Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EMMA
Emma’s heart was in her throat as she stepped down the path to the village. Her toes were already numb, and her eyes were itchy with fatigue from staying up too late baking and checking the nanny cam the night before. Ziplock bags full of test croissants swung at her side.
Last night had been a disaster. Leo had given her the most romantic date of her entire life—a covert Christmas wonderland in a steamy greenhouse—and her past trauma had infiltrated as suddenly and as unexpectedly as a rock shattering a windshield.
It was yet another thing her father had taken away from her. She had no idea how to have a functional relationship. A profound hesitancy to open herself up. And now, the only time in years she found someone she felt a real connection with, her own brain had betrayed her.
She had made Leo feel awful. For hours last night, Ruby had scooped up her used pans and replaced them with clean ones. The first stack had arrived with a piece of Leo’s stationery and a simple note.
I’m sorry.
How was she going to explain herself to him? Not even Dylan, her only long-term boyfriend, knew the details of what she and her mom had gone through. And should she really be dredging all these volatile memories up days before the biggest project of her entire career?
She needed to keep her head in the game and secure the money.
The safest course of action would be to hide in her apartment and avoid Leo until she left.
She had known all along that they were fundamentally incompatible.
He was a European prince. She was a Brooklynite baker.
But he deserved an explanation in person, no matter how inept she was at providing it.
She hesitated outside the doors of the community kitchen.
Would they even allow donations? The bag of test croissants crinkled in her hands.
There was no reason why they should go to waste.
They were perfectly edible, and the people of Lynoria certainly deserved them more than the royal family, who wanted for nothing.
She shoved the door open with some difficulty and ducked inside to find Gus.
“Miss Emma,” he said with a smile. “What brings you in this morning?”
“I don’t know if you can take these, but I have some fresh donations.” She slid the bags across the counter. “I’m ServSafe certified, and these were made in a clean environment, if it helps.”
Gus opened the bag and sniffed. “These smell magnificent. We won’t let them go to waste. Could you plate them and put them on that table over there?”
He rummaged under the counter and passed her a pair of tongs, gloves, and a serving platter.
The door opened, and a handful of people filtered in. Gus greeted them by name as Emma plated the baked goods. She made a quick detour to the bathroom and took a moment to breathe. The nerves were making her pee every ten minutes.
On her way out, a voice caught her ear.
“Did you make these, miss?”
A man in a frayed jacket lifted a croissant in her direction.
She nodded.
“I haven’t had a croissant like this since I left France thirty years ago. Thank you.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”
All around them, early patrons were taking bites of pastry.
She cast a glance over the other kitchen offerings.
Cold cereal, a slow cooker full of what looked to be oatmeal, and hot water for tea.
The croissants were almost gone. Any food was better than no food.
But how long had it been since these citizens had had a treat?
Gus tried his best, that was evident. But he was probably at the mercy of whatever government-sponsored food vats were sent down the pipeline.
She made a mental note to return with some of her homemade dinner rolls and left with a final wave to Gus. If she had more time, she would chat with Gus, learn about their donations process and supply coordination. But time was short, and she still needed to explain herself to Leo.
Minutes later, the doors of the community center rose before her.
They were enormous, weatherworn, and heavy-looking.
Every door she had encountered in this village was slightly irregular and had required an unusual amount of muscle to open, so she braced herself and pushed on the right one with all her might.
The door opened effortlessly, slamming off the wall as she stumbled through the opening.
Her hand caught the edge of a bench before she could fall face-first, but the damage was done.
Everyone in the audience whipped around and stared at her. Warmth rushed into her cheeks.
Idiot.
Leo was at the front of the room, yellow legal pad in hand.
His brow was furrowed, and it looked like he was frozen mid-step.
When he caught her glance, a smile crinkled the corner of his eyes.
Was it her imagination, or did he look relieved?
It was probably only a millisecond, but an eternity passed as they looked at each other.
Something fluttered in her stomach, and she was suddenly hyperaware of her body. What the hell was that?
“All right?” Leo asked softly.
She nodded.
“Uh, next on the agenda,” Leo said loudly, “the community kitchen needs a temporary sous chef for six weeks starting in February while Colette is on medical leave. Emergency funding was approved, so the short-term position will be compensated. Please spread the word.”
A couple of the attendees whispered to each other and took an extra look before turning their attention back to Leo.
Emma slid into the last row. Her heart was still pounding, and she wasn’t sure if it was from making a damn fool of herself or from that snapshot of Leo that would live in her brain forever. Concern melding into joy, relief.
