Chapter 9
Jojo
Ishoved another cake pan onto the shelf and tried not to imagine Rafe halfway to Dallas. It was only seven o’clock and I’d already received six voicemails asking about cakes, consumed almost a full pot of coffee, and decided I hated best men.
One best man in particular.
I stood in the Burger Bonanza prep room, putting pans back on the shelf while my phone buzzed across the counter. It was another message. The woman wanted a three-tier cake for a Valentine’s Day wedding. Red velvet with champagne buttercream and gold hearts. I read the request twice.
Until last night, most of my orders had come from Lacey’s brides or people I knew around town. Now strangers had started asking for me by name.
The Icing on I Do.
I could almost picture the words painted across the front window of a bakery. Almost. I added the woman’s name to the list of people I needed to follow up with and slid the phone into my back pocket just as the door swung open behind me.
“Shouldn’t you be at home sleeping?” Helmut carried a box of hamburger buns under one arm and a cup of coffee in his free hand. “I took you off the schedule this morning for a reason.”
“I needed to bring everything back.”
“That could’ve waited until tomorrow.”
“I was awake.”
Helmut set the buns on the counter and studied me. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
“I slept.” Kind of. For almost two whole hours. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Rafe standing in the middle of the dance floor. I heard him say he wanted to see me again, followed by all the reasons he couldn’t tell me when.
I’d done the right thing. My life had no room for a man who appeared when his schedule allowed and vanished when the next emergency called. But knowing that didn’t make the empty space in my chest feel any better.
Helmut took a sip of coffee. “The cake looked good.”
“It looked great.”
“Lacey posted pictures last night. She tagged you about a hundred times.”
“I noticed.”
He studied me over the rim of his cup. “Are you planning to quit on me?”
“No.”
“Cut back?”
I thought about the growing list of requests on my phone. “Maybe.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges as he started to smile. “Good.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want? A speech?”
I clamped a hand to my hip and stared him down. “A little concern that you might lose your best waitress would be nice.”
“You spill drinks when you’re distracted, argue with customers who order well-done burgers, and disappear into the back room every time someone needs a birthday cake.” Helmut shrugged as he turned toward the kitchen.
“Wow. I’m going to miss these pep talks.”
“You’re not leaving yet.”
“No.” I opened another cabinet and returned a stack of cake boards. “Not yet.”
But for the first time, leaving Burger Bonanza didn’t feel like a dream I had no right to claim. People were calling. Even if only a third of the requests turned into actual jobs, it would be enough to start looking for my own place.
The back door creaked opened.
“Are you expecting a delivery?” Helmut called from the walk-in refrigerator.
“No.”
Footsteps crossed the kitchen. Heavy ones. My fingers tightened around the cake board in my hand. Rafe appeared in the doorway wearing the same suit pants from the wedding, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a dark shadow of stubble. He held two coffees and a paper bag.
My heart jumped before I could remind it that he’d left. But if he’d left, why was he standing in the kitchen?
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Dallas?”
“I’m on my way. ”
“You haven’t made it very far if you left right after the wedding.”
“I noticed.”
Helmut looked from Rafe to me. “I’m going to find something to do out front.”
“The restaurant isn’t open yet,” I said.
“I’m aware.” He grabbed his coffee and headed for the dining room. “Take your time.”
Coward.
Rafe crossed the prep room and set one of the coffees in front of me. “I didn’t know how you take it, so I brought cream and sugar.”
I stared at the cup. “You drove back to bring me coffee?”
“And breakfast.” He opened the bag and pulled out a cinnamon roll the size of a hubcap.
My stomach betrayed me with a growl.
Rafe smiled. “I had a feeling you might be hungry.”
“I can feed myself.”
“Only when you stop working long enough.”
I set down the cake boards. “Why are you really here?”
His smile faded. “I made it halfway to Dallas.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I spent the whole drive thinking about what you said.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You weren’t asking me to promise you forever. You just wanted to know if I planned on showing up again.”
I crossed my arms. “And?”
“And I handled the emergency.”
“How? You said your team needed you.”
“They did. I called and walked my team lead through the fix. It took longer than if I’d just done it myself, but now he’ll be able to take care of it if it happens again.”
I waited.
“He already had a plan,” Rafe said. “They shut down the problem section and moved two effects. He didn’t need me to race in and take over. He needed me to trust him.”
“That must have hurt.”
“Like hell.”
A laugh escaped before I could swallow it.
Rafe’s dimple appeared, but he didn’t let the moment turn into another joke. He rested his hip against the counter and folded his arms.
“I built a company full of people who know what they’re doing,” he said. “Then I trained them to call me every time something went wrong.”
“That sounds efficient.”
“It made me feel needed.” He dragged a hand over his jaw. “There’s a difference.”
I glanced at the shelves surrounding us.
Every pan, cake board, and decorating tool had a place because I’d put it there.
At home, I kept track of school schedules, doctor appointments, and which kid needed money for what.
At the restaurant, I filled in when someone called out.
With my cakes, I handled every order from the first sketch to the last sugar flower.
I took care of things because people depended on me. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped giving them the chance to prove they could manage without me. Maybe the two of us had more in common that I’d realized.
“So, what happens now?” I asked.
“I still need to go to Dallas.” Rafe pushed away from the counter. “There are inspections and reports, and I want to see what failed before we reopen that section.”
“So you came back to say goodbye again?”
“No.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I came back because I did a lousy job of asking you out.”
“You did mention something about calling when your schedule cleared.”
“I deserved that.” He tapped the screen, then handed me the phone. His calendar filled the display. A block stretched across the following Friday and Saturday that was marked as IDO – JOJO.
I looked up. “You put my name on your calendar?”
