Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
“ H e’s here!”
Clementine pushed to her feet at the words as an excited hush went through the kitchen. Forcing herself to sit back down, she closed her eyes and breathed out through her mouth slowly. We said no more crushes! Crushes hurt like hell and she was always the one that got burned in the end. The thing about crushes was that they were so fucking easy. One second of eye contact, a little flirting and she was already thinking about their first date and everything that followed. It was normal and almost acceptable when she was a teenager, but in her thirties? A hindrance.
The last time she’d indulged in a crush—her first since high school—it had hurt like hell. Five years ago, Clementine met Xander. He lived in the town over and had heard so much about her bakery. They got talking over cookies and fudge, and she’d let herself fall for him a little. He’d come by the bakery every so often, spending time chatting with her. She could tell that he was flirting, but she was being cautious. Until the day he show up during a cake tasting and sang her praises to the couple at the big table. Then her crush blossomed into something so big she had swooned. Xander’s visits increased and she looked forward to his life updates, because listening to him talk made her feel special.
Then he showed up with a bouquet of flowers—not from Daisy’s Patch, which should have been her first sign—and asked for a cake for his girlfriend’s birthday. Everyone at the bakery had seen them flirt, so the shocked silence told her that she hadn’t imagined any of their interactions. She let someone else pack up his order and hid away in her office.
Clementine knew that it wasn’t his fault, because he had no idea about her feelings. But they’d been flirting, right? In a therapy session soon after the incident, she talked about how she didn’t trust herself to know the difference anymore. What if everyone she met and formed a bond with had someone waiting at home? She wasn’t looking for her forever partner, but like everyone else, she did want to meet someone. But her radar was broken and she couldn’t trust signs anymore either.
So, this…these feelings for Oakley needed to be shut down. He might be a good person, but he could also confuse and hurt her. Clementine wasn’t ready for that.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one who got excited at the reappearance of the pretty tattooed man, because the younger staff members were falling over themselves to see him. It was only after their first conversation that she realized he’d been coming into the shop for close to a month. By the excited sounds, you’d think they were encountering a celebrity or something.
Concentrating on her open notebook, she returned to the new cakes she was trying to create. Most chefs would experiment in the kitchen and make mistakes before finding the right ingredients; Clementine worked the other way. Throwing something away when it didn’t work was not okay. Instead, she wrote out what often went well together and tried to mix and match, letting her mind wander as she created new items for the bakery. Once she had a list, she would sit with her staff to discuss what might or might not work.
Most of the time, the combinations worked in reality. Every now and then, it would be a complete disaster and they would have to toss everything out. It happened so rarely that even though her process was peculiar, her staff supported it.
She always knew what worked best, even without having the flavors on hand to taste and test every time.
“Chef.” Freya, her first ever hire and most trusted baker, stuck her head into the office with a wide grin. “He’s asking for you.”
“Who?” She frowned at her notebook as she scribbled rhubarb? beside a list that also included chocolate, dates and coconut.
“The pretty tattooed surfer.”
“Please let him know I’m busy.”
“Clem,” Freya said in a playful warning tone.
Clementine set her pen down and rubbed her forehead. It took her a few days to stop thinking about him , especially when her mind so helpfully reminded her about Xander. Even then, he often popped into her thoughts when she was at the bakery. She blamed her staff, because now they were making donuts that he would like. Every morning started with hushed discussions about flavors he picked regularly and what else they could experiment with. She couldn’t understand what this man did that made everyone adore him so much.
“All right, all right,” she mumbled as she got up and stretched. Her friend was grinning when she looked over and Clementine rolled her eyes. Undoing her purple bandana, she let her hair loose and tugged on her baby blue coat. Buttoning it up and smoothing it down as she walked out. The short journey through her kitchen and into the main shop gave her a few minutes to gather herself.
Except, the sight of him made her knees wobble a bit.
“Good morning,” he said, his smooth as honey voice wrapping itself around her. “Hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”
She was tempted to say you were , but from behind him she saw Freya shake her head. So Clementine shook her head and pushed her hands into the pockets of her coat for something to do.
“What can I help you with?”
“Just wanted to say hi , that’s all.”
