23. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Scarlett
The words on the recipe card blur. Wiping my forearm across my eyes, I try reading the first ingredient again, but I can’t make out the letters. This is going to require a bigger fix.
Slipping my apron over my head, a yawn escapes, affirming what I already suspected. It’s time for a much-needed caffeine break if I have any intention of being at all productive the remainder of the afternoon.
Flipping the ‘Be Back In Ten’ sign, I walk next door. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is already bringing my sleepy brain back to life.
The bell jingles, and two familiar faces turn to greet me.
“How’s my favorite future sister-in-law?” Miles’ grin is full of mischief, and his eyes dance.
I roll my eyes. “It’s only been a month.”
“But we’ve all known that the two of you would end up together at some point.” Steven’s mom throws over her shoulder, already at the espresso machine. “Double shot latte?”
“Can you make it a triple?”
“A triple?” She turns and looks at me, brows knitted. “Everything okay?”
“Of course.” I wave a hand, indicating it’s nothing to worry about. “Just had a little trouble sleeping last night.”
“Was my brother the cause of that lack of sleep?” Miles asks, his question muffled by the whir coming from the machine making my coffee.
My eyes pop open, and heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Knew it.”
Sticking my tongue out, Miles’ laughter echoes throughout The Bleacher Bean. He lightly nudges me. The look on his face says: I plan on taking advantage of this situation for as long as I can.
Leaning on the counter, I blow out a heavy sigh. Turning back to Miles, I find him studying me.
Wringing my hands, I take a deep breath. Breaking eye contact, I watch his mom. “Do you have some time to chat?”
“Me?” Miles’ brows shoot up, and he points at himself, looking around the empty coffee shop. “Now?”
“Please don’t make this weird,” I beg.
“You know that’s my specialty, right?” Miles waggles his brows.
Rubbing my forehead, I groan. “Okay, weirder than usual.”
“Here you go, Scarlett.” Steven’s mom pushes my lifeline across the counter, and I bring it to my lips, gulping.
A ringing phone has Mrs. Bennett-Thornton heading to the backroom, giving Miles and me the chance to continue without her overhearing.
When I rest the coffee back on the counter. “If you have time now, that would be great.”
When Miles doesn’t say anything, I turn toward him. His arms are crossed over his chest, a smug grin shining back at me. “That bad, huh?”
Wrapping my hand around my cup, I fiddle with the lid. “No. But there aren’t many people I can talk to about this.”
“So it is about Steven, huh?” There’s a gleam in his eyes, and I’m starting to regret bringing it up. “I’m just teasing; I can chat.
The tightness in my chest loosens, and I exhale.
“Mom, I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Mrs. Bennett!”
She sticks her head through the door and sends us off with a wave.
Miles holds the shop door open for me, the bells ringing behind us.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I lead Miles toward Duncan’s Donuts For Dogs, but then pass the bakery and keep moving down the street, heading to the park across the street.
“So what’s up?” Miles asks, bringing his cup to his lips, as we wait at the crosswalk.
“You know the truth about Steven and me, right?”
“Which truth?” Narrowing my eyes, I look over to find his expression serious.
Glancing around to make sure there aren’t any other ears around to overhear before answering. “That our relationship is fake.”
“Ohhh, that truth.” Miles grins, crossing the street as the light changes. “Yes. I know that truth.”
Jogging to catch up to him, I head straight for the bench at the entrance of Maple Grove Park and plop down. Miles joins me, one arm resting across the back of the bench, resting his ankle on his knee, sipping his coffee like he has all the time in the world.
Chewing the inside of my lip, I start to wonder if I should bring this up at all. “Your dad asked me to promise him something before he died.”
“That sounds like my dad. Was it about Steven?”
Staring at the lid of my cup, I pick at the edges. And nod. Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly exhale. “He asked me to make sure your brother didn’t quit hockey. To remain his best friend. And…”
“And?”
“To help him open up to love.”
Miles takes a swig from his coffee cup. “Well, you’re good on the first two. How’s the third coming along?”
Repositioning myself on the bench, I play with my hair. “It’s not. Your brother isn’t cooperating.”
Miles spits out his coffee and starts coughing.
“Are you okay?” I furiously pat him on the back.
“I’m fine.” He coughs out, then clears his throat, humor lacing his tone. “So how isn’t he cooperating?”
