Delightful: Big Sky Pie #3 (15 page)

Ice nodded, his eyes darkened, and he shoved his hand across his face. “Anyone I know?”

“Maybe.” Not that it was any of his business. He was leaving. What did he care? “Just think the opposite of you.”

He didn’t seem to like that response. “The contractor?”

“For one.”

“He seems like a nice guy. A bit dull maybe.”

“Well, there’s a realtor I know, and he’s asked me for a drink.”

His lips were pressed together. He nodded, looking away.

“And Callee and Quint know some great guys.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they do. Will these guys be meeting the boys, taking them to the park, playing catch with Logan? Talking sports cars with Luke?”

If she didn’t know better, she’d think he sounded pissed. “I won’t marry any guy who doesn’t also love my boys like his own. That’s one of my priorities.”

“So you’re not looking to fall in love, you’re just looking to find a daddy for those boys?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I wouldn’t want a wife who married me only so I could be a father to her kids.”

“Well, you don’t want a wife so that isn’t likely to happen to you.”

I
ce stood on the deck of his Malibu home, his gaze riveted on the crashing waves, the rhythm matching the pounding of his heart. What was the matter with him? Why couldn’t he feel whatever the hell it was that had Bobby grinning at him like a besotted idiot?

Bobby lifted his glass of icy eggnog and whiskey in a celebratory cheer. “I appreciate the ride to LAX, man.”

“I got nothing better to do today.”

“Do you realize this will be the first Thanksgiving in the past seven or so years that we won’t be together? If you’d told me last summer that you’d be spending this day at your mother’s and that I’d be flying to Kalispell to dine at Chopper Henderson’s house, I would have called bullshit!”

“Me too.” But thanks to that amazing day he’d spent with Andrea and her sons, he’d returned home realizing he needed to make some serious changes. He’d found a therapist, faced his demons, and finally accepted that the only way he would ever be whole again was to try and reconcile with his parents, or at the very least, forgive them. He’d been terrified, but he’d done it.

“So how’d it go with your old man?”

Ice took a drink. “Turns out he’s not the dickhead I thought he was.”

“Yeah, I figured once you understood how many times he’s tried to offer an olive branch that he actually did want a relationship with you.”

“I was too busy pushing him away.” He’d finally told Bobby the events leading up to his parents’ split when he was seven. And even that had made him feel better. Less alone.

“You gonna tell me what went down with your dad?”

“I paid a surprise visit to his office at iMagnus Studios.”

“Holy shit.”

Ice nodded. “I expected his private office would reflect his ruthless personality, but that was only one of the things I’d miscalculated. Everywhere I looked were framed news clippings and articles about me, large and small accomplishments I’ve had over the years. A bookshelf behind his desk had scrapbooks with my name on them. Inside were photos and report cards from the time I started boarding school through graduation. It blew me away.”

“If he missed you that much, why didn’t he just come and get you? Take you home?”

“He thought he was doing the right thing leaving me there, protecting me. He’d been ill-advised by a school counselor, who told both of my parents that I needed stability, that the school environment could offer that better than two feuding parents using me in a game of tug-of-war.”

“I hope they fired the bitch.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Ice closed his eyes, recalling the meeting with his father. His dad, an older version of himself, had tears standing in his blue eyes, and his words rang fresh in Ice’s mind.
“I’ll understand, Ian, if you can’t forgive me. I’ve never forgiven myself for the horrific thing I said to you on your seventh birthday.”

“I take it things worked out?”

“He wants me to spend Christmas with him in Aspen.”

“Are you gonna?”

Ice smiled. “I’m thinking about it.” He’d made Ice a business proposition he was also considering, but that was something he and Bobby could discuss once Ice had made up his mind.

“Wow, then I’d say you’ve got a lot to be thankful for this year, my friend. A whole lot.”

“So do you. How’s BiBi?”

Bobby’s grin filled his eyes. “We’re taking it slow, man. She’s got some great ideas for a couple of reality shows. We’re going to script them out while I’m there. You and I can discuss them next month.”

“Meanwhile, we’d better get you to the airport.”

As Ice drove toward his mother’s in Beverly Hills, toward the first Thanksgiving dinner with his family in twenty-some years, his mind traveled with Bobby to Kalispell. Standing in Andrea’s little kitchen listening to her talk about moving on, he’d realized he couldn’t move at all. Not forward or backward or even sideways. Holding on to the anger and hurt was destroying him, limiting his life to a series of hookups and letdowns. If that was all he faced ahead, he might as well walk into the Pacific.

