Chapter 19
Rose
After an incredibly long but wonderful day, I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and collapse.
The main problem, however, is that my bed tonight is technically Tank’s bed. And once I’ve got on my pajama pants and oversized soft tee, I emerge from his bathroom and just stare at it.
He’s not here, of course. But just a few nights ago, he was, and he will be once I go back to my place.
His bed. Though I’ve been sleeping in the guest room and it might have been easier to let the Emilys stay in this room, I wasn’t about to let someone else sleep in here.
The weird rise of possessiveness actually startled me when Jacks asked if they’d be sleeping in his room since I was in the guest room.
Absolutely not.
So, I moved the things I’ve brought from home into Tank’s bedroom. But now that I’m faced with the prospect of actually getting into his bed, it feels a little too intimate.
The last time I shared a man’s bed was with David. Not that Tank and I are sharing his bed. Just that I’ll be in it. Which feels like a few steps removed from sharing it with him. Maybe I’m overthinking.
Maybe that’s what I do best.
I wonder if it will smell like Tank. Probably not—I know the sheets are clean. He assured us tonight that he washed all the sheets the day I moved in. “You had good timing,” he said. “I’m a creature of habit and wash the sheets once a week. You happened to pick the right day.”
More like the AC picked the right day to break.
“What are you doing?”
I startled at Emily’s voice and glance up to find her standing in the doorway. “What? Oh, nothing. Just …” My gaze goes back to the bed.
Now, she grins, wickedly. “I see. Feels weird to climb into another man’s bed?”
Jacks appears in the doorway, smiling just as wide. “Are you sure you don’t want us to sleep in here?”
“No.” The one word comes out quickly, a bullet fired from a gun. “I just needed a moment.”
Jacks’s grin slips, and she gives me a sympathetic look. “It’s normal to need to work through feelings. Even if you’re not sleeping with Tank, you haven’t slept in another man’s bed since David. It’s okay to process.”
Emily scoffs. “Meh. Processing can take too long. A man like Tank Graham doesn’t come along every day. And you’re not going to bed with him right now; you’re just sleeping in his bed.”
It’s true, but I can’t help but consider more than simply sleeping in Tank’s empty bed. That’s a whole lot of steps ahead, but I can’t help but think about all the other things that before now, I hadn’t considered.
Dating. Kissing. Getting engaged. Getting married.
David and I waited until we were married to sleep together. In all senses of the word. While that seems so very at odds with the current culture—even back then, too—I don’t regret it. And I think I’d want to do that again.
There was something so precious about waiting.
It strung out the tension between us in a way that was so powerful I can still remember how it felt.
And while there was the smallest bit of unfamiliarity on our wedding night, it didn’t bother me a bit.
I enjoyed every special moment, and we both knew we had the rest of our marriage to learn each other better.
Would Tank think that’s strange? Is it totally bizarre to be a fully grown, middle-aged adult who wants to save sex for marriage?
No, I decide. Because I’m a fully grown adult who knows herself well.
I can only hope Tank doesn’t hate this idea.
And if he can’t respect this, then maybe he’s not the man I thought he was after all.
Honestly, given what I know of him and the fact that he hasn’t even wanted to stay here while I’m here, I get the sense he’ll be on board.
“Should we leave you alone with your thoughts?” Jacks says, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Argh, no. Get in here.” I sit down on the bed and pat the comforter. “Come on, you two.”
Jacks practically leaps onto the bed, and Emily folds herself gracefully into her favorite seated yoga pose.
Almost crisscross applesauce—what I would say to my third graders—but with both feet on top of her thighs.
I forget the actual name, but she told me often it’s called the easy pose.
There’s nothing easy for me about it. My knees ache just looking at her.
“So, you really liked him?” I ask, even though they both already said they did. Something about being in his bed, thinking about being in his bed, is making me hungry for reassurance.
“The two of you practically glow around each other. You are positively smitten.” Though Emily doesn’t use the word love, per my earlier request, it’s clear what she means. Still—smitten is somehow easier for me to process right now.
“Not as smitten as he is,” Jacks adds. “It’s adorable. I’m so happy for you, Rose.”
“You’d be a fool not to marry that man,” says Emily. “Maybe you should ask him.”
