Chapter eleven Cashlynn
Chapter eleven
Cashlynn
“You look like you could use another cup of coffee,” Astrid says as I walk through the front door of Smells Like Sugar.
“I don’t even know if coffee could solve my problems,” I reply, stifling a yawn.
“I beg to differ. Coffee is the antidote to some of life’s greatest ailments.”
“In that case, another hit of caffeine would be amazing. Thank you.”
Astrid smiles and moves to her espresso machine. “Coming right up.”
I head for a table in the corner of the bakery that should be big enough for me to spread out my laptop, notebooks, and folders for my meeting with Willow.
This week I’ve been working with her friend on branding, and now we’re going to start looking at the timeline for advertising and profit margins, as well as picking a supplier.
Just thinking about everything I still have to do is making my head spin.
Of course, another reason for the spinning wears glasses and makes my panties wet each time I see him.
My defenses against my fake fiancé—and my growing attraction—are wearing dangerously thin.
I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out before I start outright begging for him to touch me again.
I know this attraction is mutual. That much was evident when I kissed him the other night and he eagerly kissed me back. The move sure as hell wasn’t planned, but it sure as hell wasn’t fake either. God, I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s not just the kiss. It’s the way he’s been showing up for me every single day, encouraging me to believe in myself, calming my self-doubts about the gallery, and working his ass off to rebuild my father’s trust while proving he deserves to take over the practice.
This is more than just a fake arrangement. Nothing between us feels fake, and it hasn’t since he slipped that ring on my finger. The way he looked at me, the conviction in his eyes and voice—I know there’s more between us. But nothing I’ve tried has made him crack yet.
What if I’m just making this all up in my head?
The bell above the door chimes and Willow walks in, wearing soft black leggings and an oversized cream sweater with brown knee-high boots. Some women just radiate when they’re pregnant, and she is one of them.
She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and when our eyes meet, she heads in my direction. “Sorry I’m late,” she says as she sets her large purse on one of the empty chairs and removes a few file folders from it.
“You’re not. I just got here. Astrid is making me some coffee.”
“And I have a decaf for the mom-to-be,” Astrid announces, setting our drinks on the table.
Willow places a hand on Astrid’s arm. “I love you, but I’d love you even more if you’ve got a blueberry muffin back there with my name on it.”
Astrid winks at her best friend. “I saved you two.”
As she walks away, Willow turns back to me. “Have you had one yet?”
“Not yet.”
Willow gasps dramatically. “They’re the best thing she makes!” She rubs her stomach as she takes a seat. “I couldn’t eat them during my first trimester because I could barely keep anything down. But now, if I don’t get my fix, bad things happen to good people.”
Chuckling, I say, “Note to self: butter up my boss with blueberry muffins.”
Willow smiles. “I’m not your boss, I’m your investor, Cashlynn. This is your baby,” she says, placing her hand over mine. “And with the way things are going, I think we might be able to open in two months instead of three.”
“Really?”
She nods.
“I can’t thank you enough, Willow. Truly.”
“I remember what it was like to be the new person in town, and how nerve-racking starting your own business can be. If it weren’t for Astrid and her generosity, I don’t know that I would have stayed. And I see something in you that reminds me a lot of myself.”
I swallow nervously. “And what’s that?”
“Resilience. Bravery. One of these days you’re going to understand how your doubts can actually lead you to where you’re meant to be.”
Her words strike a chord. I’ve been in Carrington Cove for nearly a month now, and the longer I’m here, the more this place feels like home, like this is where I’m supposed to be. Now if only I could figure out what the future looks like for me and Parker.
“Fancy seeing you two here.”
Willow and I look up to see Hazel striding over to our table.
“You knew we were going to be here,” Willow says dryly. “I told you that when you texted me last night and asked what my plans were for today.”
“Was there a Sheppard women meeting this morning I wasn’t invited to?” Scottie walks over to us now. “I know Grady isn’t a Sheppard, but last I checked, he and I had been adopted.”
For a second, I let myself think about how if Parker and I were to actually get married, I’d become a Sheppard too.
You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Cashlynn. Your relationship has to become real first, remember?
Astrid returns, setting a plate with two blueberry muffins in front of Willow. “Looks like the gang is all here this morning.” She leans over and hugs Scottie. “Are you here for your weekly apple fritter fix?”
