Chapter 7 #2
Before Andrea could formulate her reply, Lainey started belting out a truly terrible rendition of the Disney hit.
“I’m hanging up now!” Andrea laughed.
“Fine, but just know that I’ll expect a full report next time we talk.”
“Goodbye, Lainey.”
Andrea set her phone down and leaned against the counter, staring at the assortment of cupcakes waiting to be frosted.
Lainey’s version of “Let It Go” echoed in her mind, and she sighed as she reached for a mixing bowl and the bag of powdered sugar.
Okay. Fine. She could do casual and fun.
But she was absolutely drawing the line at ice-skating.
Twenty minutes later, she had six cupcakes arranged for delivery.
In the end, she hadn’t been happy enough with the pecan-inspired version, so she went with the chocolate cherry, and frosted them with a simple chocolate buttercream.
The cherry on top matched the festive platter, a happy accident.
Phantom insisted that Marren didn’t entertain or cook, but the witch had an impressive assortment of cake pans and serving dishes.
Phantom sauntered back into the kitchen, his tail high. As he zeroed in on her ankles, Andrea took a step back. “Hey! Get out of here. I don’t want you getting cat fur on these. They’re for Wes.”
“I see,” the cat replied, his tone grumpy. “I suppose that explains why you changed your sweater three times.”
She glanced down at the soft cashmere turtleneck she’d finally settled on—a deep burgundy that complemented her fair complexion and brought out the blonde in her hair. “It’s cold outside,” Andrea replied, her tone a tad defensive. “This one’s the warmest.”
“Uh huh. And I assume the mascara and lipstick is also for warmth?”
Andrea pursed her lips. “Don’t you have a sunbeam to nap in or something?”
“I wouldn’t miss this for all the catnip in Vermont.” Phantom hopped down and followed her to the front door.
Andrea leveled the cat with a flat stare. “Have you ever considered that maybe you are the reason why Marren doesn’t date?”
The cat flashed his white fangs in the feline estimation of a grin. “So you’re admitting this is a date!”
Andrea rolled her eyes and grabbed the platter of cupcakes. “I’m leaving now.”
Outside, the air was crisp and bright, the sun reflecting off last night’s snowfall with diamond-like brilliance. Andrea squinted against the glare, holding the platter close to her chest as she made her way down the steps and across the short patch of yard separating the townhouses.
She spotted Wes immediately, standing by the open tailgate of his truck, consulting with another worker. He looked up at her approach, surprise registering on his face before it melted into a heart-stopping smile. “Coming to pay your debt, I see,” he said with a chuckle.
“Hey, you earned them fair and square,” Andrea replied, offering the platter and a smile.
The burly, bearded man at the truck bed perked up when he saw the treats. “Some of those for us, boss?”
Wes chuckled as he turned his head. “That depends on how fast you and Jim get the drywall installed.”
The man gave a mock salute and headed back to work with an extra pep in his booted step.
“I guess I should have made more,” Andrea said with a laugh as she watched the man go back inside the neighboring townhome.
“Well, I wasn’t going to quibble, but I believe the bet was for a full dozen,” Wes said with a teasing gleam in his eyes. He set the platter on the lowered tailgate and shucked off his gloves before selecting his cupcake.
Andrea smiled. “Was it? I think you said batch. But to tell you the truth, I was working on something new this morning. I took some inspiration from the pecan tassies, and thought I might somehow channel those flavors into a new creation.”
Wes’s brows lifted as he peeled back the paper liner. “Any luck?”
“Not yet,” Andrea admitted. “But by the time you’re done here—” she thumbed up toward the townhome’s open front door, “I might figure it out. So, let these tide you over for now, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Wes smiled and took a bite. His eyes closed briefly in pleasure and when they opened, they found hers, sending a current of something warm and electric between them.
“You’ve got a little—” Andrea dabbed a fingertip against the corner of her own mouth, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.
Wes swiped at his mouth, using her gesture as a mirror, and he licked off the stray frosting from his thumb. “Wouldn’t want to waste a bit of this.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Andrea said.
Three workers trooped from the house, their boots crunching on the snow at the edges of the stairs, where it had gathered overnight. “Bad news, boss,” the bearded man called from the back of the pack. “We’re short a few anchors.”
“Good news is we have time for a break,” one of the others added, already zeroing in on the platter of cupcakes.
“You made these?” the third asked, glancing at Andrea after selecting a treat for himself.
“That’s right.”
The man looked between her and Wes, a hint of a smile showing under his thick beard, and then he was gone, around the other side of the truck with the others. The burly man gave her a thumbs-up after taking his first bite, and Andrea smiled.
“Vultures,” Wes muttered, even as he grinned at his crew before they departed to go back inside where it was warm.
“I should let you get back to it,” Andrea said when they were gone. She took another step backward and gestured toward the front door of her temporary home. “Crumpet will be wanting a walk soon.”
“Thanks again, Andrea.” Wes nodded. “And I’m serious about the rematch.”
She laughed and took another step back, but her reply turned into a strangled cry as she slipped on a slick patch of sidewalk.
Her leg slipped out and her ankle rolled as her foot skidded over the side of the curb.
Her arms spun like pinwheels as she twisted and tried to regain her balance, but it was no use.
Within a split second, she crashed to the cold, hard ground in a heap.
“Andrea!” Wes dropped his half-eaten cupcake and swooped over to her, immediately kneeling down beside her. “Are you okay? What hurts?”
“Just my dignity,” she tried to joke, though she couldn’t quite keep the pain from her voice. She attempted to push herself up to a sitting position but gasped as a sharp twinge shot through her ankle. “Oh! And maybe my ankle.”
Wes’s hands hovered uncertainly around her, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure where to touch. “Don’t try to stand. Let me see.”
Gently, he reached for her leg, his touch warm through her dark wash skinny jeans as he carefully examined her ankle. “Can you move it at all?”
Andrea tried, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s broken. I rolled it when I slipped off the curb. It’s probably just a sprain or bruise.”
“Still, you shouldn’t put weight on it until we know for sure.” Wes looked up at her, his face suddenly very close to hers. “I’m going to help you inside, okay?”
Before she could answer, he’d slipped one arm around her waist and then tucked himself against her so she could lean all her weight against his side and chest as he helped her up.
“Don’t put any weight on it,” Wes advised. “Use me.”
“I can walk,” she protested weakly.
“Not on that ankle, you can’t,” Wes replied, his grip around her waist cinching her closer.
Andrea became acutely aware of the firm muscles of his chest and arms, the warmth of his body against the December chill. This close, she could see the tiny flecks of green in his brown eyes and the fine lines that came with age.
He pulled back, as if also realizing their close proximity. His eyes dropped to her lips for the barest moment. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”