The Forget-Me-Not Bakery Page 17

  Something settled inside Paige’s chest as she basked in his words and the voice that delivered them straight to her heart. Her eyes met his, and the smile within them was just as genuine as the one donning her lips. ‘Ditto.’

  Paige couldn’t believe the difference a few short weeks could make. In fact, she found it hard to believe she’d still been on the hamster wheel in New York City only a handful of months ago. Still contemplating what it would be like to fulfill her childhood dream of owning a bakery instead of actually doing it. Still subjecting herself to Allison’s relentless nagging during their Skype calls about how perfect it would be to own side-by-side businesses on Port Landon’s Main Street.

  And it was. Perfect. At thirty-three, the prospect of new beginnings was something almost unheard of in her world. Until now.

  Now, she was following her dream, being the gourmet baker she’d always wanted to be, living in a small community that supported her and helped her to feel like she didn’t just exist. She belonged.

  And she had fallen in love. It was the most unbelievable part of the entire scenario. Cohen Beckett had come quietly into her life, fitting perfectly into the puzzle she hadn’t known had been missing a piece. She wasn’t sure she knew what love felt like, but the butterflies in her belly and the tingles on her skin she felt with just his presence or the faintest touch, coupled with the way he seemed to be beside her – not in front of her, and not behind her – every step of the way …

  Paige hoped that was what love was. She loved the way Cohen made her feel, about him and about herself. She loved the way he understood their differences and worked with them instead of trying to transform them into similarities. She loved his devotion to his son, and his easy way of just being.

  She cared deeply for Cohen, and she knew in her heart that it was love she felt for him. She didn’t understand it, and she had nothing to compare it to, but Paige knew it had to be love. Nothing else came close to describing her feelings where he was concerned.

  Everything since she had come to Port Landon had been hard work – remodeling the bakery and the upstairs apartment, fine-tuning recipes and acquiring bulk inventory for her business, branding and professional marketing to get the word out.

  But falling for Cohen had been effortless. Easy. She hadn’t been expecting him, had been downright anxious about his interest in her from the beginning. Yet, he had managed to become the man she knew she could build a life with, which was something Paige couldn’t believe she was even thinking about. The fact that she was said more about the way she felt than words ever could. The Paige Henley from New York never would have thought along those lines. About anyone. The Paige Henley from Port Landon, however … she wanted to try something new. She wanted to be open to giving love a chance.

  Paige was shuffling plastic containers full of cupcakes around in her glass-doored cooler to get to the bread dough she’d refrigerated yesterday. With two evenings of cupcake decorating done, and only a few dozen cupcakes left to finish, there was no reason why they shouldn’t be able to complete everything in time for the fundraiser tomorrow. She had also designated her shop as a drop-off spot for items in the silent auction Cohen was spearheading, and she was relieved the business owners had dropped off everything on the list Cohen had provided her with.

  The afternoon had been steady with customers, but not the overwhelming crowds she had become accustomed to each day during the workweek. A lot of shop owners and their employees popped in to buy an afternoon snack if they had the chance, but today seemed less hectic. She wasn’t complaining. When the doorbell rang loudly, she was still half obscured by the refrigerator door.

  ‘Hey, Paige.’

  She turned, recognizing the voice instantly. ‘Bryce, hey. What brings you by?’ It was then she realized Bryce wasn’t alone. A boy who looked about the same age stood near the display table nearest the door. His hair was inky black. Though she could only see the back of him, Paige had a feeling she knew who he was. ‘And who’s your friend?’

  ‘Oh, that’s Hunter. I wanted to show him all the cool stuff you have in here.’ Bryce tossed his backpack down on the floor before joining his friend at the table.

  Paige felt a swell of pride, pleased with the idea that Bryce would want to show her bakery off to a friend. ‘Hello, Hunter.’ If there was any table to show off the largest amount of sweet treats in the smallest amount of space, they had picked the right one. She’d spent a lot of time in the morning arranging a variety of squares, butter tarts, and cookies so there would be plenty of selection for a Grab N’ Go bag if customers wanted to try something new. All day, she had kept an eye out to see which kinds were being chosen over others, but so far only a few of each goodie had been purchased, and only three of the twenty takeout boxes beside the tray had been used.

