Chapter 19
19
There are no indications I spent the night huddled under the covers hysterically sobbing when I wake up the next morning. My skin is as clear and blemish free as every morning in Heart Springs. There aren’t even any dark circles under my eyes like I normally have at home. It’s like the whole thing never happened. Apparently all the bruises are internal, located right in my chest.
Maybe my outer self is on to something. Maybe I need to pretend like the whole thing never happened. Because really, what has changed between last night and this morning? I still need to save the bakery. I still need to somehow fall in love.
I still want nothing more than to get the hell out of here.
And I know the exact way to make that happen.
I swing by the bakery early, before even Emma has stepped on the premises. I make a latte and grab a muffin left over from the day before.
I find Noah right where I expected to: sitting at his desk, leafing through a stack of papers because even high-powered lawyers don’t seem to rely on the internet here.
Forcing a timid smile across my lips, I hand him the latte and muffin. “I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”
He eyes me warily before accepting my offerings. “If you weren’t feeling well, you weren’t feeling well.” He takes a small sip of the coffee. “Are you feeling better today?”
There are layers to his question, and I parse them out before answering so I can give him an honest response. “I had some things I needed to figure out, but I think my head is clearer now.”
His smile is warm and crinkles the edges of his eyes. “Glad to hear it. I want this to work, Cam.”
“Me too.” I nod resolutely, as if that can make the sentiment be true.
But I know I can make it true. I wanted to be a lawyer, so I became a lawyer. I wanted to make partner, so I made partner.
If I want to fall in love with Noah Crenshaw, then I will fall in love with Noah Crenshaw.
“Do you want to try for dinner again tonight? Maybe something a little more low-key?” I offer, hoping if I fake the excitement for long enough, it will become real.
“Sure. Your place or mine?” He leans back in his chair, his hands laced across his stomach.
“Yours.” The last thing I need is Noah coming to my place.
He studies me like he can see right through me, and I really hope this whole everyone-in-Heart-Springs-knows-everything doesn’t mean they have some sort of emotional x-ray vision capabilities. “Why don’t you come over at seven?”
“Sounds great!” With a smile and a wave that I hope look natural, I head out of the office and back to the bakery.
Emma greets me with her normal warm smile when I push through the door. “Good morning!”
“Morning.” I do my best to keep the enthusiasm in my voice, but judging by the slight pull down of her lips, I don’t do a good job.
“Everything okay?”
For a second, I think about confiding in her. Emma has proven to be nothing but a basically perfect friend, always with a warm smile and a warm hug and a warm cookie. But my walls are thick and high, long-standing and not so easy to knock down. If I let Emma in, I run the risk of her hurting me. Ben came close enough to breaking through my barriers and look how that turned out.
So instead of telling her the truth, I force another smile. “Everything is great! I went over to see Noah this morning, and he’s going to make me dinner tonight.”
He didn’t actually say he’s going to make dinner but I’m going to be at his house at dinnertime so I figure some kind of meal can be assumed.
Emma’s eyes tighten. “Oh. Great.” She turns away from me, heading back to the kitchen.
I follow her. I still can’t claim to be great at opening up to people, but if anyone deserves insight into my feelings in this situation, it’s Emma.
“I promise that I won’t let whatever happens between me and Noah affect the fight for the bakery, Emma.” I grab the bowl from the top shelf that she’d been standing on tippy toes trying to reach, and hand it to her before tying an apron around my waist. “You know I’m going to find a way to save the bakery, but I also feel like I owe it to myself to be open to falling in love.” I come this close to spilling the whole thing to Emma, to telling her about my life back in New York and what I have to do in order to get home, but I manage to keep myself in check. “I never meant for my move to Heart Springs to be permanent, you know.”
“Would staying be such a terrible thing?” She turns those big brown eyes on me and the genuine question softens them.
I hesitate before I answer, because I don’t know how to answer. When I first arrived in Heart Springs, I could think of nothing I wanted more than to get the hell out. But despite my resistance, I’ve made a little life for myself here. I have a job I enjoy, even if it isn’t necessarily one I ever envisioned for myself. I have friends in Ben and Emma, and maybe even Mimi, even if I do continue to hold part of myself back from them. And I have this thing with Noah. A man that is, on paper, perfect for me.
But this isn’t my real life. Maybe there are things I’ll want to do differently when I return home. Maybe there will be parts of Heart Springs that stay with me even when I make it back to New York.
And I do want to return to New York, to home. I think.
