Love on Call: A Sweet Fake Fiancé Romantic Comedy

Chapter 3

CLAY

My empty stomach grumbles at the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pastries when I step into Sweet by Design. I’ve been tasked with collecting breakfast for our hungry crew. The bakery buzzes with customers, and I’m greeted by the sight of Marg”s boisterous niece behind the counter. Oh, man. Is she going to blast my eardrum again?

She manages a polite smile when she sees me, a stark contrast to our heated exchange at the resort pool yesterday. I’d been trying to juggle a phone call and didn’t realize I was the one left to keep an eye on Rex as he enthusiastically performed his cannonballs. Understandably she was concerned about resort rules and safety and assumed I was Rex”s dad. The woman sure didn’t hold back in giving me a piece of her mind.

I approach the counter, determined to mend the awkward encounter. “Morning,” I attempt to sound cheerful despite the memory of our clash. “I’d like to order some breakfast, please.”

She nods, her expression composed. “Of course. What can I get for you today?”

I glance at the display of pastries and inhale the scent of baked bread. “Let’s see... I’ll have seven croissants, a couple of cinnamon rolls, two blueberry muffins, two strawberry . . .” I tap my chin. “. . . and three orange and poppyseed muffins to go.”

She begins assembling my order, her hands moving swiftly. “Any drinks with that?”

I smile, relieved that the tension seems to have eased. “I’ll grab a coffee for myself. I’m not a fan of the instant back at the resort.”

As she prepares my order, I shift on my feet before breaking the ice. “By the way, I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” I say, my voice sincere. “I didn”t get a chance to explain, but I”m not Rex”s dad. I got an urgent call from the hospital.”

She glances up from her task, her jaw dropping. “Oh, was everything all right?”

“I’m a doctor. A nurse had some follow-up questions for one of my patients. Usually, they don’t call me when I’m on vacation. But in this case, I’m glad I took the call.”

She swipes her arm across her forehead, leaving a smudge of flour. She looks even cuter up close, her green eyes captivating.

“I shouldn”t have come to conclusions without asking anything,” she murmurs. “Where were his parents?”

“Pam must’ve gone off to the unit and trusted that I was able to babysit Rex for a few minutes. He knows how to swim pretty well. Pam brags how he’s been taking lessons since he was a baby.”

“Mm. Except for reading lessons so he can figure out the pool rules.” She grins sheepishly. “Just kidding. Sorry for going all school principal on you.”

I nod, grateful for her understanding. “No worries. It was a crazy moment. By the way, I’m Clay.”

“I’m Kat. Nice to meet you, Clay.” She places a lid on my coffee and hands it over with the rest of the order.

I take the breakfast bags and tap my card on the machine. “Thanks.” I lift my paper cup.

Kat leans on one hip. “So, what kind of doctor are you, Clay?”

“I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

She raises an eyebrow. “A surgeon? Makes sense why you had to answer the call.”

I nod. “Yeah, sometimes work takes over, even on vacation.”

Kat smiles warmly. “I understand the industry. I’m a remote admin assistant for a medical firm.”

I’m intrigued. “That”s interesting. And it”s totally cool that you can work from Nantucket.”

She peeks over her shoulder, perhaps checking if her boss needs her, before answering. “A lot of people are doing it this way these days. I’m staying at the Rose Resort with my aunt. My parents own the unit I’m living in. Thought I’d take a break from the hustle of the city.”

“Wish I could do the same. You’re fortunate to have that option.” I peer into the kitchen area. “And you work here as well?”

“Oh, no. I’m helping my cousin. Her hubby is sick, and she has a wedding cake order. She’ll pay me in doughnuts and coffee.”

“Nice.” I stare at the smear of flour on her forehead. Should I tell her?

Kat scrunches her nose and touches her head, brushing more flour into her bangs. “Do I have something on my face?”

My ears go hot. It’s a weird thing that happens to me when I get embarrassed. It doesn’t happen much. Not since high school, like when I tried to talk to a pretty girl or ask them on a date. This is not that situation, and I’m thirty-six now. I should be over it. Hopefully, my ears aren’t blazing red.

I gesture to her hair. “Looks like flour.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” She laughs and fluffs out her bangs. “Is it gone now?”

I lean across the counter and brush the spot above her brow. As soon as my fingers touch Kat’s skin, an electric sensation shoots up my arm, sending goosebumps all over my body.

“Now it has.” I swallow hard.

Kat’s eyes go wide for a moment. We’re both frozen in place, staring at each other.

“Thanks.” Her voice comes out like a breath. She clears her throat and steps back, averting her gaze. “I—I better keep working.” She turns around and moves on to serve another customer.

I stand there dazed, trying to make sense of what happened. This is ridiculous. I’m a grown man, not a lovesick teenager. But the way Kat looked at me just now, the way her skin felt under my touch, that electric zap . . . it’s like nothing that’s ever happened to me before.

I shake my head and force myself to focus. I grab the breakfast bags and coffee and head out of the bakery. The morning air is cool and refreshing from yesterday’s heat, and I take a deep breath to clear my head.

As I cross the street, someone calls my name. “Clay. Hey, Clay, wait up.”

It’s Adam. The Australian in our group. “Thought you might need a hand.” He points to the bags.

“I’m managing okay. But thanks for the offer.”

“I also came to get some of Ellie”s cookies. Melanie remembered the oatmeal ones she had here and pretty much demanded that I buy all of them.”

I chuckle. “She”s not pregnant, is she?”

His eyes go wide. “I don”t know. Is that a symptom?”

“Demanding her husband buy the shop’s stock of her favorite treats might be a sign.”

“Oh, man. That could explain a few things.”

KAT

I’m tempted to lock the door behind Clay and go home to bury my head under the covers. I made such a fool of myself yesterday. I mean, I was right to make sure Rex didn’t get hurt, but accusing Clay like that was not my best moment.