  ‘Hey, Ms H.’ Hunter only offered her a quick glance, obviously too busy taking in the mountains of sugar that surrounded him. Paige didn’t mind. It was nice to see someone appreciating her efforts, even if he didn’t plan on purchasing anything.

  ‘Have you got those interview questions ready for me yet?’ She fought the urge to hover, instead choosing to shout from the opened refrigerator in hopes of getting the bread dough unearthed from its deepest depths.

  It took Bryce a moment to answer. ‘Uh, no, not yet. Dad told me I could wait till this weekend once we had all the cupcakes decorated.’ He whispered something to his friend that she couldn’t make out. ‘I’ll bring them to you soon, though, okay?’

  ‘Of course.’ She felt bad. She wasn’t trying to push Bryce about it, and she certainly didn’t want him to think she was harping on him about schoolwork. That wouldn’t keep her in the cool books with him at all. ‘Is your dad swamped today?’ she shouted, crouched in front of the fridge as she pulled two bags of dough from the bottom shelf while holding up the containers on top of it.

  ‘Haven’t … haven’t been there yet,’ Bryce shouted back. ‘I should probably get over there, though, and see what’s up, okay? We’ll see you tonight after supper.’

  She heard shuffling and tossed the bags up onto the countertop before rising to her full height. Bryce slung his backpack over his shoulder. ‘Sure. I didn’t mean to make you think you had to leave.’ Hunter was already at the door, clutching his backpack in one hand and the doorknob in the other.

  ‘It’s no problem, Paige.’ Bryce turned to give her a crooked smile, but his feet were still moving him backward, toward the door behind him. ‘Dad and I will see you tonight. Later!’

  Paige barely got the chance to wave goodbye before the two lanky boys were out the door and gone, so fast that the doorbell still tolled faintly long after she couldn’t see them on the sidewalk anymore.

  She walked across the storefront, a tea towel in her hands as she dried her fingers from the cold condensation on the refrigerated plastic bags of dough. There was no sign of the boys as she peered out the window, and she shook her head as she turned back around.

  Adolescent boys are such an awkward species, she thought to herself. She wondered what Hunter must have said to him to make Bryce want to run from the shop without looking back. Maybe they were late for one of their video game things on the computer, or maybe Hunter had to be home for supper. Or maybe—

  Her gaze landed on the table near the door as she passed it, and Paige stopped dead in her tracks. That couldn’t be right. She had been so meticulous with keeping track today. There was just no way.

  But as Paige went about counting the takeout boxes piled near the tray, dread sunk in her stomach like lead. Only fifteen boxes remained in the pile. Two less than when she counted earlier, and there had been no one else in the bakery since then. Not only that, but almost all the butter tarts were gone, and part of the circular arrangement she’d made with the chocolate squares was missing.

  Bryce wouldn’t take items from her store without asking. Would he? She couldn’t even bring herself to use the word steal in the same sentence as his name. It just didn’t
sound right.

  There was no other explanation, though. She had kept tabs on that table’s inventory all day, and it answered the question as to why the two boys had been so eager to race out of there.

  Paige would talk to him. Tonight. Maybe. She groaned to herself. There was no way she could delicately ask him if he knew what happened to the missing baked goods. Maybe she would be better off talking to Cohen. She could ask him what she should say. Maybe Bryce wasn’t really a part of the heist, or he panicked when he realized what his friend was doing.

  She would find out tonight. Get it all sorted out and they could move on. It wasn’t a big deal.

  But suddenly, she wasn’t looking forward to the evening nearly as much as she had been. That realization hurt almost as much as the fact she’d been the victim of theft.

