14. Holden
Chapter Fourteen
Holden
“Sweetcheeks, back away from the coffee pot and go have a seat. I’ll brew it and bring you a cup in a few minutes.”
The corners of Ella’s mouth turn down, and the softness in her eyes looks a lot like pity.
I stare at her for a few seconds.
“I don’t understand why I can’t get it right.” I scratch my head.
I’m smart, yet Ella has tried every morning for two weeks to teach me how to make coffee that tastes like hers. Mine doesn’t.
“I used the exact number of rosemary sprigs you said, but it tastes—”
“Go. Have a seat. I’ll bring you some in a few.” Ella's tone leaves no room for arguing as she shoos me away with her hand.
Perhaps the five pots of coffee I’ve wasted trying to mimic her perfection are frustrating her.
Ella turns her attention to the coffee pot, grabs the carafe, and dumps the unpalatable liquid into the sink.
I watch her for a few seconds, sure there must be a step I’m missing in the process when I try. But realizing it’s hopeless, my shoulders sag, and I amble over to the booth where my bag is.
I plop down onto the cracked vinyl seat, careful not to let it pinch the backs of my thighs.
I glance around my favorite bakery and coffee shop.
I will say, Ella is nothing if not bold. The bright green fabric on the seats is hideous to look at, and the clashing wallpaper, with its weird orange pattern, is overwhelming to the eye if stared at for more than a few seconds. Still, I come here every morning unless I’m out of town.
Without fail.
Seven a.m. on the dot, I’m at the door waiting for Ella to open. I sit in the same booth every time I come. Well, unless I’m a few minutes late and one of my brothers is here and screws with me by taking my seat. Usually, that’s just Harrison.
Truthfully, I’ve got good brothers. Probably because we had the greatest dad raise us. He was the best man I’ve ever known and probably ever will. Our family has been through a lot, and I credit Henry and Harrison—the oldest two—with getting us all through it.
I shake my head to push the thoughts from my mind and glance up right as Ella places two steaming cups of coffee on the Formica tabletop.
I practically salivate when she takes two small plates, each covered with a scrumptious-looking pecan roll—her specialty—off the tray she’s carrying and slides one to me and one in front of her seat. The enticing aroma of the sweet treat makes me feel warm inside.
I swear, Ella makes these just for me. She complains loudly about how difficult they are to make, but I see the smile in her eyes when she brings them out.
Ella sits across from me and grins. You’d think a woman her age would be beyond flirting with a man forty-plus years her junior. But not Ella. She’s as big a flirt as they come.
I expect some crude remark delivered with a coy grin. Instead, when I glance up at her, the hint of a smile and the faint lines at the corners of her eyes soften her expression.
I know she’s fond of me, and we’ve had heart-to-hearts before, so I can tell that’s what’s coming. I need to head her off, so I scramble for something to say.
“Do you think this place is going to stay a bakery?”
I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic mug while I wait for her answer.
That Ella is selling the bakery and moving to Florida is something I’ve mostly avoided thinking about, but now the day is almost here.
“I would imagine. The young lady who bought it has plans for both shops, and all the equipment came with the building as part of the sale. So yes, I think so. In fact, she had an established bakery in Elladine.”
That’s odd. Elladine is only one town over from Aron Falls.
“Oh, hmm. Why would she buy this one when Elladine isn’t that far away? Why start all over?”
“I don’t know, and I’m not one to get into other people’s business, but—”
I can’t help it when a burst of laughter erupts from me.
Ella glares at me, but there’s no true anger behind it.
“I’m sorry, but Els, come on. You live for getting into other people’s life drama.”
I smile at her, knowing it always settles her down a little.
Ella lifts her hand to scratch her forehead but makes a point of flipping me off, and I chuckle.
“Anyway, you brat. What I was saying was that maybe she’s looking for a change. To reinvent herself... her life.” Her eyes home in on mine now.
“Sometimes a fresh start and a second chance to remake yourself is all someone needs.”
Ella holds our eye contact, and I try to match it, but fail and look down at the table. I know she’s trying to give me advice. I hear her, but what her words really do is make me sadder that she’s leaving.
Ella’s a friend now.
My brothers and I moved to Aron Falls from neighboring Meadow Creek when we built our company here nearly two years ago, and I’ve been coming here every morning since my second month in town.
She gives me a moment, then reaches across the table and grabs my free hand. She gives it a light squeeze but doesn’t let go.
“You know you never order anything different, and you always use the same mug. You always use the same pen and legal pads. Your notes—”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“I watch you, young man. I think maybe the world has you all wrong.”
“What does that mean?” I run my hand through my hair and peer back up at her. “Ella... maybe everyone else is right, and you’re the one who gives me more credit than I de—”
“No, Holden, listen to me for a minute. I know that I flirt with you and tease a lot. That’s our dynamic, but it doesn’t mean I don’t see you. See, behind that front you’re always covering yourself with, I hear things. Everyone thinks you’re a playboy.”