She was ready to snap at him about disturbing her, but found herself so captivated by the wide smile he flashed. For fuck’s sake, he was beautiful. Short, messy blond hair that looked like it was never combed, dark wireframe glasses made his bright green eyes pop; Oakley was exactly the kind of person she would have a crush on.
Hell, she had crushed on someone like him recently.
Never again.
“Hi,” she forced out. Her voice was huskier than she liked and cringed internally at how it probably made her sound desperate. She wasn’t, no matter what her body— the fucking traitor —was feeling by being around him.
“Would it be too forward of me to ask if you’d like to join me for coffee?”
Why did he have to be so fucking bashful when he asked her that? She wanted to say yes , but her head was already shaking and there was no going back from that. Fighting back her frustrated sigh, she gestured to one of the few tables near the window. His smile was blinding, but not in a way that annoyed her. Which was saying a lot, because it was easy for her to be annoyed by most things.
People were an exhausting breed of annoyance.
“The usual for you, chef?” Luna asked as Clementine squeezed herself into a chair. When she nodded, the young woman turned to her companion with a giddy smile. “What about you, Oakley?”
On a first name basis? Unbelievable.
“Whatever the chef’s having, I’ll have the same.”
Luna nodded, almost bouncing as she walked away, leaving them alone. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead, she dusted invisible crumbs from the table, smoothed down her coat and fidgeted like it would save her from making a fool of herself.
“I make you uncomfortable.”
Her head snapped up at his words and she frowned. “No.”
“This is the first time you’ve looked me in the eyes since you came out of the kitchen.”
Because if I look into those bright green orbs, I won’t be able to stop this crush from becoming something else .
Instead of that word vomit, she shook her head. “I’ve got a lot on my mind and it’s hard to turn it off.” Which wasn’t untrue, except a lot was basically a highlight reel of the man sitting in front of her. She straightened her spine and added, “You’ve got my entire kitchen distracted.”
He blushed all the way to his ears and dropped his eyes to the table, adjusting his glasses. “I didn’t mean to do that. They’re a great group of people and I like making friends everywhere I go.”
“It wasn’t a criticism, just an observation.”
“But the donuts are why I keep coming back,” he admitted, the blush still clinging to his strong cheekbones, making his eyes pop. “How long have you been doing this?”
What is it about blushing men that makes them more endearing?
Clementine didn’t start anything new, because why reinvent the wheel? She wanted a place to showcase her talents and it just so happened she was damn good at it, that it brought people in constantly. Regulars like Oakley were the reason this place thrived.
That and Frankie Willows using her as the one and only source for all wedding desserts.
“About ten years, give or take.”
“It’s amazing,” he remarked.
Before he could say anything else, Luna appeared with their coffees and set them on the table. With another smile in Oakley’s direction, she bounced away. He frowned at the two steel tumblers resting in matching davaras—a steel bowl-like dish with a rim that stuck out enough for you to hold it comfortably. It had taken her a while to teach Luna how to make her preferred coffee and when she bought the right tools to drink out of, it all made sense. Her father had introduced her to the world of filter coffee and growing up, she’d always watched him prepare and drink his coffee this way.
“What are we drinking?”
“Filter coffee,” she said simply and pulled one of the tumblers towards her. “It’s a South Indian preparation, which is best enjoyed in a tumbler and a davara.”
“Like a cup and saucer?”
She resisted an eye roll, because it wasn’t like he knew what this process was all about. “Not really. Here, watch,” she told him and tucked her index finger and thumb under the lip of the tumbler. Lifting it up, she tipped the coffee into the davara and lifted her hand higher in the process, then lowered it again. She looked up to find his wide eyes following the action as she poured from the davara back into the tumbler a few times before she stopped.
“I don’t trust myself to do that without spilling it everywhere.”
“I can get you a teaspoon instead.”
A slight frown drew his eyebrows together. “So the acrobatics you performed was about mixing everything?”
“In a way. It also helps cool the coffee.”
“That’s a lot of work for a cup of coffee,” he mumbled and looked hesitant about reaching for his drink. She fought back a smile and swapped their tumblers, arching an eyebrow when he looked up at her in shock. “Why?”
“Something tells me you’re going to sit there and stare at the coffee instead of drinking it.”
