make me happy, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely, yes. Though, I don’t know how you afford flowers every week. That’s some expensive happiness.”

“Nah, I get them at cost from the nursery I work for. You wouldn’t believe floral markup. I get them for next to nothing.”

“Oh, I believe it. Capitalism at its best, right?”

“Yep,” he said with a dry laugh. “Your turn.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Hmm?”

He cocked a brow. “To tell a secret.”

“I don’t have any,” she said with a shrug, picking at her thumbnail.

“Liar.”

Her hands dropped to her sides, and she let out the most adorable growl he’d ever heard. “Okay, fine! Give me a second.” She tipped her head back, thinking, then settled her gaze back on him. He waited patiently, enjoying the excuse to just look at her. A few seconds passed, and he realized she seemed to be doing the same.

“Is the secret on my face?” he ventured.

A breathy laugh escaped her, and she hesitated a beat before she said, “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

Her words sent his stomach falling like an elevator that just dropped two floors. Which was kind of ridiculous, right? It was simple flirtation.

But when had anything in his life ever felt this real, so soon? Normally he’d try to play it cool, at least through the end of the first date and probably the second, too. But something about this woman’s charming vulnerability obliterated any bid for pretense. “I like looking at you, too.”

She bit her lip and glanced away again. She seemed comfortable with him, and as far as he could tell, she was having a good time. But there were moments, like now, where she seemed almost ... shy. Inexperienced, as if some of her bolder statements had surprised even her. She was so pretty and funny that it was impossible she wasn’t turning away interested guys at every turn.

Had she had a bad experience? Did it have anything to do with why she was here? The protectiveness that filled his chest the moment she’d said she was dealing with something unpleasant had already alarmed him. He didn’t need to add any more fuel to that fire.

God, he hoped he’d see her again after tonight.

She spoke again, her voice so quiet he almost missed it, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was her secret. “Sometimes I feel like no one really understands me.”

Her tone was matter of fact, as if it was something she’d been dealing with for a while and had resigned herself to a lifetime of being misunderstood. Jamie had good friends he could be himself around, but when it came to his family, he knew exactly where she was coming from.

A long, quiet moment passed. When she let out another sigh and her shoulders dipped under some unseen burden, he took two steps forward. Sidling up beside her, he slid one arm around her shoulders.

A friendly side hug, that’s all.

But then she leaned in and snuggled closer, resting her head at the edge of his collarbone. The temptation to turn and wrap her up in a full embrace was strong, but he forced himself to stay put.

He spoke into her hair. “I feel that way sometimes, too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t elaborate on what she’d meant. Neither did he.

They remained that way until the timer dinged, and Jamie pulled out their soufflés—two of which had risen to glorious heights.

“Those two were mine,” May said immediately.

“The batter was the same. There’s no ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’”

“I poured those two. I’m sure of it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want to argue, but the gentleman in me is pushing back hard.”

She grinned and grabbed a spoon, but he held up a hand. “Wait, there’s one last step in the recipe. There should be a chocolate bar and a peeler around somewhere so we can add shavings to the top.”

He looked around for a few seconds before realizing she hadn’t moved, and then he noticed her scrunched nose and pursed lips. “What? What’s wrong?” Did he have something on his face?

“Do whatever you want to yours,” she said, gesturing to the sad, sunken soufflés. “But that would completely ruin this for me. I hate chocolate.”

He stared at her. Blinked.

Stared some more.

Her expression transitioned into an eye roll. “It’s not that weird.”

“Hold on. I think I’m dissociating.”

“Stop it.”

“Are you serious? You don’t like chocolate?” He’d once eaten four of his sister’s chocolate-mousse brownies in a single sitting. No regrets.

“ Hate ’s a pretty strong word and one I rarely use, but in this case it’s warranted. I can’t even stand the smell of it.”

“ What? ”

She put the spoon down and put a few fingers to her forehead. “God, you’re acting like I just grew a second head.”

“That would be less shocking. I can’t even wrap my mind around this. People who don’t like chocolate don’t exist.”

She looked like she was about to argue, then stopped and cocked her head. “Does that mean I’m like ... a unicorn?”

He laughed, the image of her with a golden horn popping up unbidden in his brain. “Or a narwhal.”

She laughed a little, too, but regarded him with a slight frown. “The fact that you basically just compared me to a whale aside, you know narwhals are real, right?”

“What?”

“Narwhals aren’t mystical creatures. They actually exist.”

Okay, he wasn’t falling for chocolate aversion and narwhals. “No way.”

The delighted smile on her face was so charming, it simultaneously made him second-guess himself and want to kiss it off her face. “I swear.” She pulled out her phone, tapped a few things on the screen, and handed it to him. “Look.”

He took her phone and saw a search page with several narwhal hits. He swiped through slowly, looking at images that did look awfully legit ... but the things people could do with Photoshop and AI these days was wild. But, oh God, there was one from National Geographic . And the World Wildlife Fund? With actual videos of these huge beasts with massive spears sprouting from their foreheads. What did they do with the horns? How did they not poke each other or get them tangled up in seaweed all the time?

He had so many questions.

Too amazed to be embarrassed, he handed her phone back. “I wonder what else is real?” he said more to himself.

She leaned in as if to impart some great secret. “People who don’t like chocolate, that’s what.”

The happy, carefree look on her face was such a one-eighty from moments ago after she’d told her secret that he’d repeat looking like a fool a hundred times over just to keep it there. “Fine, I believe you. Since we’re skipping the chocolate shavings, can we eat now?”

May clapped and picked up a spoon. She scooped a healthy serving, watching the steam rise. She gently waved the spoon between them, blowing on it. Finally, she lifted the spoon and stopped an inch from his mouth.

His brows rose. “For me?”

She nodded.

He grinned and closed his lips around the spoon, his eyelids falling closed in an instant. The rich vanilla flavor and spongy texture were absolute perfection. “Oh my God.”

“Good?”

“So. Good.”

She went back and took her own heaping bite. Her chin tipped back as a groan slid from her throat. He clenched his jaw at the sound, frustrated his body immediately assumed the sound was directed at him. It only got worse when she gently placed her hand on his chest, nodding.

“We’re real good at this. We win for sure.”

He swallowed. “I, uh, don’t think it’s a competition.”

“No?”

“Nah. It’s just a class for fun.”

She didn’t seem to hear him as she went for another bite, more sounds coming from her lips that had his chest rising a little faster. He took in the very public space around them and scooted back a step, muttering to himself, “This was definitely a bad idea.”