I blame the stress and anxiety that ate up six months of my life last year. A groan slips out. I grip the edge of the counter and roll my head from side to side.

“Could I get another of those blueberry muffins?” An older woman taps her fingernail against the glass pane separating her from her tasty treat. Her fingertip leaves a smudge that I’ll have to clean up later. A groan tightens my throat. It’s basic human nature to tap the glass, but I really wish people understood how hard Ellie works—and me when I’m helping out—to keep the glass spotless.

Focus. I need to focus on getting this job done and helping Ellie. “Here you are, Mrs. Wilson.” My smile is tight as I slide the muffin over and take her money in return.

A harried-looking man rushes through the door. “You have any of those oatmeal cookies?”

I recognize him from the group who checked into the resort yesterday. “Sure.” I fish one of the chewy oatmeal cookies from the tray.

“I need all of them.” He rubs his hands together and swallows hard. “My wife wants all of them.”

“No problem.” I’ve filled weirder requests. This one isn’t even top ten on the levels of strange I’ve encountered. “Would you like anything else with them? Clay didn’t take any drinks.” I hesitate before continuing. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Adam.” He scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “Nothing to drink. Thank you.”

“Here you go.” I eye the stack of cookies. “Twenty-two oatmeal cookies.” The scent of oatmeal and sugar fills my nose and I brush the back of my hand over my forehead, remembering Clay’s touch earlier. My face fills with heat at the memory. I’ve been in and out of the kitchen all morning. I probably look awful. Humidity and my hair are a guaranteed recipe for disaster. I blow a breath straight up into my bangs. What do I care if Clay saw me with wild hair and flour on my face?

“Thanks.” Adam slides his card, takes the bag, and is out the door with another thanks and a wave, taking off like his life depends on getting those cookies back to his wife.

Mrs. Wilson chuckles from her seat a few feet away. The chatter from her and her friends has been a nice reprieve from my own chaotic thoughts today. I never mind helping Ellie out, and it’s not just because of the free sweets.

“I’m almost done.” Ellie sticks her head out of the back where she’s been working all morning on finalizing the wedding cake. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Playing with cookie aesthetics is way easier than managing medical data. I love my job, though. “You’re almost out of muffins, and Adam just took all the oatmeal cookies.”

“Melanie must be reliving her honeymoon.” Ellie chuckles and tips her head toward the front door. “I’ll take over in a little bit.”

“Take your time.” I’d much rather stick around at the bakery than risk making a fool of myself around Clay again. Which is exactly what will happen if I run into him at the resort.

I can’t believe I acted that way yesterday. No wonder he looked uncomfortable when he walked in and then when he apologized. I feel like a fool, but it doesn’t really matter. Clay and

his family will be gone soon, and I’ll never see them again.

All for the best, really. When I think about Clay and the shadows in his eyes, I remember why I don’t do relationships. Love is not happening for me. Not ever again.

“You want to see it?” Ellie asks. She motions for me to join her in the kitchen. “Come on. If anyone needs anything, they’ll ring the bell.”

The Joneses and their bells. I roll my eyes at her but follow my cousin into the spacious kitchen. Flour floats in the air, creating a sparkling haze that reminds me of cotton candy. The air smells sweet and fresh from the cakes and other delicious treats.

I can’t help staggering to a stop as my mouth drops open with a pop when I catch sight of the cake Ellie has been working on all day. “Whoa.”

“I know, right?” Ellie claps her hands, sending up a plume of flour. No. I taste the air. Not flour. Powdered sugar.

I walk around the counter and eye the cake from every side. Ellie deserves the praise, and it’s easy to give it. “This is amazing. You sure you don’t want to go on one of those baking shows?”

Ellie’s laughter is quick and light. “No way. I get enough excitement here without all that added TV drama. Just watching Liam and Trina’s reality TV show had my heart pumping.”

“Who and what now?” I scrunch my nose. “Why do I feel like I should know those names?”

“Trina and Liam.” Ellie waves a hand, sending another puff of powdered sugar up into the air. She must have been using it to keep the fondant from sticking to her hands. “They came here for their honeymoon. Mom about had a fit when the producers told her what they were up to. Then they ended up actually falling in love. It was so sweet.”

“Wait, Liam Ashley.” The names I saw on the computer screen when I booked a reservation for someone yesterday finally made sense. “Clay Ashley.”

Ellie’s grin grew into a full-blown smile. “Aren’t they adorable? Mom says she’d never have known they were brothers until she saw them goofing off at the pool together.”

The mention of the pool causes my face to heat again. I may never live down that moment where I blasted Clay. I feel like I owe him more of an apology, but since I plan on staying away from him, it’s really not necessary. He can enjoy his vacation and hopefully lose a little of that bleakness from his eyes.

“Why don’t you go home?” Ellie grips my elbow, tugging my attention back to her face. “I can handle the front now that I’m done with the cake.”

“You don’t need to deliver it or anything?” I give the cake another long look. Ellie really has outdone herself with this one. The four tiers are perfectly proportioned and balanced against each other. White fondant roses start at the bottom and climb each tier, ending in a cascade at the top where a pop of matching red roses represent the bride and groom.

Ellie shakes her head. “Nope. They’re getting married nearby and having the reception at the church across the street. It’ll be no problem to carry it over when it’s time.” She pats the wheeled cart where the cake sits. “That’s the whole reason I bought this thing.”

I can’t deny that I’d love to spend some time on the beach today. I’ve been back on Nantucket for a while but I’ve been so wound up that I spend all my time working.

And I called Clay a workaholic. The thought makes up my mind for me. Time to get out and enjoy some Nantucket beach therapy. Sunshine and waves, that’s what I need.