The Forget-Me-Not Bakery Read online

  ‘Sonya, are you giving this poor lady a hard time?’

  The voice brought Paige back around to see who it was. It was unfamiliar and deep, the voice of a man.

  Sonya had turned around at the front counter, and judging by both her and Allison’s easy smiles, they recognized the owner of that voice.

  He was tall, standing over by the table of treat trays, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the large coffeepot Allison had brought over from her shop that morning. The steam billowed up from the paper cup in his hands, and his hazel eyes shone with amusement.

  ‘You got one thing right, Dr Cohen. The lady’s definitely going to be poor if she doesn’t start letting us folks pay for the stuff in her shop.’ Anyone else might have sounded crass, but Sonya’s tone was anything but. She was blunt and to the point, but there was heart behind her words, not malice. ‘Speaking of that, you’d better come up here and see what you can find to buy that sweet boy of yours, yeah?’

  ‘Don’t you worry, I’ve been given my orders,’ he assured her, placing a plastic top on the cup before making his way to the front counter. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met, yet. I’m Cohen.’

  A glass display case stood between them and he jutted his hand out over it. His smile was the first thing Paige noticed about him, genuine. His eyes gleamed with just as much sincerity, and a gentle kindness seemed to emanate off him in waves. He wore dark stonewash jeans and comfortable looking loafers, but the ensemble was paired with a solid green scrub top that made the flecks of gold in his eyes shine all the more brightly.

  ‘Hi,’ Paige greeted him, shifting the box into one hand to shake his with the other. ‘I’m Paige.’ She could hear a sudden shyness tainting her own voice. ‘Paige Henley.’ She couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away.

  Cohen gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze meeting hers and holding it for what could have been a minute but was probably only seconds. ‘This town’s been talking nonstop about you and your bakery, Paige. It’s good to finally put a face and a name to all the chatter.’

  ‘The novelty will wear off, I’m sure.’ She had been living in Port Landon for the past three months, but for the first time, Paige idly wondered just what exactly the gossip was that Cohen had heard.

  ‘As quickly as the sugar fix?’ Cohen arched an eyebrow, a crooked grin dancing on his face.

  ‘Well, hopefully not quite that fast.’ She laughed.

  The sound of a throat being cleared made both Paige and Cohen turn at the same time. Allison and Sonya stood there, their lips pursed, unable to hide their mischievous intrigue. It was too alight in their eyes to go unnoticed.

  ‘Find something you like?’ Allison asked, crossing her arms.

  Paige didn’t know if she was addressing Cohen or herself, but she quickly realized it didn’t matter. What did matter was that she and Cohen were still standing there, her small hand enveloped in his.

  She pulled her hand from his as easily as she could. ‘Right.’ She glanced down as she smoothed her apron out, giving herself a moment to compose herself and stamp down her embarrassment. ‘Anything I can get you, Cohen?’

  ‘That’s Dr Cohen,’ Sonya interjected, still rooted in place, watching their exchange with distinct interest.

  Paige shot her a pleading glance, silently begging the woman to stop making this worse, but quickly tried to cover it up. ‘Sorry, Dr Co—’

  Cohen chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No, just Cohen is fine,’ he insisted. He glanced over at Sonya. ‘I see what you’re doing Sonya, and you can put the brakes on anytime.’

  ‘I could.’ She shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. ‘But you know I won’t, sweetheart.’

  Paige wasn’t sure whose expression was more amused, the older woman’s or Cohen’s, but whatever passed between them was a silent, mutual understanding. They had history, those two. Cohen turned back to Paige, unfazed. ‘As I was saying,’ he began again. ‘I got a specific request from my son this morning for something that’s double fudge, and I promised I would come and see if I could make good on that request before he got home from school. Unfortunately, I got behind in my appointments and it took longer to get here than planned. Am I too late?’

  ‘I’ve got just the thing, Just Cohen.’ She flashed him an excited smile, relieved that she did, in fact, have something that would fit the bill. She ducked down, intent on seeking out the cake she had in mind. Paige didn’t even realize she was still holding the box – Sonya’s box – in her hand until she was about to set it down and retrieve another one for Cohen.

