Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Baking had always been something Jessica enjoyed.

She hadn’t done much in recent years since she’d lived on campus, but when she was home, she always baked her famous chocolate cake and her dad’s favourite — eclairs.

So, today she was baking. But the theme was a little different than she’d ever taken on before — peaches.

She was turning dozens of peaches into dishes like peach cobbler, peach pie, peach compote, and peach jelly.

Anything she could think of that might include peaches, she was making it.

There was flour and sugar coating every surface of the kitchen, and when she saw her own reflection in the oven door, she saw it in her hair, on her nose, and streaked down the front of her apron.

But she didn’t care. She was determined not to let these peaches go to waste.

She’d set buckets of peaches out on the curb for sale and had already made two hundred dollars.

Thank you very much! She smiled at the thought — maybe she could afford to buy a nice couch soon.

Or a second-hand one at the very least. She’d purchased a sky-blue hatchback on Saturday, finally turning in the rental that had cost her a fortune, leaving her savings account a little slim.

Peach money would help her make it through to her next paycheque.

She measured two cups of flour and sifted it into the next batch of peach cobbler. The fruit was divine. She’d eaten so many slices that she felt a little sick to her stomach, but that probably wouldn’t stop her from eating more as soon as the feeling subsided.

The phone rang, and she held it to her ear with her shoulder while she stirred. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you up to today?”

“I’m baking. I’ve got to do something with all those peaches from my backyard, so I’m up to my eyeballs in desserts.”

Her mother paused, and the silence was loud. Then she spoke again, this time in a firm tone. “Jessica, you’re twenty-two years old, living in a new city with a brand-new job. This is the time to make friends, to build a life for yourself. Not to sit at home baking on your day off.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll meet people. I’ve already made a couple of friends.”

“Your neighbour?”

“Yes, Teja is really lovely. And she’s helping me get connected.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. But I really wish you wouldn’t isolate yourself. You only get the weekend to yourself. You should join some clubs, get out of the house. You’re too young to be housebound already.”

“I’m not housebound.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “You can be so dramatic sometimes, Mom.”

“Just make sure you have some fun. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll have fun. I promise.”

There was a knock at her front door. Jessica stared at it, her brow creased, as if she would be able to see through the timber and identify who it was. She didn’t know enough people yet to have visitors, and Teja was out for the day at a wedding.

Her mother was in the middle of a diatribe about her sister’s new pug when Jessica cut her off. “Umm… sorry, Mom. I don’t want to interrupt, but there’s someone at my front door. I’ll call you back.”

“Be careful! It might be a serial killer. I was watching this show last night…”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “Bye, Mom.”

She hung up, feeling a little bad. But the last thing she needed right now was to hear some horrifying story from the latest CSI-type show her mother was obsessed with.

She had to answer the door, and she didn’t want to do it while panicking about imaginary serial killers.

The reality was almost as bad — it might be Hilton, her ex-boyfriend.

But it couldn’t be him because he didn’t know where she lived. Right?

She tiptoed down the hallway to the front door, reached for the umbrella that was resting against the hall table, and held it aloft over her shoulder like a baseball bat ready to swing.

“Hello?” She tried the peep hole but couldn’t see anything.

“Hey, it’s Tyler. I brought coffee…”

With a sigh of relief, she lay the umbrella back where it belonged and pulled the front door open. “Did you say coffee?”

He laughed. “I thought you could use it after a full week of teaching.” He stood on her welcome mat with two takeout cups in his hands. His smile was infectious.

“You thought right. Come on in, friend.”

The kitten chased Tyler playfully through the kitchen, swatting at his heels.

He picked her up and scratched her gently on the head until she purred.

Then he set her back down and settled in a chair at the small white dining table across from Jessica.

She was sipping her coffee, glad to have something to cut the sweetness of the peaches she’d recently gorged on.

“I hope you like peaches. I plan on sending you home with as many as you can carry.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What’s going on in here?”

“I’m baking.” She stood to pull a peach pie across the counter, cut a slice, placed it on a plate, and handed it to him. “Peach pie?”

“That looks and smells incredible. Thanks.”

He took a bite, and his eyes widened. “Wow. I haven’t had peach pie in years. It’s so good.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She really shouldn’t sit down. She could feel the fatigue washing over her, and she might not get up and moving again if she rested too long. There was still so much to do. The kitchen looked as though a bag of flour had exploded. “What have you been up to?”

“Job hunting,” he said between bites. “It’s not as much fun as it sounds.”

“I remember all too well.”

“Can I ask… is there some kind of reason you’ve decided to bake every single peach in Georgia today?”

“I have peach trees,” she said by way of explanation and waved an arm toward the back windows that looked out over the yard.

“I’m drowning in peaches and not sure what to do with them all.

I’ve sold as many as I could, and eaten more than I should, and now I’m baking the rest of them to give to people or store in my freezer.

I’ve also been canning, jamming, and anything else I can think of with Teja.

We’ve got peaches coming out of our ears. ”

He laughed. “Well, they’re delicious. You should consider a career change.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll stick with the classroom. I’m exhausted and feel like I’m going to explode, I’ve eaten so many.”

“Mmm… well, there are worse ways to die than by peach.” He grinned.

“I hope you don’t mind if I clean up. I’m about to lose the will to do anything. My feet hurt, my back aches, and if I sit much longer, I’ll talk myself into leaving it for tomorrow.”

“I’ll help,” he said as he scraped up the last of his pie and jumped to his feet.

“No, really. You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, that way you’ll have no excuse when I ask you out.”

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. It was hard to know what to say to that. “Oh.” She’d had a feeling he might want more than friendship when she’d heard him through the front door. But still, she hadn’t been asked out so boldly and confidently in… well, ever. It made her knees a little weak.

He started stacking dirty bowls and mixing spoons in the sink and rinsing them. “I thought we could have dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” she replied, immediately forgetting that she was full of peaches.

They washed dishes and wiped down counters while talking about anything and everything.

Jessica was amazed at how easily the conversation flowed.

He was kind and thoughtful. He didn’t shy away from any topic she raised and was happy to listen to her ideas.

Before long, they were laughing over silly stories from their respective childhoods, and she felt as though they’d never run out of things to say to each other.

He reached for a bowl as she leaned to rinse a dishcloth, and somehow they ended up with him pressed against her, with her back to the sink.

“Uh, sorry,” he said.

“Excuse me,” she added with an apologetic smile.

But neither of them moved away. He raised a hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch made her skin quiver. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her face. Then his hand dropped until his fingertips brushed against her cheek.

He wiped gently. “You have a little flour here… and here… and here.” As he spoke, he touched her forehead, then kissed the tip of her nose.

She laughed softly. “Apparently I got it everywhere but the bowl.”

His head dropped, his eyes fixed on hers.

Her breathing grew shallow, quickening. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She chewed on her lower lip, and his gaze fell to watch.

Then his hands cupped her cheeks, and he let his lips graze over hers so softly that she almost didn’t feel it.

His eyes crinkled around the edges but never let go of hers, and then his lips pressed to hers firmly.

She was afraid her legs might give way, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.

Her eyes drifted shut, and she melted into his kiss.

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