11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Evalina
At no point did I think to mention that I had driven myself to my bakery until Koa shows up at six on the nose in his fancy sports car, parks by the front door, and slips through the entrance like a cat on the prowl.
The air has changed between us, charged and electric in a way that is so very different from our first handful of interactions.
In a way that terrifies me. My stomach clenches when he eases up to the counter and grins.
“How was your day?” He’s dressed casually, but everything about him still screams rich kid who never knew a day of struggle in his life until recently, and even that didn’t last long.
“Considering no one came in to have a donut fight with me, pretty well, actually.” Word has gotten out that my shop will be moving or closing, so it seems everyone in town has decided to come for one last Sparkly before we’re gone forever.
“Ah, but was it as exciting without the donut wars?” Koa quirks a brow and leans on the counter beside the register. Is this the same man? Not a week ago he was a huffing, puffing, pseudo-maniac, and now?
I lean on the counter opposite him and narrow my gaze. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with the cranky jerk that destroyed my bakery not once, but twice?”
Koa holds up a finger. “First, I was not alone in the destruction.” He lifts a finger for each point.
“Second, I’d hardly say a few smashed donuts equates with total destruction.
Third, I’m in a much better mood now that my sister isn’t crying daily.
Fourth, I still think I owe you a better apology for what I did cause than a pot of oddly blue violets and an ice cream cone. ”
My gaze drifts to the potted plant that still lives beside the register. “Oddly blue?”
“Aren’t they supposed to be, you know, violet?”
Touching one of the delicate flowers, I chuckle. “I guess I never put that much thought into the colors. There’s pink and white, too. Probably even more.”
“That’s just wrong for so many reasons, but flower aside, are you ready to go pick up Dustin and have some fun?”
“About that.” I push off the counter and turn the lights off. “I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that I have a car. I would have called you but I don’t have your number, so I guess follow me home?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up to his full height, which is, now that I pay closer attention, taller than I remember. “Nah, I’d rather have a chance to chat on the way. Why don’t I take you home, then after dinner I’ll drop you both back here for your car?”
“Are you sure? It’s out of your way to come back here.”
“I’m sure. I want to talk like grown-ups before there’s a child in the vehicle.
Come on.” He nods toward the door, but my mind is stuck on what on earth we might have to discuss that Dustin can’t hear.
For a moment, I worry he won’t be able to coach Dustin, which will break my son’s heart.
It’s the only thing I can think of that he’d want to discuss without my son present.
Once everything is locked up, I follow Koa to his comically small car and all but fall in when he opens the door for me.
Inside is all sleek lines, bells and whistles, and supple leather that I’m not sure I could ever get used to.
My whole life has been spent paycheck to paycheck, barely making ends meet at the end of each month, only to do it all over again.
Once he’s behind the wheel and moving us out of the lot, I give him quick directions and stare out the window.
Touching anything in the vehicle seems like a poor choice.
I can almost see the price tags attached to every knob, dial, and flashy light.
The motor purrs like a happy kitten while he maneuvers the early evening traffic.
Once we are well away from the worst of the congestion, Koa glances at me.
“So—”
“Are you going to stop coaching Dustin?” My gaze snaps to the profile of his face in time to catch the scrunch of his forehead.
“No, why would you think that?”
“You said you wanted to discuss grown-up things without him present, and that was the only thing I could think of.” My heart races.
Why am I acting like this? Koa has graciously offered to take Dustin and me out for pizza and games.
This is not a date. At that thought, my stomach almost lurches.
A date? What would even possess me to think of that word?
“I was referring to the incidents that happened between us. I know we agreed to start over at Dustin’s last practice, but I realize my actions cost you two days’ wages.
If you’ll let me, I’d like to financially compensate you for the loss.
” Koa glances my way, likely to ensure he hasn’t offended me.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.
Coaching Dustin is payment enough.” I stress my final word, hoping he understands that is the end of the conversation.
The last thing I want is a handout, even if what happened did cost me some.
I played a part in it as well, so I can’t blame the lost income entirely on him.