Jacks gasps. “And deny her a proposal? Absolutely not. This time around, she deserves a whole, romantic event.”
Though I would never take back David’s simple proposal in our favorite booth in the Italian restaurant where we went on our first date, there was the tiniest part of me that wished for something a little …
grander. He was never big on grand gestures, even in our earliest days.
I had no doubt he loved me, but he tended to show me more in practical ways.
He took care of me and later, of the kids.
He kissed me, told me he loved me, and had the kind of steady care I could count on.
Whenever I would secretly wish for something a little more—flowers for no reason or a surprise gift or meal or trip—I felt guilty. I shouldn’t have wanted more than I had. Not when I had so much.
“A big proposal at my age would be silly,” I say, willing myself to believe it.
“Well, that’s an ageist thought if I ever heard one,” Emily says. “Why shouldn’t you have a big proposal? What, exactly, about being your age would mean you don’t deserve something grand?”
“I mean, I’ve already had one proposal. I’ve been married. Isn’t it … tacky?”
“It’s romantic,” Jacks corrects. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting romance—at any age.”
Emily gives her a pointed look, which Jacks ignores. Though I’ve always respected Jacks’s statement on being done with love, from time to time, Emily presses her on it, challenging her assertion that she isn’t open to love again.
I think we’re about to go there again, when Emily turns to me.
“Not to dampen the mood, but it’s high time we talk about your bakery and how it’s going.
Based on how much cookie dough you made us help you make tonight, it seems like things are going well.
But until now, your refusal to talk about it has given me the opposite impression.
Talk to me. Let us know if we can help in any way. ”
Sometimes I wish Emily weren’t so astute. But it is about time I talk to someone about this. And by the time I finish telling them about my slow sales and the theory that the town’s loyalty to Big Mo has kept them from fully embracing my bakery, Jacks has her laptop out and is crunching numbers.
I enjoyed this conversation a lot less than discussing Tank, but I do feel better finally admitting that I’m not doing as well as I hoped.
With a sigh, Jacks slides her reading glasses up to the top of her head and turns her laptop to face me.
I can already tell from her face what the news will be.
“This is what we’re looking at. If nothing changes, you’ve got maybe two months before you hit what you said would be your point of failure. ”
“Two months,” I say slowly. “That will be … Christmas.”
When I first sat down with the Emilys to tell them my dream of opening a brick-and-mortar bakery, Jacks advised me to look at my finances and then make a number that would be my point of failure.
Essentially, it would be the place where I’d feel uncomfortable putting any more of my money into the business.
After that, I could get a small business loan if I felt like I was close to making it work.
Or … I could walk away.
Even hearing that I’m two months away from that number makes me feel ill.
“I’m sorry,” Emily says, patting my hand. “I think you’ve done a wonderful job with everything. And I’m sorry I didn’t find out that the diner sold cakes and pies. I’m not sure if that’s why it’s been so hard, but I should have seen it.”
“I really don’t think there would have been any way to know.
I mean, unless I happened to eat at the diner when I came to check out the space.
Even then, I might not have thought that it would be significant.
I don’t think I quite understood the culture of the town.
And who knows, maybe it’s not about that. ”
“There are so many factors to consider,” Jacks says, snapping her laptop shut.
Her expression brightens. “But it all might change now. I mean, you’re dating Tank Graham.
Surely, that will have a positive impact.
If the issue is loyalty. He seems to have won over the whole town.
I think that loyalty might now extend to you. ”
“And things might totally change based on how much you’ve sold from the coffee shop,” Emily points out.
She pauses. “Not that I’m saying you should close your doors, but would Kalli be open to having you as her exclusive supplier?
I know you dreamed of having an actual bakery, but that’s an option. ”
“Honestly, going back to baking without a storefront makes sense. Despite the annoyance of having to bake up here and walk things over multiple times a day, I like being around Kalli and Molly and the full coffee shop.”
“You could have a full bakery by this time next week,” Jacks says. “I really think people getting to taste your food and see you with Tank will make a difference.”
“Maybe. But now, I’m not even so sure if that’s what I want. More than anything, I hate giving up. Especially when John has been so against it.”