Chapter 3
Mallory
The hotel I’m staying at has brewed coffee and a small assortment of bagels and yogurts that you can grab and eat. But nothing looks overly appetizing. I need caffeine, protein, and sugar.
Not like the cases of sweets at the Spice Spice Baby Bakery.
I skip a shower, pull my hair into a ponytail, and tug on a thick black cardigan.
Pairs perfectly with my black fleece leggings and long colorful tunic top.
It’d be cute as is but I still need my peacoat, red leather gloves, black and white plaid scarf, a pair of earmuffs, and my snow boots.
Now I am fully prepared for this Montana weather.
I remember my laptop and charger and tuck my sketchbook in my tote bag just in case I get an idea.
The walk to the bakery is just long enough that my nose is cold and I’m sure my cheeks are bright red.
I enter the warm bakery and take a deep inhale.
Scents of cardamom, cinnamon, and anise waft into my nose.
Today, I decide to grab a peppermint mocha with whipped cream and an extra shot of espresso.
I pair it with an almond croissant. After I order I decide to sit at one of the larger wooden tables.
I take off all my winter gear and open my laptop.
Much to my friends’ dismay I’m sifting through my emails.
While this vacation is a great break, it doesn’t change the fact that when I fly back to Québec, I don’t have a job.
I managed to move from my amazing downtown apartment to a studio a few blocks away.
But unemployment makes my skin itch. I’ve been so focused on my career that I don’t know what else to do.
I check my phone after I reply to a few emails and portfolio requests. The group chat is blowing up.
Lucy: Please tell me you signed up for salsa dancing tonight, Mal. Or have you already been swept off your feet?
Selena: Maybe by a billionaire looking for love? Or a firefighter that just needs to meet the one?
Lucy: Selena, you need to get your nose out of the books and meet me for cocktails. Unless you did find a handsome firefighter to keep warm over there in the states Mal. In which case, send photos.
Selena: Yes please! (to cocktails and cock photos)
Lucy: *laughing emoji*
Mallory: I met one guy…he’s a single dad. But we’re just going to the pancake dinner at the fire station. His daughter got lost yesterday and he wanted to thank me for finding her. No big deal.
Lucy: Ahhh. Well, if the firefighters are cooking shirtless, send pics.
Selena: As long as you’re not working.
Lucy: Tell us about the guy.
Mallory: I don’t know much. He’s a muscular looking ginger. He has a trim beard and green eyes. Great smile. His daughter is adorable.
Selena: Wear jeans and a tight sweater. Show off the assets! And then fill us in tomorrow.
Mallory: Will do!
We continue to chat about what they’re up to and by the time the texts start to fizzle I’m ready to order a peppermint tea and a fruit cup. I open up some old mood boards on my laptop and pull out my sketchbook. I get lost in sketching until someone taps me on the shoulder and spooks me.
“Sorry, just wanted to see what you were sketching.” A guy asks, he’s in one of the bakery aprons with a name tag that says “Dylan.”
“No worries,” I smile and show my sketchbook page.
I used to be self-conscious about my sketches.
Like each design was too personal to share.
I hated criticism and got nervous for feedback.
I used to be a nail bitter. But after college and job hunting I developed thick skin.
And a love for my own style. My croquis forms aren’t the normal super tall and slender forms like most of my coworkers.
My feminine bodies tend to have thicker thighs and more to their waist. Plus, I lean towards bright colors instead of skin tones.
Which means the beaded emerald and black gown I’m sketching is over a bright blue curvy body with a fancy updo in purple.
“This is great,” Dylan lets out a long whistle. “You have a knack for color, even with the black. I like your shading.” He points to the way the fabric folds and how it looks as if it’s moving without wind.
“Thank you,” I grin. “What’s your role here at the bakery?” He sits down next to me.
“I’m the cake decorator,” he extends his hand and I shake it. “I’m Dylan,” he taps the name tag.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mallory. Do you draw? Or paint?”
