Chapter 11
THE NEXT MORNING…
Gertie was on pins and needles as she waited for Archie to arrive. She was not, in fact, dressed to go for a drive as requested, because she had no intention of allowing the man back into her heart. Well, not any more than she already had.
Somehow he’d finagled his way past all her walls in the few weeks he’d been back in Rivenhall. If she allowed him in anymore, she would be head over heels in love—again!
With that in mind Gertie bustled about the bakery doing her morning chores. She had dough rising, and a fresh batch of bread already in the oven. Her signature mince pies were cooling on the rack, and a few of her early customers had already been in to purchase some.
The door of the bakery opened, drawing her attention. Archie walked in and stopped at the counter, taking in her attire. “I see that you are still upset with me.”
She shrugged and hoped it looked as nonchalant as she intended. “I am not angry, I simply have no interest in rekindling what was once between us.” Liar.
Archie chuckled. “Come now, Gertie. I think we both know we are far past merely ‘rekindling’ anything.” He walked around the counter and towered over her, making Gertie take a hasty step back.
Her back hit the wall and yet still he advanced.
“The flame between us is well and truly lit. The question is are you willing to dowse it once more or are you willing to brave the flames with me?”
Gertie sucked in a breath as the wall pressed into her back. Big mistake. Despite the scent of fresh bread, yeast, and sugar in the space, all she could smell was the spicy, woodsy scent of the man pressed against her.
Why did he always smell so bloody good?
Then his lips captured hers, and all coherent thoughts fled.
The feel of his lips, the taste of him—a little earthy, a little sweet—wove together with his scent to send her mind reeling.
For long moments she was lost to everything around her…
at least until the sound of pans clattering against each other caused them to jump apart.
There not five feet from them stood her son—no, their son.
“Sam! Uh, I was just telling Archie—er, your father that I was not available for a drive today.”
Sam snorted. “Is that what you were doing?”
“My apologies, Sam, I didn't mean for you to have to walk in on such an indiscreet scene.” Archie's cheeks turned pink.
Gertie had to take a second look to be sure she'd seen correctly—pink cheeks? But then the bell over the door chimed, and a customer strode in—completely oblivious to the tension that hung thick as molasses in the air. She turned and smiled in welcome. “Good morning. How can we help you?”
The woman smiled warmly. “I've heard wonderful things about your mince pies and decided to try some. How many do you suggest?”
Sam stepped past her and Archie and began assisting the customer. Gertie stared silently at Archie until he took her hand and tugged her toward the rear of the shop where they could speak again.
“Gertie, we are already entangled once more. I would very much like to at least meet you for luncheon if you cannot spare me an entire day.” Archie sighed softly, sadness lacing the sound.
“I want to get to know you again, to hear more about your life and our son. Is that really too much to ask? You barely spoke during our picnic once you told me the truth.”
Guilt had her rethinking his request. Perhaps he'd been a bit overeager, high-handed even; but he sounded sincere, and he was correct in that she’d been a wreck after telling him about Sam. “Very well. We can have lunch together and…and see how it goes.”
She resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of her words. She knew how it would go. They'd go to lunch, and she would fall even deeper in love than she already was.
She. Was. Doomed.
And she was done fighting it. She was done being the straight-laced widow who tiptoed around to ensure her reputation remained spotless. She was being ridiculous, it was not as though people would object to her finding love again and take their business elsewhere.
“Excellent. I shall collect you at noon for our luncheon.” Archie looked pleased as punch as the customer Sam assisted left, and their son walked over to them at the rear of the bakery.
Sam looked from Archie to her. “Did you two get things sorted? I suppose it must have been easier once you stopped kissing and started using words.”
“Samuel!” Gertie wanted to wither away and die right there on the spot.
“Son, don't be so harsh on your mother.” Archie said at the same time as her exclamation.
Sam blinked for a moment. “I suppose I shouldn't be. But I am still adjusting to whatever this is.” Her son waved his hands about. “If you two will excuse me, I think I shall go see to a few deliveries.” With that, Sam collected two orders ready to go and slipped out of the bakery.
It was just the two of them.
“Well, I shall see you this afternoon.” Archie gifted her with a huge, slightly goofy grin that devastated her ability to respond coherently. Then he was gone, leaving her in a silent bakery.
Bloody hell, she was in trouble.
So. Much. Trouble.
Midday arrived much too early if Gertie had anything to say about it.
Of course neither Sam nor Archie was willing to accept any of her half-hearted excuses for why she needed to stay at the bakery.
She found herself summarily bustled out of her place of business and onto the street with Archie.
They walked in silence until Archie finally cleared his throat. “How was your morning, Gertie?”