He pointed to the dates. “I cleared both nights because I didn’t know which one might work for you.”
My thumb hovered over the screen. He hadn’t left an empty space and hoped nothing filled it. He had claimed the time before he came back. “The kids are going camping with my brother next weekend, and I work until six on Friday.”
“So, dinner at seven-thirty?”
“You’d drive from Dallas for dinner?”
“For dinner with you?” He nodded. “Absolutely.”
“That’s a long way to come for a burger.”
“I was hoping we might find somewhere else to go besides the Burger Bonanza.”
“Now you’re getting picky.”
“Hey, I’ll eat here if that’s what it takes.” He took the phone and swiped to the next month. Several more Friday evenings had been marked unavailable.
I leaned closer. “What’s that all about?”
“Possibilities.”
“You blocked off more than one weekend?”
“I’m not assuming you’ll want a second date.” He offered a lopsided smile. “But if you do, I wanted to be prepared.”
The knot behind my ribs loosened. Rafe wasn’t promising forever. He wasn’t asking me to rearrange my life around him. He’d looked at the problem and done what he did best. He’d built us somewhere to start.
“What happens when something goes wrong at work?” I asked.
“My team handles it.”
“And if they can’t?”
“I call you. I tell you what happened, and we choose another day before we hang up.” He set the phone on the counter between us. “I won’t disappear. I won’t ask you to wait until my life gets easier.”
His phone buzzed. Rafe glanced at the screen.
Team
New motor installed. Inspector cleared the lift. We’re on schedule.
Another message appeared under the first.
Team
And before you ask, we already tested it twice.
The corner of his mouth lifted. He typed a quick response, then turned the phone facedown.
“That was Dallas?” I asked.
“They fixed it.”
“You don’t need to call?”
“No.” He slid the phone farther across the counter. “They know what they’re doing.”
There was no tension in his shoulders. No rush to check their work or demand every detail. For the first time since I’d met him, nothing in Dallas was pulling him away from the room.
I studied him, searching for any sign that he’d made the promise in the heat of the moment. Rafe held my gaze. No grin. No joke on the tip of his tongue.
“You know one date doesn’t mean this will turn into anything.”
“I know.”
“My kids come first.”
“They should.”
“I’m not bringing you around them anytime soon.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“And I can’t drive to Dallas every time you want to see me.”
“Then I’ll put more miles on the hearse.”
Despite myself, I smiled. “And I’m not giving up the bakery.”
His forehead creased. “Why would you?”
“Because long-distance relationships take time.”
“So do things worth having.” He nodded toward the shelves. “Besides, I want to see The Icing on I Do become real.”
Hearing him say the name out loud made me picture big pink letters painted on a window. I saw display cases filled with cakes and cookies. A small table where couples could sit during tastings. My kids doing homework in the back after school.
Rafe stood in the picture too. Not behind the counter. Not yet. But I could see him walking through the door to pick me up for a date.
He raised his hand and crooked his little finger.
I stared at it. “You can’t solve every problem with a pinky promise.”
“No. But I can promise to be here next Friday at seven-thirty.”
I hooked my finger around his. “Seven-thirty.”
His hand closed around mine. One tug brought me flat against his chest.
“Do I have to wait until Friday to kiss you again?” he asked.
“I don’t think that was part of the agreement.”
“Good.”
His mouth met mine. I gripped the front of his shirt as his arms circled my waist. Last night’s kisses had been fueled by exhaustion, attraction, and the possibility that we might never see each other again.
This kiss felt different. Rafe had left. Then he’d chosen to come back.
Helmut cleared his throat from the doorway. “Should I turn on the security cameras, or have we moved past the part where I threaten him?”
Rafe kept one arm around me. “I’m coming back next Friday.”
Helmut nodded. “Then I’ll save my threats for Saturday morning.”
“There won’t be a Saturday morning,” I said.
Rafe’s dimple appeared. “Good thing I cleared both days.”
I nudged an elbow into his ribs. He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
Helmut shook his head and headed toward the dining room.
My phone buzzed across the counter. I slipped out of Rafe’s arms and turned it over. Another cake inquiry filled the screen, this one from a woman planning a Christmas wedding.
“Business?” Rafe asked.
“Looks like it.”
He glanced at the stack of cake boards I’d abandoned when he arrived. “The Icing on I Do is filling up fast.”
“It’s not a done deal.”
“No building yet,” he said. “But you can still build the business.”
I picked up the cake board and slid it onto the shelf. When I turned around, Rafe had opened the paper bag and set the cinnamon roll on a napkin between us.
I tore it in half and handed him the larger piece.
“Does this count as our first date?” he asked.
“No.”
“Flirt breakfast?”
I took a bite and considered him across the counter. His shirt had come untucked during our kiss, and a faint streak of flour marked one sleeve. For the first time since he walked into the Phillips House carrying a coffin, he looked like he belonged in my world.
“That might be a thing,” I said.
He pulled out his phone and added it to the calendar.
FLIRT brEAKFAST WITH JOJO
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m organized.”
I laughed and reached for another piece of cinnamon roll. I didn’t know whether a baker in Ido and a special-effects guy in Dallas could make a relationship work. I had my kids to think about. Plus, we had jobs, responsibilities, and almost three hundred miles between us.
But Rafe had stopped expecting the rest of his life to wait until the work was done. And I had made room for someone without giving up any part of the life I’d built.
Next Friday wouldn’t answer every question. It didn’t have to. It was another date on the calendar and another chance to see where this might lead. It wasn’t a promise of forever, but it was enough to make me believe we could get there… one pinky promise at a time.
If you’d like to find out how Ido became the most romantic town in Texas, check out Faking I Do where Lacey finds her very own HEA.