  Chapter 18

  Cohen

  Cohen didn’t care if he ever saw another cupcake as long as he lived. He didn’t know how Paige did it, baking and decorating them to perfection day in and day out. And he didn’t know how Bryce still had an unfailing need to consume every one of them as they packaged them in containers for the fundraiser tomorrow. He might be the only one, but his appreciation for baked goods was dwindling after being surrounded by them for two back to back evenings from the moment he finished supper until the minute he laid his head down on his pillow. He could do without cupcakes for the foreseeable future.

  He did care if he saw Paige, though. His appreciation for her had only grown over the course of their fundraiser preparations. Cohen considered himself a workaholic, but he was certain that Paige’s work ethic and perfectionism rivaled his. She worked efficiently and effortlessly, never missing a beat in their conversation and never slowing down on the tasks she took on.

  Cohen was impressed. He was brimming with respect.

  And he was pretty sure he was in love with her.

  Every time she blushed that faint crimson, every time she offered him a sliver of a smile that said more than words ever could, every time she joked with his son and included him, Cohen fell a little harder and a little faster. He liked that she made him feel like those glances and grins were solely for him, like she’d never looked or smiled at anyone else like that before. Cohen liked that he could affect her in subtle ways, the same way she managed to make his heart beat quicker just by saying his name.

  He could do without the cupcakes, but there was no denying that he wanted to see Paige tonight. And every other night from then on, if he was honest.

  There had been enough said between them, both verbally and in their mannerisms, for him to know she had feelings for him. He also knew Paige was just as cautious as he was. Maybe more. He wondered if putting a label on their relationship would be too much for her. Hell, maybe it was still too much for him.

  But Cohen had spent the past eight years with only his son for companionship. He owed it to himself, and to Bryce, to take a gamble with his heart and set it free. Paige Henley had come in like a silent hurricane and battered down the walls he’d built up around his broken heart. It was Cohen’s turn to try to do the same for her. He was going to tell her the truth. To hell with the fact that it was scary and foreign and overwhelming. He was in love with her. And he needed to leave no room for doubt in her mind. Saying it aloud would be therapeutic for him, too. The proverbial jump off the precipice into the land of the living.

  If this was real – and he knew it was – then he needed to set aside his fears and tell Paige the truth. He would confess how far he had fallen for her.

  Tonight.

  ‘Please tell me that’s the last of them.’

  Both Cohen and Paige turned to Bryce with wide eyes, surprised by the boy’s statement. ‘Well, I never thought I would see the day,’ Cohen quipped, using his oven mitt covered hands to take the last remaining muffin tin from the oven and set it on top. ‘Are you finally sick of seeing cupcakes?’

  Bryce feigned hurt, clutching his hands to his chest and screwing his eyes shut. ‘It pains me to admit it, Dad, but yeah, I guess I am. Not the cupcakes themselves, I’m just running out of ideas for decorations.’ He gestured toward the table full of cakes in front of him, all frosted with a rainbow of colors and candy toppings. ‘I’d still eat them, though.’

  ‘Didn’t see that coming at all.’ Paige stole a knowing glance at Cohen. ‘But, yes, Bryce, that’s the last tray of cupcakes. I promise.’

  ‘Hallelujah!’ Bryce exclaimed.

  ‘I’m not going to lie, I would like to second that hallelujah.’ Paige held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘I’ve never been so happy to see only a few dozen cupcakes left to be frosted.’

  ‘I’m right there with you,’ Cohen added. They were nearing the end, and he knew now that they had bitten off more than they could chew with their fundraising efforts. If there was a next time, he would mention recruiting some help. He knew a few people in town who would be glad to do this kind of thing. ‘Although we’ve done pretty well, if I do say so myself. Three days, three hundred cupcakes, and a silent auction that even I can’t wait to get my bids in on? Yeah, we nailed this, Paige.’ He held up a hand, still covered in an oven mitt, and high-fived her.

  Paige reciprocated, grinning widely. ‘We make a pretty good team.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Cohen replied. He turned to Bryce, hand raised. ‘Right, son?’

