Chapter 3
Chapter Three
NONA
Iheard the front door open just before my daughter’s voice called out, “Mom?”
“Kitchen, honey,” I returned as I finished piping the last decorative swirl of orange frosting onto the triple-layer chocolate cake I’d spent the better part of the day making.
I caught movement from the corner of my eye and turned my head from my task just as Blythe came to a stop in the entryway of the kitchen, her wide eyes pinned to the cake. “Whoa. What’s wrong?”
I stood up straight at the concern laced into her voice. “What? Nothing’s wrong. Why would you ask that?”
She cocked a hip and gave me that insolent look that only teenagers could pull off. The one where they communicate with just one glance that adults are stupid and lame. “Uh, maybe because the only time you bake like that is when you’re super stressed?”
Planting my hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes and argued, “That’s not true. I love to bake, you know that.”
“Yeah, normal stuff, but you only go overboard when you’re freaking out about something. The day you told us you and Dad were getting a divorce, you baked like a gazillion of those fancy blueberry muffins with the crumble stuff on top.”
“Streusel,” I corrected unnecessarily.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “You know what I mean.”
I did, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, she had a point.
I enjoyed baking to the point that if hair hadn’t been my first love, I probably would have opened my own bakery.
I was a decent cook, but an awesome baker.
Creating sugary goodness made me happy, and designing them to make them as awesome on the outside as they tasted on the inside was just icing on the cake, literally and figuratively.
I was so good at it that all my kids’ birthday cakes were homemade, but they looked like something made by a professional that you’d spend a fortune on.
But my baby had the uncanny and supremely annoying talent of reading me like a book.
When something was bothering me, I had a tendency to go overboard.
Some people stress ate. I stress baked. I’d spent that entire day fretting about how my kids would take it when I broke the news their dad was moving out, and I baked so much I ran out of counter space.
The only reason they didn’t go to waste was because the PTA just so happened to have a bake sale going on at that time, so I was able to unload my haul.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not goin’ overboard. I just want chocolate cake.”
“Mom, that’s not just a cake. That’s like a wedding cake!”
I looked back to the rich, chocolatey goodness on my counter and realized, with a good deal of annoyance, that she was not wrong. For a cake I planned on eating while curled up in my cozy sofa, reading one of my beloved romance novels, it was a bit over the top.
With the homemade chocolate fudge icing, the pretty daisies and swirls I’d piped in yellow, orange, and green, and the dark chocolate raspberry filling I’d made to go between each of the three layers, the whole damn thing screamed EXCESS in big capital letters.
But I’d been frazzled ever since my run-in with Trick at the soccer game a few days ago.
He hadn’t hung around long after dropping Tris off, but he still gave me those soft, warm eyes that were devastating to my well-being.
“Yeah, well, like I said, nothing’s wrong. Just in the mood to bake, I guess.”
The door opened and slammed shut again, and a second later I heard my son’s backpack crash to the ground before he came skidding into the kitchen. “Whoa, awesome! Cake!” Then his eyes came to me, awash with curiosity as he asked, “What’s goin’ on? Are you and Dad getting divorced again?”
“See?” Blythe exclaimed to me, then turned to Tristan. “They’re already divorced, dummy. They can’t get divorced again.”
“Don’t call me a dummy, butthead!” Tris rebounded.
“Both of you,” I called sharply. “No name-calling. And Tris, nothing’s going on. Like I told your sister, I was in the mood for chocolate cake, it’s my day off, I had the time, so I made one.”
His eyes bounced between me and the cake. “Yeah, but that one’s huge. It could feed my whole soccer team.”
“Told you,” Blythe chimed in, crossing her arms and giving me a snarky look.
I threw my hands up in the air in frustration.
“All right, enough. We’re done here. There isn’t anything going on,” I lied, but they didn’t need to know that.
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything is rainbows and butterflies and dancing unicorns.
Now you guys go do your homework so I can start dinner in peace.
And afterward, you get to have a piece of this awesome cake, because your mom’s the coolest mom in all the world. ”
“If you were the coolest mom in the world, you wouldn’t make us do homework,” Tris declared, a goofy half grin tugging on his lips.