“In my spare time I enjoy painting and sculpting. Though I don’t have a lot of free time with being a single dad and all.”
“Are all the employees here single parents?”
“Pretty much. It’s great. We all have something in common. And it’s a real hit for the women in town,” he laughs and I can’t help but join. Dylan is easy to chat with. He doesn’t make me nervous like Jake does.
“You work with Jake then,” I slip his name into the conversation and watch as Dylan narrows his eyes for a moment before they widen in amusement.
“Ah, you must be the one he had to cancel on. He was torn up about that.”
“Actually, we’re all going to the pancake dinner.”
“Him and Char? Interesting.” Dylan tilts his head slightly, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
“It should be fun. Unless the pancakes aren’t good. Then I’ll be disappointed.” He chuckles and asks how long I’m in town for. “Almost two weeks. My friends sent me here for the Heart-to-Heart Festival. Apparently, Valentine, Montana is the hot spot for singles. Who knew?” I shrug my shoulders.
“We do our best,” he grins. “Word of advice, or I suppose it’s more of a small note. Jake doesn’t really date. Like ever.”
“Ever?” Even I go on the occasional date. I haven’t really had a serious relationship last longer than a year and a half though.
“Charlotte comes first. Always has and probably always will.”
“I get that. But thanks for the heads up. It’s not like I’m here for long anyways. Just the festival and I’m back to Québec City.”
“He may tell you but he may not, he’s had his heart broken before. Just go easy on him.” I’m about to reply when someone comes over to ask Dylan about a wedding cake order. He excuses himself and I find myself alone once more.
I had assumed that the lack of wedding band and dinner offer meant Jake was single. To know he’s also healing from heartache is a line I would hesitate to cross. Especially with me leaving. Who knows, we may not even get along.
Though a little fun is the reason I’m here.
After a little longer I head back to the hotel to take a break in their sauna, shower, and unwind with a book.
Then I’m dressed in a navy and green striped sweater and my skinny jeans.
They hug my hips but have enough stretch in them to be practical.
I grab my purse and pull on my winter gear.
It’s almost six so I head to the bakery to meet Jake and Charlotte.
I see Charlotte before I spot Jake sitting inside. I say hi to the duo and Charlotte wraps her arms around my legs. It surprises me and I feel my cheeks start to hurt from the wide grin I have plastered on my face.
“Ready for pancakes?” Jakes asks and I nod. He scoops Charlotte up and holds the door open for me as we leave.
We walk side by side in silence for a moment before Charlotte asks me why I’m in Montana.
“I’m here for the festival. And I really like pancakes,” she giggles at my reply.
“That’s a long flight for breakfast food,” Jake states as he sets Charlotte down and the fire station comes into view.
“True. This town is on the small side, isn’t it? That walk was short.” I look up and down the street dotted with various brick buildings.
“It has everything you could possibly need though.” He points out the pharmacy across the street, a diner with a bright neon open sign, and the flower shop a few storefronts down. “Also, the best bakery in Montana,” he beams.
We enter the fire station and there are large tables set up and a few men in navy outfits walking around with plates piled high with pancakes. The room smells like maple syrup and sugar.
“It smells amazing.” We find a few seats and start to take coats off. “Is it okay that you’re not a single at the festival?” I nod to Charlotte trying to unzip her puffer coat.
“First,” he goes to help Charlotte with her coat, “I’m single. And secondly, it’s one of the kid friendly events they have for the festival. Besides, all the firefighters are friends.”
“Can I sit by you?” Charlotte asks me and Jake’s demeanor teeters between amusement and concern.
“Of course,” I help her into the seat between Jake and myself. Now it feels less like a somewhat blind date and more of a casual family outing.
A family I don’t belong to.
“How about I grab us a few plates then? Sausage or bacon?”
Both Charlotte and I reply with bacon at the same time and we giggle. Jake smiles and heads off to grab food. My eyes are glued to his ass as he walks away.
Thank God for tight jeans.