“I’ll miss you if and when I leave, but I promise I won’t go before making sure you and the bakery will be okay.” I turn away from Emma’s pleading look, grabbing ingredients from the fridge and setting up to mix fresh muffin batter. “And if I have anything to say about it, I’m also going to do my best to make sure you and a certain someone go on a date before I go.” I will rig the date auction so that Ethan wins Emma’s date if I have to.
“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that’s a lost cause.” She shoos me away from the muffin bowl, handing me a tray of cooling croissants to take out to the front. “Now get back to work.” Her command lacks bite and is paired with a smile, and I know I will never have another boss quite like Emma again.
—
I dress casually for dinner at Noah’s, in jeans and a soft sweater that when I tug it just right, slips off my shoulder. One thing is for certain: Noah is just my type, physically speaking, and maybe if we can find some chemistry, it will help open the floodgates to love.
Good god, I cannot believe the phrase floodgates of love just flitted through my mind completely unbidden. I need to get the hell out of here ASAP.
I close the front door, keeping my eyes firmly planted on the walk in front of me, avoiding any chance of a run-in with Ben.
But because my luck sucks, I hear the click of his gate as I’m latching mine.
I turn toward him before I can stop myself, and my breath catches in my chest.
Gone are the soft T-shirts and plaid flannels he typically wears. Tonight Ben is dressed in a dark green button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to frame his forearms. His jeans have been exchanged for a pair of well-fitting gray slacks that are doing things to the shape of his thighs that are truly just unfair.
I force myself to stop ogling him, directing my eyes to his face. They land there just in time to see his own deep brown eyes lingering on the exposed hint of my collarbone.
“Hi,” I manage to choke out, which seems to bring him back to the present.
His eyes fly to mine. “Hi.”
“Hot date?” I joke before I realize that’s probably exactly where he’s fucking going.
“I suppose. You too?”
“I suppose.”
We stand for a minute, just looking into each other’s eyes, saying nothing and good lord, who knew one could experience so many emotions over the course of a single minute.
“I should go,” I finally say, gesturing helplessly to the sidewalk in front of me.
“Yeah, me too.” Ben turns and starts to head in the exact direction I need to go to get to Noah’s house.
I fall in step next to him and ask the question I’m not sure I want the answer to. “First date with your new friend?”
Ben nods. His arms swing by his side, and I might be imagining it, but it feels like he leans in just a hair so that our hands brush.
A shiver races up my spine, and I put space between us.
Ben shoves his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sure the two of you will have a lovely date. Unless she turns out to be a total disaster like me.” I’m not usually one for self-deprecating comments—I know who I am and what I’ve got—but something about Ben going on this date is seriously messing with my head.
“You’re not a total disaster, Cam.”
“Just sort of a disaster?” I joke with a mirthless laugh.
He pointedly ignores me. “It’s just a first date. I’m not even sure why she’s interested in me.”
“She’s interested in you because you’re a good person, Ben. And you’ll make a great date. And an even better partner.”
“You don’t have to lie to build up my confidence, sweetheart.”
I stop in my tracks, reaching for his arm and pulling him to a stop next to me. “Why on earth would you think any of that is a lie?”
He looks at where his arm is still in my grip. I hadn’t even realized I kept hold of him, as if trying to keep him anchored to me. His eyes lock on mine. “I guess it’s hard for me to believe you would think those nice things about me.”
I move a half step closer to him, letting the woodsy scent of him fill my nose. “I think you’re maybe the best man I’ve ever met, Ben.”
He sucks in a breath, and his eyes darken.
It’s the closest either of us has ever come to acknowledging there might be something living in this blank space between us.
He told me to give Noah a chance.
I told him there was no reason for him to not accept his date.
And yet.
His lungs expand—my gaze is caught on his throat, the peek of bare skin where his shirt is unbuttoned, and I watch his breath stutter.
He takes a step back, shaking his head. “I should go. I don’t want to be late.”
Now I’m the one having trouble breathing. “Sure. Me too.”
I gesture for him to go on ahead without me, knowing I can’t possibly stomach walking by his side for another second.
Message from one Dr. Ben Loving clearly received.
He hesitates for a half second, his mouth opening and closing like he might have something to say, but he quickly spins on his heel and hurries down the path, leaving me behind without a second glance.
I dig my nails into the skin of my palms, using the bite of pain to center me, bring me back to the task at hand.
Noah Crenshaw. Falling in love. Getting the hell out of here.