  Immediately, Paige stood up, her eyes wide as she came face to face with the older woman. ‘I’m sorry, Sonya. I didn’t finish getting everything for you! I’ll be right back.’ She whirled around, sending an apologetic glance at Cohen for making him wait as well, then scurried into the kitchen to add a slice of the chocolate peanut butter pie she’d made to have as her own dessert tonight, mortified at forgetting what she’d been doing the moment Cohen had entered the shop.

  What in the world had come over her?

  She knew all too well that Allison wasn’t going to let her live that one down. And if her first impression of Sonya was anything to go by, she wouldn’t, either.

  Paige put on a brave face after slipping the piece of pie into the box and made her way back out to the counter. ‘An assortment of cupcakes and a slice of gourmet chocolate peanut butter pie,’ she announced, sliding the box across to Sonya. ‘You’ll have to let me know what you think.’

  Sonya didn’t bother to open the box and inspect the choices Paige had chosen. Pushing the ten-dollar bill closer to her, Sonya tucked the box under her arm. ‘Trust me, Paige, I always let people know what I think.’ She cast a fleeting glance from Cohen to Paige and back again, then winked. ‘It was good to meet you, sweetheart.’ She turned to leave, but not before adding, ‘Have a good day, Dr Cohen,’ as she closed the door behind her.

  The void of Sonya’s absence was felt the moment she left, but her words hung in the air like a thick veil. Allison had advised Paige on more than one occasion that the woman was a force to be reckoned with, but her spitfire personality was even more fiery than she’d expected.

  ‘Now, about that order for double fudge anything …’ Paige turned back to Cohen, unable to look Allison in the eye just yet, and went about cutting an enormous slice of chocolate Oreo cake with chocolate fudge icing and double chocolate fudge drizzle on top, carefully boxing it up. She added in a pair of mocha chocolate cupcakes for good measure. ‘If that doesn’t fit the bill for your son, I don’t know what will.’

  ‘It looks like he’s going to be swinging from the rafters till midnight once the sugar in that hits his bloodstream.’

  He was smiling, but Paige immediately wondered if he thought it was too much. ‘I guess the doctor in you would be worried about the effects of all the refined sugar.’

  ‘Nah, it’s the dad in me that’s worried about that,’ he chuckled. ‘Besides, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m a veterinarian. Believe me, I understand the need for a good sugar fix every now and then. What do I owe you, Paige?’

  Allison stepped back, gesturing for her to take her place at the cash register. Paige punched a few buttons, ignoring the smug grin on her cousin’s face. When the amount came up on the screen, Cohen arched a brow. ‘That can’t be enough.’

  ‘It’s just for the cake,’ she advised happily. ‘The cupcakes are on the house.’

  He pulled his wallet out and held out a twenty-dollar bill. ‘Thanks, Paige. Looks like I owe you one.’

  Paige counted out his change and handed it to him. ‘You owe me nothing. I’m just glad I could fulfill the request of a boy with dreams of chocolate fudge.’

  ‘One forkful of that chocolatey masterpiece and I’ll bet you’ll be seeing my son and me in here a lot more.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it, Cohen.’

  He shoved his wallet back into his jeans pocket, his eyes gleaming when they met hers once more. ‘Me
too,’ he assured her. ‘But I’d better get back to Jazz. She’s probably scaling the walls looking for me. It was nice to meet you, Paige. Have a good day, you two.’ He offered a slight nod toward Allison, and then they both watched as he made his way out of the shop, the bell above the door tolling lightly to announce his exit.

  With the shop empty for the first time since the doors opened that morning, Paige turned to her cousin, who was still grinning. ‘What?’ Paige asked, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly what her cousin was thinking. They had been best friends too long not to know. ‘You’re looking at me like something big just happened.’

  ‘Something big did just happen,’ Allison exclaimed. ‘You, Paige Henley, just met Port Landon’s most eligible bachelor.’