My jaw drops open, and I’m speechless. Not because I’m shocked by what she’s saying—it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m just surprised it’s made it to her.
“I can tell you don’t have a girlfriend and probably haven’t for a long time. Am I right?”
I see my opportunity to lighten the conversation.
“Only you, Els. You’re it.” I grin at her and force playfulness into my tone even though I’m downright uncomfortable.
I don’t want anyone to see me as she does. There isn’t much to see, really. Not much I’m proud of, anyway. I peer into my coffee cup.
“Holden. I’m serious.”
After a few seconds, I reluctantly lift my gaze to meet hers.
“Yeah, it’s been a while, and I’m not nearly as bad as everyone says. But let ‘em think it.”
“No one says you’re bad. It’s not bad to see what’s out there and to date a lot. Though from what I hear, your dates might not always have much emotional depth.”
Oh my God, this is embarrassing. My cheeks heat, and I’m pretty sure if I looked in a mirror, I’d find them bright red. I’m getting a lecture from Ella on relationships.
“I should probably go,” I blurt out. I don’t mean it to sound sharp, but the need to escape overcomes me.
I’m about to stand and leave when the bell on the door rings, and one of the guys who works for my brothers and me in the millwork division walks in and heads to the counter.
Ella pats my hand and tightens her grip.
“No, you don’t. Stay here while I get him set. Don’t you dare leave without giving me a chance to say goodbye.”
Before I can respond and squeeze in a rushed goodbye so I’m able to make my escape, she stands and is halfway to the counter.
My shoulders sag, and I lean against the back of the seat, resigned to being here a little longer.
I don’t want to talk about this.
It’s okay that I’m not in a relationship. Yeah, sometimes love works out as it did for Henry and Tillie. And Harrison and Delaney.
But sometimes love really screws you over. Like my brother Hayden. Love royally fucked him up.
I know the feeling.
His wife, Charlie, left him last year after more than a decade together, and it broke him. The difference between us is that he deserves a better ending to his story.
I don’t do what you’d call dating, so there’s no chance of developing something long-term. And I never break my three-date rule. Three times spending time with someone is my limit—usually including the day we meet.
Despite what everyone chooses to believe, it doesn’t usually turn into anything physical. It doesn’t need to, most of the time, to distract me when I’m in my head too much. But sometimes, yeah, companionship isn’t enough to kill the pain.
I shake my head to pull myself out of the path my thoughts have gone down.
“Holden, did you hear what I said?” Ella asks.
“No. I’m sorry. Can you repeat it?”
“I asked why you come here every day. Not that I don’t love seeing you.”
I grin at her, knowing the left side of my mouth tilts higher than the right and that, paired with my dimples, it’s supposedly hard for women to resist. At least according to Georgie, Heath’s best friend. I’m just being honest—it’s a tool I have in my arsenal.
“Ella, are you fishing for compliments? You know these pecan rolls and your coffee, though they’re my absolute favorite, are only part of the reason I’m here.” I wink at her. “I’m here to see my best girl.”
Ella flaps her hand at me. “Don’t give me that crap today, Holden Aron. I’m serious. You don’t miss a single day.”
I shrug, working to feign nonchalance. “I like routine. I need it. Structure helps me focus. It’s best when I do the same things as often as I can. I don’t know. It’s a good start to my day.”
“Listen. I’m worried about you. Tomorrow’s my last day, and then the bakery closes.
I don’t know when the young lady will have things up and running, or even if she’s planning a bakery for sure.
I’ve heard different ideas of what she might want to do with it.
Maybe one of those places where you paint and drink at the same time.
” Ella chuckles, and I can’t help but smile.
I know that sort of thing is right up her alley, and I’m betting she’s remembering the picture that circulated through our friend group a few months back.
It was of Ella, Ruthie—the town gossip, who is sassy as hell but would give anything to help anyone—and Sally at one of those events over in Meadow Creek.
The photo showed them all holding up their finished paintings: a moonlit sky filled with stars.
Except Ruthie. Ruthie had painted a male nude.
Apparently, using the bartender as inspiration.
Even funnier, they somehow dragged Lester along.
He’s the only man in their band of saucy seventy-plus-year-old troublemakers.
Lester acts gruff most of the time, but what you see is what you get with him, and he’s definitely softened.
Kind of reminds me of my brother Harrison, actually.
I reach across the table and squeeze Ella’s hand.
“Hey, seriously though, don’t worry about me. I’m going to be absolutely fine. I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
No. But I can’t tell her that.
So, I sit up straight and smile at her. “I’m positive. I have a system, and it works for me. I got this.”