Chapter Two Raspberry Pastries
Braxton
I had worked in quieter places than the Snowdrop Inn, but rarely in ones that felt quite this unfinished.
My laptop was open on the long table near the front windows, blueprints spread beside it in a way that would have made my office assistant wince.
Cold slipped in around the frames when the wind shifted, just enough to remind me I wasn't in a sleek downtown building with sealed glass and climate control.
Somewhere overhead, someone was moving furniture.
Somewhere behind me, Jane was washing dishes in the kitchen, the sound oddly reassuring, while Meri hummed off key to Christmas carols as she passed by.
The inn felt like a work in progress in the most literal sense.
Trim was still unfinished in the hallway. Holiday decorations were liberally strewn across the place, part of the cheeriness of the Bennet family. I found myself liking that far more than I expected.
I adjusted my glasses and glanced at my screen, forcing my attention back to the project Dex and I were midstream on. I could work from anywhere, technically. My job required focus, not location. Still, I hadn’t planned on staying in Maple Ridge this long.
That part was new.
I knew exactly why I was still here, even if I didn’t say it out loud.
Jane.
I had seen her balancing that tray like it was both fragile and precious, her attention fixed on keeping everything upright rather than on the people in front of her. The handle had looked like it was one second away from snapping, and my body had reacted before my brain caught up.
I had jumped up and taken it from her hands.
The look on her face when she realized the weight was gone had done something permanent to me. Jane had been completely surprised, as though she didn’t expect help. Then her sweet blush and stammering answer when I introduced myself.
She wasn't unaffected by me and I was certainly affected by her.
It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, though she certainly was.
It was the way she moved, careful and competent at the same time and the way she seemed surprised that anyone noticed her effort.
The way she flushed, not with flirtation but with embarrassment, as though attention was something she rarely was given.
Her raspberry pastries were divine. Anything she cooked or baked was better than most five star restaurants I had been to.
All of that combined made her the most attractive woman I had ever met. Jane was someone I wanted to know. Someone who mattered to me. I probably had the biggest crush on her and that part scared me a little.
I had always been open, friendly, and quick to offer help. It was part of my personality. My mother used to joke that I came out of the womb smiling at the nurses. Somewhere along the way, that had turned into a liability.
I had been told I was too much more times than I cared to count. Too eager. Too available. Too kind in a world that treated kindness like a negotiating position.
It had put me in some tight spots where I was taken advantage of more than I liked to admit. I relied on my family and my best friend Dex, to be honest with me and guide me from making such mistakes again.
I learned to dial my better nature back.
Or I tried to. However, my father and my sister Carly still complained that sometimes I was just too nice for my own good.
With Jane, I was now careful in a way that surprised me. I noticed the way she flinched, almost imperceptibly, when rooms got crowded. The way she seemed to brace herself before asking for anything, as though expecting the request to be denied. She wasn't like the women I had dated before.
Those women had been confident and polished.
They were comfortable in rooms full of money and expectations.
They knew exactly what they wanted and assumed I would be happy to provide it.
Dinners had been negotiations disguised as flirtation.
Compliments came with a cost I was always expected to absorb.
Jane didn’t do that.
She worked hard. She noticed details. She fed people and then disappeared back into the kitchen as if applause was something meant for other people.
So I toned it down.
I waited before offering help. I asked instead of assuming. I kept my voice lighter than I felt. Not because I was playing a game, but because I could see how easily she startled when given attention.
Caring for her wasn't something I was going to rush.
And I did care for her. The more I learned about Jane Bennet, the more I was on a slippery slope of falling for her.
I glanced up as she crossed the room, carrying a basket of napkins toward the dining room tables. She moved quickly but not carelessly, her focus sharp, her expression calm in that way that suggested she was juggling far more than she let on.
Everyone relied on her. In the short time I had come to stay at the inn, I could see that clearly.
They asked questions without waiting for answers. They handed her problems without checking if she had space to take them. Jane accepted everything with a nod and a quiet smile, as though that was simply the role she had agreed to play.
It unsettled me.
Not because she couldn't handle it. She clearly could.
But because no one seemed to ask whether she should have to.
Dex slid into the chair across from me, coffee in hand, his gaze following mine before he masked it with a casual sip.
“You’re staring,” he said mildly.
“I’m observing,” I corrected.
He smiled. “You’re staying for a while, aren’t you?”
It wasn't really a question.
“For now,” I agreed. I was rather hoping that with close proximity, Jane might get used to me and let me get to know her better. It was a slow process where more than once I was tamping down my impatience.
Dex raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. He was good like that. He understood my dilemma, having fallen in love with Jane’s sister Lucy.
That had been a fun courtship to watch.
“I heard something about a wedding,” Dex remarked.
I nodded. “A weeklong one.”
He winced. “That explains the tension that Lucy suddenly has.”
It also explained Jane’s.
“She is taking it on,” I said.
Dex followed my gaze again. “Of course she is.”
That bothered me more than it should have.
“I think we should both stay and help out,” I murmured.
“You mean like we did with the renovations?” Dex dryly asked.
“I still want to see what’s beneath the panelling upstairs,” I mentioned. It was as good of an excuse as any to stick around. Besides, I had gotten used to the horribly outdated room with seventies decor that still needed to be renovated where I slept.
Jane passed our table then, her attention fixed on the coffee station. I stood without thinking and reached for the empty carafe.
“Can I?” I asked, stopping myself before finishing the sentence.
She glanced up, startled, then smiled. “If you want to.”
I filled the carafe and returned it, stepping back immediately as Jane finished refilling the station with supplies. Her smile lingered before she excused herself and went back towards the kitchen.
That smile felt like a small victory. Also the fact she was lingering a little longer in my presence lately.
I sat back down and closed my laptop. Work could wait a few minutes. I had already decided I was staying. Not because it was convenient, but because leaving felt like a mistake I would regret long after the road curved away from Maple Ridge.
“I think we can let the office know we have extended our stay,” Dex observed, his lip twitching in an almost grin before he took another sip of his coffee.
“Thank you,” I told him. Not that I had to thank him but it was nice to have someone who understood. Besides, I knew he wanted to spend time with Lucy, so it wasn’t a hardship for him to stay as well.
I thought about Jane, with her curves, her peaches and cream complexion, her blue eyes and her strawberry blonde hair. When she smiled at me, I felt like my heart swelled. I wanted to know everything about her. I felt like I could do a lifetime of learning about Jane and never tire of it.
Perhaps I already was in love. It was both frightening and exhilarating.
The front door opened then, letting in a blast of cold air. I had a direct view of the lobby as he approached the desk.
He was confident and moved in a practiced way.
His clothes were well fashioned. He leaned on the lobby desk, talking to Kitty in a slightly condescending manner despite his smile.
It made me instantly annoyed. He scanned the lobby, his eyes drawn to the reception room where Jane had some bar towels to replace the ones at the coffee station.
As if drawn like a magnet, Jane looked over to the lobby.
She froze. It was brief. Easy to miss. But I saw it.
The man smiled like a predator before turning back to Kitty. I watched Jane’s expression close in on itself, her shoulders drawing inward as though she were making herself smaller as she turned, moving almost frantically quickly out of the room, no doubt back to the safety of the kitchen.
I didn’t know who he was, but I knew I didn’t like him.
Not because of what he said, but because he had taken something from Jane. She had looked lost the moment he walked through the door.