  ‘Yeah, Dad.’ Bryce high-fived his dad. When Paige raised her palm to initiate a high-five of her own, Cohen didn’t miss the moment of hesitation in Bryce’s eyes. He gave her a half-hearted clap, but there was a resigned quality to it. It wasn’t the first time tonight that he’d noticed Bryce watching Paige out of the corner of his eye. He looked wary, like he was waiting for her to say something. Do something.

  Cohen wondered if it was his son’s way of trying to make sense of the budding relationship between him and Paige. He couldn’t blame the kid for that. Hell, he was still trying to figure it out himself. He might have come to terms with the fact that he loved the woman and admitted it to himself, but Cohen still didn’t have a damn clue what to do with that information, or how to react to it. Or how Paige would react to it.

  Once he talked to her about it, he made a mental note to talk to Bryce, too. He wanted to keep the lines of communication open, just as they had always been.

  Paige didn’t seem bothered by Bryce’s uncharacteristic antics, if she noticed them at all. She, herself, seemed quieter tonight, though, but Cohen attributed that to the impending fatigue that was blanketing their trio after three late nights and early mornings. Tomorrow was the finish line. All they had to do was get the fundraiser over with, then a well-deserved nap was on the cards for everyone involved.

  A soft whimper sounded in the living room. Cohen followed it to find Jazz prancing near the doorway. It was time to go outside. He knew Jazz enough to know that there was no waiting – when Jazz said go, he moved. Cohen knew who owned who.

  ‘I’d better take her outside.’ He pulled the oven mitts off and set them on the counter.

  ‘Nah, I’ll go,’ Bryce announced, dropping his butter knife, coated in sunshine yellow frosting, with a clatter. ‘We’ll be right back.’

  It was dark outside, and later than Cohen felt completely comfortable letting Bryce wander the streets alone. But he was trying to give the boy some independence, trying to loosen the reins a bit and let him grow. Besides, it was Port Landon. ‘Sure,’ he agreed, against his better judgment. ‘Thanks, buddy.’ Cohen passed him the purple leash and watched as Bryce slipped into his shoes. ‘Don’t take her past the park though, okay? There’s not enough street lighting past the corner. It’s not safe.’

  ‘I know the drill, Dad.’ Bryce attached Jazz’s leash and gave the two adults a parting glance before opening the door and clambering down the stairs with the dog in the lead.

  Cohen listened to his son’s footsteps grow further and further away, then the door at the bottom of the stairs slammed behind him. He turned back to Paige. ‘Okay, what’s next, boss?�
��

  She held up an undecorated cupcake. ‘The same thing we’ve been doing for three days,’ she advised with a chuckle. ‘I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so just keep going.’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ he replied, washing his hands under the tap after handling the leash. ‘I was hoping we could talk while we decorate these godforsaken things.’

  Her eyes met his. Cohen saw a renewed cautiousness in them once again. ‘Me too, actually.’

  Her serious tone caused a ball of dread to form in the pit of Cohen’s stomach. ‘Ladies first, then.’

  ‘No, you go ahead.’

  She sighed when Cohen only quirked a brow and waited patiently. He wasn’t going first, especially not now that he could see the turmoil distorting her pretty face. Something was up, and watching her fidget with the cupcake in her hand was only adding to his unease.

  ‘Okay, I don’t …’ She trailed off, and Cohen was relieved when she sat the cupcake back down. Her constant tinkering with it was going to demolish it. ‘I’m not really sure where to start.’

  ‘How about the beginning?’ Cohen suddenly didn’t know what was going on, but he could feel the tension in the room, so thick it was almost tangible. ‘Take your time, Paige. Just tell me what’s on your mind.’

  ‘You!’ She blurted it out like it was the hardest thing in the world to admit, then laughed uneasily. ‘And Bryce. You two seem to be all I think about nowadays, in some form or another.’

  Her distress would have been comical if Cohen didn’t hear the unspoken but that seemed to follow after it. ‘I can relate to that, more than you know.’ He hoped it would ease her mind. ‘So, now, tell me the part of it that’s worrying you.’ He took a step closer, but Paige took one step back, keeping him at arm’s length.

  ‘I need to talk to you about Bryce.’ It came out in a whoosh.