“You’ll appreciate me making you when you’re older.”
That goofy half grin morphed into a full-blown goofy smile that pierced my heart. God, I loved my kids. And I hated how fast they were growing up.
“You say that all the time,” Blythe added.
I looked to my girl, feeling that same piercing sensation. “Yeah, well, there’s a whole lot you guys will appreciate me for when you’re older, and I’ll be expecting you to show that appreciation in the form of gifts when that time comes.”
Tris laughed and Blythe rolled her eyes while trying to fight back a smile as she muttered, “God, Mom, you’re such a dork.”
“A cool dork,” I reminded them. “And don’t you forget it.”
Blythe took off to her room, hopefully to do her homework but more than likely to text her friends, and Tristan moved to the fridge and pulled out a soda.
“How was your day, honey? Anything exciting happen?”
“Oh yeah! Something totally awesome happened.”
I gave my exuberant boy a soft look. “Yeah? Well don’t leave me in suspense, kid. What happened?”
“Shawn’s dad is rentin’ Miss Eden’s house, so now he’s gonna be livin’ right across the street! How awesome is that?”
Every muscle in my body clenched tight, and the piping bag I’d just picked up to add one last daisy to my chocolatey masterpiece clattered back to the counter. “What?”
“I mean, yeah, it sucks it’s only gonna be every other week,” he carried on, oblivious to his mom’s burgeoning meltdown, “but it’ll still be sweet to have my bud right across the street from me so when he is there, we can hang like all the time.”
Trick was moving in across the street?
Shit! Trick was moving in across the street!
I should have seen that coming. After all, I’d heard word through the grapevine that Trick was currently holed up in a shitty little apartment that was so shitty, they only did month-to-month leases because they knew trying to get anyone in there longer was impossible.
The bungalow across from me was a terrific little house that I knew would rent out fast. It had been where my best friend in the whole wide world lived until recently.
Eden had fallen for the unbelievably hot macho man a couple doors down, and after a few minor bumps along the road to their happily ever after, they got their crap together and now they were living in a huge, beautiful, rustic cabin in the mountains just outside of town.
Eden’s dream cabin that Lincoln had built just for her.
I missed having my bestie right across the street, but if there was anyone who deserved having a man who treated her like a goddess, it was Eden. And Lincoln most definitely did that, so I was unbelievably happy for her.
“Hello? Earth to Mom. You okay?”
Tristan’s voice jolted me back into reality, and I jerked my head around in his direction. I hadn’t realized he’d been talking at hyper speed the whole time I was zoned out until that very moment. “Huh?”
“I asked if I could play video games for a little while before dinner.”
Bracing my hands on the island, I scrunched my lips to the side and scowled with that don’t kid a kidder, boy look I’d perfected when Blythe was about four. “Did you magically get all your homework done while you were standin’ here and I didn’t see it?”
“Ugh!” He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and let out an exaggerated groan.
“Video games after homework. Now get.”
He moved out of the kitchen, grumbling about how unfair life was, and I went through the motions of starting dinner to feed my family, all the while fretting about my soon-to-be new neighbor, and wondering if I already had all the ingredients I’d need to make a chocolate cheesecake.
The three pieces of chocolate cake from the night before were still sitting in my stomach like a rock by the time my alarm went off the following morning.
Dragging myself out of bed to get ready to face the day was way harder than usual, but I powered through, getting the kids up and out the door to school before hopping in the shower and getting myself ready.
One of the reasons I opened my own salon was because I wanted to have say over my own hours.
Being a mom came first for me, and having the time to make my kids a big breakfast to start the day was more important than highlights or a wash and set, so I never booked myself before ten o’clock.
It also helped that I could usually laze around after they were gone, fuel up on coffee, and take the time on my hair and makeup before heading out.
I might have done the bare minimum on weekends, but when it came to work, I always gussied up.
After all, no woman wanted to get her hair done by someone who looked like they’d just rolled out of bed.
After filling up a travel mug and heading for my car, I discovered that it was a damn good thing I fought back the laziness and went full out this morning. Because as soon as I pulled the front door open, I was greeted with the sexy sight of Trick Wanderly.