He frowns but says nothing more on the matter.
“Have you found a new location?”
“I haven’t. Our apartment is just up here.
” Pointing up the hill, I pray he doesn’t dig deeper into my impending financial ruin.
If nothing else, he can pick up a hint, and stays quiet until we park.
After struggling a bit with the confounded door that opens up instead of out, I manage to extricate myself before he reaches my side.
I don’t want to grow used to his politeness, to look forward to him in any way, shape, or form, because there is every reason to believe that once Dustin’s league season is over, I’ll never see Koa Keaton again.
That’s fine. Totally fine. He’d probably burn my life to the ground anyway.
Heaven knows, I could never keep a man like him, one who can have anything and everything he could want, including a woman with no traumatic backstory.
Inside our small apartment, Dustin sits on the sofa with his sitter, explaining to the teenager how to beat the final level in his racing game.
It’s as old as the hills, but it’s the only gaming system I could afford—used and a little beat up.
Ansley smiles and nods, though I’m positive she has no idea what he’s talking about.
“Hello, Ms. Renn.” She briefly looks up from Dustin’s explanation to nod a hello before my son drags her back into his game.
“Hi, Ansley. Any issues?”
“Nope. Dustin is never an issue.” She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “He’s the best kid I sit for, and I’m not just saying that because you pay me well.”
“Speaking of payment. Here is this week’s pay. Thank you so much for staying late with him today.”
Ansley assures me it’s not a problem, accepts her pay, and gives Dustin a big hug on her way out.
It’s only now that Dustin even notices Koa standing beside me.
His eyes go wide and his mouth falls open, but I don’t give him a chance to be shocked by Koa’s presence for long.
If he’s going to be surprised by something, it should be our outing.
“Guess what, kiddo? Mr. Keaton is taking us for pizza and video games. What do you think?” I lean over the back of the sofa conspiratorially. “Or would you rather have my lasagna tonight and send him home?”
“Do I get a say in this?” Koa teases.
As I say no, Dustin ignores my choices and runs to his room to get his shoes. There is no doubt about it, Koa is his favorite person now and forever.
“Make yourself comfortable. I want to change, then we can head out, if that’s okay?
” Motioning down the hall, I assume he will be amenable and agree that a woman wearing a fifties style diner outfit that smells like coffee and baked goods isn’t appropriate for going out.
However, he grasps my hand and tugs me back a few steps.
“You look fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m dressed like a crazy person for pizza and games. Plus, this thing is actually uncomfortable.”
Koa chuckles and releases my hand. “You know, I think you get to decide the uniforms. Maybe a change is in order once you find a new location? I could—”
“Mr. Keaton! Are you going with us to the arcade? I love the arcade. I’m so good at the…”
My son rambles on long enough for me to escape the living room and change.
Ideally, I’d also like a shower, but I doubt either of them will give me the luxury.
Instead, I spritz a little vanilla essential oil on my wrist, tie my hair up in a sleeker ponytail, change into jeans and a tee, and call it a day. It’s better than the uniform, at least.
Out in the living room, Koa and Dustin are working through the racing game so I pop my hip and gasp. “Excuse me, but I thought we were in some sort of hurry?”
Koa dips his head back to look over the sofa and eyes me up and down. An easy grin tugs at his lips before he nudges Dustin. “I think she’s forgetting something, what about you, slugger?”
“I’m not sure,” Dustin says, but the little stinker knows something.
I back away from the sofa. “Whatever the two of you planned while I was getting ready will have to—”
I’m stunned into silence when Koa swipes his fingers across my cheek, depositing a sticker. My mouth falls open and I point at my son. “You told him about our game? You little stinker! That’s not fair. You don’t get to bring in new players without my approval.”
Our game. The silly game we’ve played since Dustin was a toddler.
We’d sneakily put stickers on each other and see how long it took the other person to find them.
Once, he put one on the back of my uniform and I walked around with it all day.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been a bumper sticker the size of a semitruck that said, “honk if you love donuts.” It did, however, explain why people honked at me in the parking lot.