Chapter Four #2
Forcing my mind back to the topic of Theo’s tragic past, I grimaced. “Sorry I asked.”
“Don’t be sorry. It sucks, but it does bode well for a fling.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why is that? Trauma bonding?”
“No,” she protested, laughing. “From what I’ve gathered, Theo swore off love after that—he dates, but he always ends things before he gets too deep.”
“He must have really loved her,” I mused.
What a tragedy. No wonder he’d left town.
I had met Alex on occasion, both when he was visiting their parents and around town, but I’d never really interacted with him for more than a brief greeting or impersonal small talk.
He wasn’t quite as tall or broad as Theo, though his good looks were smoother, more classic.
I wasn’t sure if my view of him was based on anything more than my own history, though.
Alex didn’t exactly remind me of Steve, but he possessed a similar easy sort of charm that made me have to force myself not to recoil when he was nearby, at least in the early months after Steve’s death.
I blinked, realizing that while I wasn’t necessarily relaxed around Theo, I didn’t experience anything like that when he was close to me. Maybe his tendency to blurt out such naked truths reassured me with his very awkwardness.
Or maybe my intuition had recovered from those years with Steve. Maybe I was finally able to see true good in someone again, to sense whatever was below the surface.
It was a moment before I realized Sofia was staring at me, waiting for a reply.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “What did you say?”
She grinned. “Oh, nothing important. I just wondered if you’ll have the food truck at the tree lighting at Town Park?”
“Yes, and the Carolcade.”
If Sofia’s brilliant smile was anything to go by, that was exactly what she wanted to hear. “Awesome. If you change your mind about Thanksgiving, let me know. I’ve got to run, but seriously, thank you for meeting me today. I’ve missed you, honey.”
“I missed you too,” I said quietly as she waved and left the cafe.
The next day, I finished boxing up an order of cupcakes for the elementary school’s “Welcome Winter” concert reception and set them on the counter to run over to the school that afternoon.
With rising rates of food allergies, school events and birthday parties had become the staples of my winter orders.
Happy as I was that kids with allergies wouldn’t feel left out of their school celebrations, I was even more glad that I wouldn’t have to stick around to witness the chaos of first graders on a sugar high.
My job was done once the cupcakes were handed off to the music teacher, and then it would be their parents’ job to deal with them.
No matter how hard I tried to focus on the work in front of me, my mind kept drifting back to everything Sofia had told me about Theo.
Part of me wanted to read the entire story for myself, but I managed not to search the internet for that sad moment in history.
Now that I knew him, it felt like an invasion of privacy to look him up.
Everyone in Spruce Hill knew so many details about my own life—I couldn’t quite bear to be another nosy element in his.
So instead of researching ancient history, I grabbed a spoonful of the leftover peppermint frosting.
After years of critical remarks from Steve about my figure, comments that started out subtle until he’d eventually given up even the facade of civility when we were in private, I still found a deep-rooted satisfaction in eating whatever I pleased.
I’d learned quickly that sampling my products too frequently made me grow sick of even the sweet smell of frosting, but I made sure to enjoy my favorites when I felt like it—and peppermint was a favorite of mine.
These past few years had finally allowed me the freedom to appreciate my curves, a freedom that I wished had come sooner.
Between my sister telling me when I was eleven that I’d clearly been switched at birth, given how my rounded cheeks and sturdy body compared to my mother's and sister’s willowy figures, and Steve’s snide criticisms about what I was eating, my comfort within my own skin had been a battle.
Just before I plopped down on the couch to savor it, my cell phone rang.
Awkwardly juggling the spoon in one hand and the phone in the other, I answered. “Hello?”
I used my personal number for business purposes, which was probably stupid but it kept me organized. Unfortunately, it meant I couldn’t act on my instinct to avoid spam calls and had to answer unknown numbers.
For a moment, there was silence, then a deep sigh and a click as the line went dead.
“Dammit,” I muttered, tossing the phone onto the couch before curling up in one corner with my frosting.
I had just tossed the spoon into the sink when I heard Theo’s pickup pull into the driveway.
For a heartbeat, I froze there in the kitchen, wondering if I should wait until he was inside the house before loading up my boxes.
Then, with a swift shake of my head, I forced myself not to be such a coward.