“You know it.” Scottie leans over and says to me, “They’re the best thing Astrid makes.”
I chuckle. “Willow just said that about the blueberry muffins.”
Hazel holds a hand up. “Let me stop you there. Try her raspberry cheesecake cupcakes, and they’ll ruin you for everything else.”
Astrid dramatically fans her face with her hand. “Oh, you girls are gonna give me a complex.”
We share a laugh as Willow peels the wrapper from a muffin and takes a bite. “Well, Cashlynn and I are here to talk business.”
“Oh, I just wanted to say hi,” Scottie says. “I need to work on my lesson plans, but I couldn’t pass up the chance for some adult interaction. Most of the time I only get to talk to eight-year-olds and a babbling five-month-old.”
“What grade do you teach again?” I ask, slightly embarrassed that I don’t remember from the night I met her at the Sheppards’ dinner. But there were so many people and it was all I could do to keep everyone’s names straight.
“Third. That’s the last year where they’re still sweet. When they hit fourth grade, the sass kicks in and then I’m out.” She slices her finger across her throat dramatically. The girls laugh.
“You know,” I say, an idea sparking, “my gallery would be a great place to host a school fundraiser or take a field trip.”
Willow’s eyes light up. “Oh my God. I love that idea. When did you think of that?”
I reach for my notebook and open it to the earmarked page.
“I’ve been doing research all week on galleries in other parts of the country, and then I saw an idea on Pinterest about water gun painting.
I thought that would be something kids would love.
I could even bring the supplies to the school and make it part of a field day—maybe tie it in with a color run or something like that. ”
Scottie nods enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely. They would be so excited, and it’s perfect for the end of the school year when they’re going bonkers anyway.”
“Yeah, just let me know when and we can schedule something.”
“I definitely will. When will you be up and running?”
I glance at Willow. “Well, that’s actually what our meeting today is about, so I’ll have to get back to you on that. If I had a business card, I’d give you one, but I’m working on that too.” Suddenly, I feel inadequate, putting the cart before the horse.
Scottie waves me off. “No worries, I get it. But count me in. My boss will be on board too, I’m sure.”
Leaning back in her chair, Hazel says, “Speaking of being on board, how’s your progress going with my brother?”
Scottie laughs, giving a wave as Astrid steers her toward the counter for her apple fritters. Willow gives Hazel the side-eye. “Hazel, this meeting is supposed to be about business,” she mutters, but then turns to me and waggles her eyebrows. “But that can wait. Spill.”
I groan, burying my head in my hands. “Um, well… I don’t think it’s going very well.”
Hazel reaches across the table and pries my hands from my face. “Why is that?”
“I feel like a teenage girl with a crush, doing stupid things to get a boy’s attention, but he’s oblivious, and I’m even more confused about how he feels about me.”
“What have you tried?”
I pick my head up and take a drink of my coffee. “God, this is good.”
Hazel nods. “Yes, Astrid makes a fine latte. But you really need to visit Keely’s Caffeine Kick. That woman is the master of iced coffee.”
Willow rolls her eyes, sighing. “Enough with the coffee! Get back to Parker, Cashlynn.”
“So, I started with the appliance thing you suggested, Willow. I unplugged the coffee machine, which sent him into a total tailspin.”
Hazel snorts. “I saw him at the animal hospital that morning, and he mentioned it. I could tell his underwear was wedged between his butt cheeks after that stunt.”
I laugh. “It definitely threw him off. Besides that, I’ve been testing the waters—little touches here and there, nothing too obvious. But the night my dad came over for dinner…” I hesitate, glancing between them before admitting, “I kissed him.”
Both women’s jaws drop. Willow recovers first. “And how did he react? Did he kiss you back?”
I clench my thighs together at the memory. “Oh yeah. But then he jumped away like I’d burned him.”
Willow scrunches her nose. “What did you do?”
“I decided to give him space and just went to my room for the night.”
Hazel nods approvingly. “Nice. Leave him to stew.”
“That’s what I was thinking. But the next day, he acted like nothing had happened. For days, it felt like he was actively trying to avoid me—until I took him to see the gallery space.”
Willow perks up, reaching for her coffee. “But that day, he gave you that little pep talk when you were doubting yourself. It was definitely something a real fiancé would’ve have said.”
“I thought so too, but he slipped back into a routine of avoiding me…until the other night.”
“What happened then?” Hazel asks, leaning in.