She tried to focus on what he was saying. He looked so at ease at the front of the room, listening attentively as citizens described struggles facing the kingdom.
The fire company needed to raise money for repairs to one of their engines. Parliament was threatening to take away the free lunch program at elementary schools in the kingdom. And then there were a handful of smaller concerns.
“Yes, Mrs. DuPont. I will personally check on the feral kittens on Alpine Street,” he said to an old woman wearing what looked to be six layers of clothing despite the fact that it must have been eighty degrees in the room.
His list grew longer by the minute, but he never looked stressed. He was calm, interested, and invested. Royal, even. It was fascinating to watch him work. He truly just wanted to help the kingdom. What a lasting legacy he was going to leave, even though he had no interest in his title.
His project was going to have such a profound, lasting impact on this community.
Women and children would be safe, cared for.
The library would educate the local children, while the garden would teach them about agriculture.
It was amazing. A real impact that directly helped people.
Much more impactful than making fancy desserts for rich assholes.
A burst of realization was unfurling deep inside her. She wanted to see all of Leo’s expressions. Gratitude, annoyance, joy, pride. Whatever he looked like when she put a plate of freshly baked cinnamon rolls in front of him on an arctic February morning.
An image popped into her mind of Leo in a simple gray suit at the end of an aisle dotted with wildflowers grown by her mother.
Cooper sat at his side, panting happily with a ring box strapped to his collar.
The community garden bloomed in the background, sunlight glancing off the new library.
A cozy reception in the town square with every villager.
What the fuck?
She sat back in her chair as if it could put some distance between her and the intrusive scene.
Why the hell was she fantasizing about marrying Leo?
She had never even considered the possibility of marriage before.
The only example she had was that of her own parents, which had ended catastrophically.
Her mom had never dated much after the divorce.
The only successful relationship she’d witnessed was Lola and her husband, Mateo.
Now those two were meant to be. The universe had put them in the same English class at the same university at the same time. No complications, just an instantaneous spark across a crowded room. That’s how it was meant to be. Not whatever tangled mess this was.
There was only one solution. She needed to shut this down now before she got hurt. Or fired. They needed the money more than she needed a boyfriend.
The meeting adjourned, and Emma fidgeted with the strap of her purse. She needed to turn off the tiny horny romantic running the controls behind her brain and apologize. Even though the two of them weren’t meant to be, she still wanted to be on good terms with him.
Villagers filtered out, some of them nodding at Emma on their way. Eventually it was just her and Leo.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hey. Um, I wanted to apologize for last night.”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. It was my fault. I was so consumed with need that I didn’t stop to think.” He reached forward like he was going to take her hand, then stopped. “I’m sorry.”
She reached over and took his hand, even though she knew she shouldn’t. “You couldn’t have known because I didn’t tell you specifics. I haven’t dated in a long time, so I’m not used to…explaining myself. Especially this early on.”
He squeezed her hand and stared straight into her eyes. “I will never do that to you again.”
She hesitated. His words suggested a promise that didn’t apply.
Their story would careen to an end in seventy-two hours.
Before she knew it, she’d be back to her everyday normal of working all day, then helping her mother to the toilet and cooking and cleaning all night.
This entanglement of theirs—whatever it was—was going to be a mere blip on his radar, maybe a moment he looked back on fondly on his deathbed when he was married to a Queen-Eleanor-approved aristocrat and surrounded by a gaggle of grandchildren.
She bit her tongue. Why was this so hard to say? “This isn’t going to work, Leo. We’re from different worlds, and there’s too much at stake. I think we should—”
“Wait,” he interrupted with a voice of authority she had never heard before. She paused in spite of herself.
“Before you say anything else, let me try to make it up to you. I’ll leave you alone tomorrow so you can focus. But what about Friday before you start the last push?”
She dropped her gaze. It was too hard to look into those brown eyes. “I don’t think it’s—”
“Please, Emma.” He brushed a curl off her face, and his touch was like velvet. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
Reason warred with desire. Standing in this drafty town hall with Leo had brought relief, comfort. His very presence gave her a profound sense of peace. Like sliding into flannel sheets after a double shift at the bakery.
Shit. She had caught feelings. It was her own fault.
In a few days, she would be on a plane to New York, and she still had to pull off the biggest project of her career before that.
The last thing she should do was put her entire future in jeopardy by having another date with Leo.
She needed to turn him down and focus. Everyone was relying on her—her mom, the dogs, their crappy apartment in desperate need of repair.
But when she looked into his deep, warm eyes, her brain disconnected from her mouth.
“Okay.”