“He won’t tell me what type of girl he likes.”
Miles shifts on the bench, turning to face me more fully, his eyes wide. “Why would he be telling you what type of girl he likes?”
“So I can try and set him up.”
“Wait. Say that again?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose. “Has Steven told you about me? What I—” I check to see if anyone is around, then whisper. “Do?”
“What you do?” Confusion fills his eyes before they follow the same path mine just did. “And why do you keep looking around to see if anyone is listening?”
“You know that Tea Time has eyes all over.” He throws his head back and howls. “I don’t want this to get out.”
“Don’t want what to get out, Scarlett?” He’s shaking his head, a massive grin crossing his face.
“Emma.”
“What about Emma? Do I even know an Emma?”
“I’m Emma,” I murmur. “From The Stands, With Love?”
His brows furrow, eyes narrowed. “The Matchmaker?”
“Shhhhhhhh. Yes!”
“How is that even possible? Your voice—”
“I use a voice modulator so my voice isn’t recognizable.”
Miles nods slowly before his expression turns to one of pride. “My little brother is better at keeping secrets than I thought. Good thing he didn’t agree to send her a questionnaire—Oh! Wait! That’s why you’ve been so pushy with him.”
“I haven’t been—”
“HA! Yes. You have. But now it all makes sense.”
Chewing on my lip again, I glance down at my coffee. “Yeah, it's important.”
“Scarlett?” Miles’ voice is gentle, drawing my gaze to him. “What if you misunderstood what my father was asking of you?”
Shaking my head vehemently, I open my mouth to protest when he continues.
“We’ve watched you and Steven since the two of you were in elementary school, middle school, and finally in high school. At some point there was a line drawn in the sand that you would only be friends. But there’s always been something more between you. We’ve all seen it.”
Staring down at my hands, I pull my lip through my bottom teeth, memories of Steven and me throughout the years. The phases our relationship has gone through. My feelings…
Is it possible that what Miles is saying is true? No…
“But your dad—
“Was asking you to help his son find love—”
“His match.”
“Did he say match?”
“Not exactly. But I’m positive that’s what he meant.”
Miles nods his head, watching me. A question in his gaze. “Are you telling me that you’re not in love with my brother?”
Shaking my head, my eyes sting. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. It only matters what’s best for Steven.”
“What if you are best for him?” My head whips toward him, eyes wide.
“But your dad—”
“Wanted Steven happy.” His gaze pins me. “He saw what we all saw. What we still see. You make my younger brother ridiculously happy.”
His words have my breath catching, and my hand tightens around the cup.
What if I’m wrong?
Shaking my head, I mumble, “No, that can’t be right. I’m supposed to find him his match, not be it. Right?”
My gaze lifts to Miles, and he shrugs. “You were the one in the room with my dad. Only you know what was said.”
I nod. Remembering the intensity in Mr. Bennett’s eyes as he asked me to help. I know what he said…what he meant.
I think.
Is it possible I’ve been wrong this entire time?
Miles reaches out, resting his hand on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But let me tell you there have been plenty of times I heard something that wasn’t what the other person meant.”
My forehead pulls, and my chest tightens.
“And if you’re certain, really certain that you and Steven being together isn’t what he meant.” His eyes are intent, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Then only you can decide what is best for the two of you. It’s obvious to me and anyone else who sees you—”
“I—” My hand raises, and I try to interject, but Miles presses a finger against my lips.
“Anyone who sees you two together knows how you feel about each other. It’s written all over your faces.”
He pulls his finger away, and my jaw hangs open.
Shrugging, his eyes twinkle. “But what do I know? You’re the matchmaker.”
Exactly! I am the matchmaker. Which is why his father asked me to help find Steven his match, right?
But what if what Miles just said is true?
Miles slips his arm over my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Don’t worry. I have no doubt you’ll figure out the right thing to do.”
“Come on.” He stands up, facing me. “You need to get back to work, and I have to get to practice.”
Blowing out a breath, I nod. Pushing up off the bench. “Thanks Miles.”
“Anytime…sis.”
My lips tug up, but my belly is swirling. My gaze drifts to Steven’s apartment; warmth explodes across my chest.
Am I doing what Mr. Bennett wanted, or do I have it all wrong?
I don’t know anymore.