I wasn’t the frightened, downtrodden wretch Steve had tried to crush me into.
I was a successful business woman making her own way in the world.
I straightened my shoulders and propped the door open before carrying the first of the boxes out toward the food truck.
Should’ve waited, I thought when I saw Theo grinning at the side of the truck.
He snapped to attention when he realized I was walking down the driveway with my arms full. “Please, let me help,” he called.
I nodded my head toward the door at the back of the truck. “If you could open the doors there, that’d be great, thanks.”
“My pleasure. Is there more to come out?” He peered curiously into the truck while I secured the boxes.
“Yes, a few more trips probably.”
As I went to hop back onto the driveway, he held out his hand to help me down.
It was probably just a polite gesture, but the heat of his palm hit me like a bolt of electricity when I laid my hand in his.
I blinked at him in the watery November sunlight, hoping I didn’t look as startled as I felt.
He exhaled sharply and released my hand as soon as my feet hit the concrete.
“I’ll help carry them for you.”
I nodded, grateful he didn’t comment on my reaction to his touch, and led the way back into the guest house to load his arms with boxes.
If I might, perhaps, have noticed the sculpted bulge of his biceps under his long-sleeved gray henley, well, surely that could be excused. It was important that I knew he could handle the weight of six dozen cupcakes.
With his assistance, I had the cupcakes stashed and ready to go in half the time it would’ve taken me alone.
Whether because I had time to spare, because I wanted to thank him for his help, or because I wanted those extra few minutes in his presence, I didn’t know, but after I closed the door of the truck, I said, “There were a couple of leftovers, if you want to try one.”
His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded so eagerly that I was able to clearly imagine him as one of the first-graders who’d soon be enjoying the bounty I’d made.
“Hell yeah, I’d love to. I mean, if you have enough.”
I snorted and headed back into the guest house. “I can only eat so much peppermint buttercream myself, so you’re saving me from throwing them out. Usually I pass off extras to your parents.”
“My dad must love you,” Theo said as I handed him a cupcake on a pretty little plate I’d found at a thrift store. “Mom’s an amazing cook, but not such a stellar baker. Do not tell her I said that.”
“My lips are sealed,” I replied.
I decided to join him and was just putting another cupcake on a plate when I heard him groan with pleasure. It sounded so deeply sexual that muscles I’d forgotten all about clenched in response. When I looked at him, his eyes were closed in an expression of pure bliss.
“Oh, Esther,” he growled, licking a dot of frosting from the corner of his mouth. “Marry me.”
Even though I knew he was joking and rolled my eyes accordingly, I couldn’t deny the swift kick in my pulse at the words. “I could be a serial killer, Theo.”
Something about the comment had his eyes opening, their dark amber depths studying my face intently. To cover my discomfiture, I bit into my cupcake and kept my attention on the plate in front of me. I had just swallowed when realization struck.
“You’ve been back here for less than a week and already heard the rumor that I killed my husband.”
To his credit, his cheeks grew pink along the edges of his dark beard. “I didn’t believe them, if it’s any consolation.”
It wasn’t. I scowled and muttered, “Only because you didn’t know him.”
For a moment, he went perfectly still and his lips parted, then he grinned as he shook his head. “No, I don’t buy it. Maybe in self-defense, but I can’t see you as a cold-blooded killer.”
“You barely know me,” I protested, then wondered why the hell I was offended by not looking like a murderer.
Theo must have interpreted my disgruntled expression correctly, because now he laughed.
“I promise, Esther, I definitely believe you could commit murder if you put your mind to it. Especially if you hid poison in one of these tasty little fellas,” he said, popping the remainder of his cupcake into his mouth. “But what a way to go.”
I huffed a laugh. “You’re kind of a weirdo.”
“Takes one to know one,” he retorted with a wink, then asked, “Do you need help taking those over to the school? It’s a lot to unload on your own.”
This…this was dangerous territory. I liked this guy. He was as attractive as Anita had not-so-subtly promised, he was funny and quirky, and underneath it all, I still sensed the thread of connection that made me want to confess all my deepest secrets to him.
I wouldn’t, of course, but the urge was strong, especially when those golden-brown eyes twinkled at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Before I could stop myself, I nodded. “Sure, if you really have nothing better to do.”