He laughed, his blush deepening and she sighed softly. He was endearing, with and without the blush, making it difficult to remind herself that this was a bad idea. Clementine worked on the new coffee while he took a sip of the one she’d already done. The sound of him whistling drew her attention as he said, “I see why you like it.”
She allowed herself to smile—just the slight upward curve of her mouth on one side—before covering it up with her tumbler. She stared at the dark liquid, almost going cross-eyed in the process, because she could feel him watching her.
“Are you sure I don’t make you uncomfortable? Because I don’t want to force you to be my friend or anything.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Forcing me to be your friend?”
“Well…” he trailed off with a nervous laugh, gently twirling his cup. “Maybe not forcing , but I’d like for us to be friends.”
“Why?”
“Why be friends?” He took a sip and added, “Why not be friends?”
Why indeed, Clementine? A handsome, charming man wants to be my friend. Why not say yes?
Shrugging, she swirled her coffee for something to do. She had no issues being friends with men or people she was attracted to, but there was something else lingering beneath the surface of this thing with Oakley. She knew that if he got past her very strong defenses, she would not be able to resist him. And then she’d spiral down a hole that was clearly not going to be healthy or smart for her.
“What does being friends with you entail?” she asked finally, licking coffee off her lips. His eyes followed the action before he let out a shaky breath.
“Uh…right. Drinking more coffee together, lots more donuts and maybe even a friend’s discount?”
“Ah, so that’s why you want to be friends. You want free donuts.”
“ Discounted donuts. There’s a difference.”
She shook her head, hiding her smile in her coffee. “I’ll make you a deal,” she told him, lowering her tumbler. “You come up with some donut flavors, and I’ll give you one box of donuts free every month. The rest of the time, discounted.”
What are you doing, Clementine?
“Any flavors?”
“Within reason. I have veto power and if something feels off, I won’t make it.”
He nodded. “And one free box every month?”
“With a ten percent discount the rest of the time,” she added, arching an eyebrow.
“I feel like I’m getting more out of this friendship than you are.”
While it might seem easy on paper, erasing a crush was difficult. How did she tell her heart to stop racing, palms to stop sweating and mind to stop wandering? She had to desensitize herself to all of those pesky feelings and Clementine was sure the only way to do that was to be around him. All the time. Instead of writing him a letter, she would get him out of her system with donuts.
Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. I’ll say goodbye to this crush in no time. So there!
“I have an addition to this deal,” he countered and she frowned. “You let me take you out one day.”
“Friends don’t date.”
“I never said date . Go somewhere that isn’t your bakery. As much as I like this place, we can’t hang out here forever. I haven’t explored the rest of your fair town yet. You can be my tour guide.”
“Wildes is not big enough for a tour guide.”
“My food guide through Wildes, then,” he said, smiling wide because he knew she would cave. “Come on, show me all the best places to eat in your town, explore what else there is out there. Maybe it’ll even inspire my donut ideas.”
She stared at him a long moment, trying to piece together how this had become her day. She’d gone from hiding in her office every morning for a week to avoid seeing him, to sitting with Oakley for coffee and considering going on a food tour of Wildes. Her body and mind were screaming yes! really loudly, but when Clementine opened her mouth, what came out was, “No.”
His eyes widened, smile fading away for the first time since she’d met him and instantly she felt bad. Even a food tour could turn into a date and she’d been burned by attractive, charming people before. She knew that her crushes could get a little out of hand— my own fault, I know! —and the last thing she wanted was to hurt either of them. It wasn’t fair to accept a date when she didn’t trust herself around him.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she added, trying to justify her response.
He nodded, forcing a smile onto his beautiful face and stood up. “I get it. Have a good day, Clementine.”
“You too.” She sighed as he grabbed his box of donuts and walked out to his Jeep.
Before he could turn around to look at her, she picked up her coffee and went back to her office. Despite what everyone thought about her, she didn’t like hurting people’s feelings. And I still hurt him . She felt a little guilty, but she was only saving them from something worse.
They could be friends, with boundaries, and it would be absolutely fine.
Except, every time she thought about Oakley, her body went through the ‘crush effect’ and it scared the shit out of her.