  Chapter 2

  Cohen

  ‘You’re right. They almost do look too good to eat.’ Cohen carefully closed the box of cakes and placed it on the table in the lunchroom. ‘You’d better head over there now if you want half a chance at anything being left. She’s going to sell out by the end of the day, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Really?’ Rhonda, the technician at his veterinary clinic, pointed toward the waiting room. ‘But what about the next appointment?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about Mr Rutherford and Max,’ he insisted. ‘It’s a quick appointment for vaccines and itchy ears. I can handle it. You go on and check out the bakery, or else you’ll be stealing Bryce’s chocolate fudge cake before he gets here, getting us both in trouble.’

  ‘I’m not sure either of us could handle that kind of wrath.’ Rhonda plucked her leather purse from the lunchroom table and headed for the front door of the clinic.

  Cohen chuckled to himself. There wasn’t a person in Port Landon brave enough to come between a strong-willed boy like Bryce and his love of chocolate fudge. He was only ten, but there were times when Cohen forgot he was still so young. He acted older, and he was terribly smart. Cohen often wondered if it was his genetics that made him so mature for his age, or the enormity of what he’d been through in his short life thus far.

  He shook his head, brushed some dog hair from the hem of his scrub top – left there by Coby, the Andersons’ always-shedding Labrador retriever, during an earlier appointment – and met his next patient in the waiting room. ‘Mr Rutherford, hello. How about we bring Max into the exam room and see what’s going on with those ears, shall we?’

  Max was a five-year-old cocker spaniel with a robust love of life. He also had a love of water, getting into any puddle, stream, or lake he could find. Mr Rutherford’s neighbor, who owned the biggest inground pool in Port Landon, didn’t much appreciate Max’s love of water, or the fact that Mr Rutherford let Max run loose in the yard every now and then. Or in his yard, based on the gossip that permeated the clinic walls daily. The dog had been caught paddling around in the pool more than a few times.

  However, Max’s love of water was hard on his ears and he’d developed a couple of infections over the years because of it.

  One look and Cohen knew he’d better send the dog home with a course of antibiotics and a follow-up appointment in ten days. Max squirmed the entire time, but Cohen managed to get his ears cleaned as best he could, then he applied a few drops of a topical antibiotic into each ear, much to the dog’s dismay. Max shook his head, letting his floppy ears flap dramatically, but his tail still wagged wildly. The dog had been there many times before; he knew the drill. And sure enough, after directions to apply the drops twice a day and try to keep the ears as clean and dry as possible, Cohen reached into the glass treat jar on the edge of the countertop and offered Max the beef liver treat he’d been waiting for since the moment he arrived.

  ‘I’ll see you in ten days,’ Cohen advised Mr Rutherford with a smile. He crouched down and patted the dog on the head affectionately. ‘And I’ll see you, too, Max. Heal those ears up and be good, for heaven’s sake.’

  He made sure Alice, the receptionist, was helping the elderly man to settle his bill at the front desk, then made his way back toward the pharmacy room, intent on typing his shorthand notes into the computer system. But as Cohen rounded the corner, he barely registered hearing the back door of the clinic swing open before he was hit by a sprinting Bryce.

  ‘Oomph!’ Bryce made an incomprehensible sound before reeling back to stare up at his father with wide, excited eyes. ‘Dad! Did you make it to the bakery yet? Josh says his mom went to get him some apple pie, but they were sold out!’

  ‘It’s good to see you, too, Bryce.’ Cohen chuckled. ‘Glad you’re so happy to see me.’ He held the boy out at arm’s length, checking him over, as he did almost every day. A familiar sensation washed over him daily around this time, just as Bryce made his way home from the public school, located two streets over. It was relief. Relief that his son was home, safe and sound. Relief that he could see him again, like laying eyes on him equated to knowing everything was okay.

  ‘I am happy to see you,’ his son replied, beaming. ‘I’m just happy to see chocolate cake more!’ Bryce cast a glance through the doorway into the lunchroom, eyed the takeout box, and dove for it.

  Cohen leaped forward in a half-hearted attempt to stop him from reaching the box. He managed to get a hold of Bryce’s T-shirt near his shoulder and pull him back against him just inside the lunchroom doorway, holding the boy against his chest with one hand and picking up the box of cakes with the other. He held it away from him, causing laughter and cries of feigned desperation to erupt from his mouth.