“Well, it was quite nice until this rather forward man came in this morning and insisted I have lunch with him.” She flashed him a smile.
Archie laughed, and she couldn't help but marvel at the fact that the man could find joy at a time when his entire future was in jeopardy. Before she could comment, he guided them to the front door of a local coaching inn.
Gertie stopped, pressing a hand to the door in a pretense of blocking him from opening it. “Archie, this is the nicest inn in Rivenhall. Isn't this a touch extravagant, considering your current circumstances? I'm perfectly content to dine at the Blue Hen Inn a few streets away.”
Archie pressed his lips together for a moment as though searching for patience and then removed her hand from the door.
“I am quite capable of affording lunch with the woman I am courting at the nicest inn in Rivenhall.
She's worth the extravagance.” He grinned at her mischievously before offering her his arm once more and opening the door.
Unwilling to be so churlish as to continue to harp on the question of his finances when he was clearly going out of his way to woo her, Gertie refrained from saying another word on the matter.
They were quickly seated and their orders placed.
The inn had a festive Christmassy air, with pine boughs strategically placed around the interior punctuated by red ribbon and bows.
With only two weeks until Christmas, Gertie had finished knitting a new scarf for Sam weeks ago.
It was only as she looked at the handsome man sitting across from her that she realized that if he intended to remain in Rivenhall and continue to pursue her, she would need a gift for Archie too. Strangely, she found herself at a loss as to what to give him.
She’d fought against his return since he’d appeared in her bakery nearly two weeks prior. Well, except for the one day when she allowed her physical needs to take the reins.
But now she was thinking clearly—possibly for the first time—as she stared at the man who had disappeared two decades ago, but had now given up everything to be with her. What more did she need from him? What more must he do to make up for what had happened twenty years ago?
“Gertie,” Archie said seriously. “I need you to know I am quite serious about remaining in Rivenhall. I wish to be a part of your life—and if Sam permits, his as well. Tell me what I can do to convince you that I am still in love with you after all these years.” He gazed at her with an earnestness that creased his brow.
Her heart squeezed. The man had always been a bloody mind-reader. “Archie, I’m…I’m so bloody scared to let you back in.”
Silence fell between them. As she watched the pain lance through his soft brown gaze, Gertie knew she needed to dig deep and find the brazen girl who still lurked deep in the depths of Mrs. Sutton, the baker’s wife.
She was there somewhere.
“But I seem to be at a loss as to how to keep you out. You continue to surprise me with your persistence.” She smiled softly at him.
“Gertie, I—”
“Here are your lunches.” The waiter who had taken their orders appeared just then, most ill-timed.
Gertie stared at her plate for a moment.
“Is there anything else I may get for you?” The waiter stood rigidly next to their table.
In that moment, Gertie found the forthright young woman she had once been and wrestled her out of hiding. “Everything looks delicious, but I am afraid we are going to leave. Could you make this up into a ploughman’s for us?”
The waiter gaped at her as though she’d just stated the Queen was dead. Once he surpassed his shock, he snatched their plates up and rushed back to the kitchen.
“Gertie, have I made you so uncomfortable that we must leave?” Archie appeared truly distraught at the notion.
She couldn’t help but laugh delightedly in that moment.
“Oh Archie, of course not! I should very much like for us to take our lunch back to my lodgings where we may be more…private.” She grinned at him and let the desire she was unwilling to continue to fight bleed past her defenses.
She not only physically desired this man, but she loved him as well.
She was a fool if she’d ever thought she could send him away again.
Thomas Sutton had been a wonderful husband and an even more wonderful father to Sam. She’d loved him for everything he’d done for her and her boy, but she’d never been in love with him. She’d never allowed him to consume her mind and own her soul, because those had already belonged to someone.
To Archie.
He’d merely returned to claim what was his, and she was done denying the truth.
“I see. Then I expect we should be on our way.” Archie stood up, eagerness vibrating off the man.
She laughed merrily. “Archie, our food!”
Fortunately, they did not need to wait long for the waiter to return with their meal wrapped carefully in brown paper. Archie reached into his pocket and tossed some coins onto the table before accepting the parcel. “That should cover everything.”
Gertie’s stomach growled with hunger, though not hunger for food as they walked briskly along the avenue and back toward the bakery.
Archie quickly led her upstairs where she let them in and promptly locked the door behind them.
As she stood there, she knew what would come next, and yet she felt as nervous as though it was her first time.
At least she was nervous until Archie’s lips claimed hers. Then coherent thought fled, and all she could do was feel. The fullness of his lips as he kissed her, his hands on her back, the hard bar of his cock as it pressed into her skirts…there really wasn’t more to think about, was there?