Although I bet that he’s fit from all the biking he does for his job.
I look down at my sweater and jean combo.
I’m not really a sports person. I probably own one workout outfit and it’s for when Lucy or Selena drag me to yoga.
Which is almost always followed by a boozy brunch.
I wonder what Jake and I have in common.
I watch as he gets stopped by multiple people and ends up chatting with a few.
“Do you make pancakes?” Charlotte asks me and I pull my attention back to her.
“Sometimes. I prefer waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”
“You can make waffles?” she squeals. “Can you make me waffles tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow.” Her smile fades and I quickly add, “but maybe another time. We’ll ask your dad.”
I didn’t expect to bond with a child during this trip meant for relaxing and getting back into the swing of dating. But Charlotte is too cute.
“Alright ladies,” Jake returns with a tray of food. “Two pancake plates with bacon.” He sets them down and adds, “and some hot chocolate.” Jake cuts one of the pancakes up and then Charlotte starts to dig in.
“So, Jake,” I sip the hot cocoa. “What do you do when you’re not working?”
“Besides the usual tea parties and princess movies?” his eyebrows raise.
“Of course,” I munch on the bacon. “Do you bake? Or hike?” I scrunch my face, “I’m not actually sure what there is to do in Montana. I only came for this festival and the spa services.”
“I love to cook actually,” he cuts another pancake for Charlotte. I realize he hasn’t really eaten anything on his plate yet. He’s been making sure Charlotte has her food then he takes a small bite or drink.
“I’m a terrible cook. The stories my kitchen would tell,” I laugh.
Before he comments we get interrupted by another small child.
The girl is clearly friends with Charlotte because they both shriek when they see each other.
Charlotte asks if she can go play and Jake tells her yes but that she needs to stay in the fire station.
She nods a million times before running off.
“Sorry about that,” he grimaces. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting on a thank you dinner date.” He gestures to the paper plates with syrup covered pancakes and the busy fire station around us.
“In a way it’s nicer than a steak house.” His face twists in confusion so I continue, “it lets me see more of Valentine as a regular person would, not just a tourist.”
“Ahh,” he nods. “Well, you already know my job and that I have a daughter. Since I’m terrible at small talk, and I’m used to everyone in town already knowing each other’s business, how about we share a little bit more about ourselves upfront.
Get those first date bits out of the way.
Besides, I know you’re here for the festival so you can think of it as practice. ”
“Sure, you first.” I continue to eat my pancakes. I’m intrigued by what all he wants to share.
“I’ve never been married and I served in the army.
It was a stint right out of high school so that I could pay for college.
I’m not close to my family, they didn’t like the army decision.
And I followed a girl out here, which is how I ended up in Montana despite being an East Coaster all my life. What about you?”
“Not much to tell. I’m from Québec, born and raised.
My parents retired and we don’t see each other much.
They travel a lot. I’m a clothing designer.
Or I was, I got laid off. One day I want to run my own business and have a clothing line.
I like to read thrillers. I’m not super outdoorsy though I love a picnic in the park if that counts.
Hmmm,” I shove a piece of pancake in my mouth.
“I think that’s it. Oh wait, I know your last name from the card you gave me. My last name is Morin.”
“That is a lot of information Mallory Morin.” He stresses my last name.
I scoot a chair over, taking Charlotte’s empty spot. Now our arms are touching as we sit side by side. I lean in to whisper, in my best flirty tone as possible, “your accent is cute.”
“I can say the same about yours.” He laughs before he takes my hand once more. The action surprises me, a warmth seems to blossom in my chest and spread through my limbs.
Am I falling for Jake?
The single dad who clearly loves his daughter with his entire being. He’s kind, caring, and more than anything, I want to see him naked.
Maybe it’s just lust. Maybe if he leans in a little more, I could steal a kiss.
Maybe if I had more time in town I could see where this goes.
Always another maybe, another daydream.
I sip on my hot cocoa as Jake asks me about my job.