  ‘Dad, that’s mine! You bought it for me, remember?’

  ‘One more false move and Jazz gets it!’

  As if on cue, Jazz wandered in, her docked tail wagging excitedly at the sight of Bryce, her eyes squinted from the big smile on her face.

  ‘You wouldn’t give the cake to Jazz,’ Bryce hollered, arms outstretched and flailing wildly in hopes of snatching the box from his hand. ‘You can’t give chocolate to dogs. What kind of veterinarian are you?’ The boy laughed as Cohen expertly placed a foot behind his own, purposely causing him to trip backwards as his father lowered him to the floor.

  Jazz was on him in seconds, attempting to lick his face and communicate her happiness at seeing him despite Bryce’s attempts to crawl away from her.

  ‘See, even Jazz thinks you don’t need cake,’ Cohen laughed, his heart swelling at the sight.

  ‘Well, Jazz would be wrong, Dad!’

  Hearing her name from Bryce’s lips again only heightened the brindle boxer’s excitement, and she bounced happily on her front paws as though playing some sort of game. One that only she knew the rules of, and if there were rules, they were likely: Rule #1 – Jazz wins. And what was the name of the game? Jazz Wins.

  And Jazz was definitely winning.

  ‘Okay, okay, I give up!’ Bryce cried out, laughing so hard tears glistened at the corners of his eyes. ‘Get the attack dog off me, Dad!’

  ‘All right, Jazz,’ Cohen chuckled. ‘Come on back, girl. Let him at least stand and fight for the cake he loves.’

  Jazz had traipsed into the lives of those who worked at Beckett Veterinary Hospital last year. Surrendered by her elderly owner due to unforeseen health reasons, the plan had been to place her into a rescue group for foster placement until a new forever home could be found.

  A year later, Jazz still called the clinic her home, and she owned the clinic employees and anyone else who scuttled through the door. Someday, someone special would come along and fall for Jazz the way everyone who worked there had, Cohen and Bryce included. It was inevitable when she was such a companionable, loving animal without an angry bone in her body. She rarely barked, was trained to ring one of the bells hanging from each door of the clinic when she wanted to go outside, and she adored absolutely everyone she met. But, so far, no one had come forward.

  No one but Cohen, Bryce, and the team who worked there, as a collective whole. Jazz was just as much a part of the Beckett Veterinary Hospital family as the employees. No one was rushing out to try to fi
nd her another place to live.

  Most veterinary clinics had a clinic cat, because cats were more independent and simplistic to own. In theory, anyway. But they had a clinic dog, and she fit in perfectly.

  Bryce stumbled to his feet once Jazz relented, and he immediately jutted his hands out. ‘Dad, please! Let me see the cake. Please!’

  Cohen held it further away. ‘You can’t have it until after supper, though. You know the drill.’

  ‘I didn’t say I was going to eat it, I said I was going to look at it!’

  ‘Why put yourself through the misery?’ Cohen pursed his lips, thoroughly enjoying himself.

  ‘Because I need to make an educated opinion about the new bakery, and that opinion starts with the presentation of the cake!’ Bryce wiggled his fingers for the cake to be passed to him.

  Inwardly, Cohen groaned. When did his sandy-haired, green-eyed, ten-year-old son grow up so much that he needed to form ‘educated opinions’ about the artistic presentation of cake? It was just one more moment in a long list of them when he realized that his boy wasn’t a baby anymore.

  Mostly because he was anticipating seeing Bryce’s face when he caught his first glimpse of the cake Paige had boxed up for him, Cohen gave up, passing the box to his son. ‘It was all I could do not to try a bite,’ he admitted. ‘Rhonda’s over there now. Once she saw your cake and cupcakes, she couldn’t help herself.’

  ‘Whoa …’ The animated look on Bryce’s face as he opened the box and revealed the fudge-drizzled cake slice was worth ten times the price Cohen had paid for it. His eyes grew so round, his mouth dropped open – his father’s chest tightened a little.