His mother’s pleading face filled his mind. “Can you, Ian? Can you forgive us?” She was all but strangling a lace handkerchief, her voice shaky. The power to hurt his parents, as they’d hurt him, was in his hands at that moment. All the things he’d wanted to say to them, the anger, the rage, the bone-deep pain of a scared, lonely, unloved little boy burst from the secret place into the light, but like vampires exposed to sunshine, the emotions shriveled and died, no longer monsters but a pile of cold, dead ashes. No longer able to hurt him. And he knew he did forgive them.

But somehow, he still felt dwarfed emotionally. Maybe it would take time. Or maybe he was so damaged he could never completely heal. Maybe he was destined to always be alone. To never find someone as wonderful as Andrea. He hoped she, however, could find the right guy.

He dialed Bobby, hoping to catch him before he boarded his plane. “I, er, if you see Andrea, or hear anything about her…”

“Why don’t you call her yourself, man?”

“Naw, I didn’t leave things exactly…you know?”

“But things have changed since then.”

“Some things. Not everything. I’m still not—”

“You know what, man, you’ve forgiven everyone else, maybe you should forgive yourself.”

“What the hell does that mean? I don’t have anything to forgive myself for. I was seven years old. I didn’t know a picture I took would destroy my family.”

“That’s right. You didn’t. But you blame yourself all the same.”

“No I don’t.” He started to tell Bobby to go screw himself, but the words stuck in his craw. As a memory surfaced, Ice nearly drove into oncoming traffic. He heard his seven-year-old self sobbing into his pillow every night,
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. It’s my fault.”
A light flared through his mind, a flame chasing off the darkness, burning away the shadows, exposing the truth.
Dear God, he did blame himself.
The realization left him reeling.  “But it wasn’t my bad.”

“Exactly. I gotta go. Plane’s boarding. Have a great Thanksgiving, man.”

As Ice drove through the gates to his mother’s mansion, he realized the frozen rock in the very center of his being was melting, dissolved by the blazing heat of self-forgiveness. He felt certain that if he looked in the rearview mirror, he wouldn’t see Ice Erikksen, but the seven-year- old boy he’d been when he left this place. Ian Craig Whittendale had finally come home.

A
ndrea was meeting Wade at Big Sky Pie to go over the plans for Emily’s twelfth birthday bash, and later they were taking her boys and his daughter to a new holiday family film the kids were anxious to see. He and Emily had spent Thanksgiving with her family at her mother’s house, and it had been one of the best they’d celebrated in years.

She wasn’t dating Wade exclusively, but he was easy to talk with, comfortable, fun, and definitely the kind of guy a woman could find a happily ever after with. But she wasn’t anywhere close to that yet.

 As she entered the pie shop through the back door and breathed in the delightful aromas of pumpkin, nutmeg, cinnamon, and apple, she had to smile. Did anything say “holidays” like that combination? Not in her opinion.

Jane and BiBi were in the process of finishing up for the day. Sales had been through the roof the past month, but would taper off over the next week and then gear up again before and during the Christmas season. Andrea greeted her coworkers, stowed her coat and purse, then went for a cup of coffee and readied the café to open. When she returned to the kitchen, they wanted to know how her Thanksgiving was and hear all the latest details of her romance with Wade.

She stood to one side, watching them work, as she started to tell them something cute the kids had done.

“That is some nice freezer,” said a man, strolling in from the hallway to the cold room.

“Bobby?” Andrea’s heart stuttered. What was he doing here?
Had Ice come with him?

“Hey, Andrea,” he said. “I was just admiring the new freezer.”

“It was a gift from an anonymous donor,” Jane said. Her pregnant belly had grown very large in the past few weeks. “Molly suspects Charlie Mercer’s conscience got the better of him, but he adamantly denies that he bought it.”

And Andrea believed him. He’d found a hole in the Freon line. It had definitely been sabotaged, and Charlie had had neither opportunity nor motive. Her money was on the TV crew as the culprits. “I’m sure that it was Ice’s way of making up for the chaos and loss of revenue he caused the day the Health Department shut us down.”

“Nope,” Bobby said. “Ice didn’t buy that freezer. Not through the business or personally. He’d have told me.”

“How is Ice?” Andrea asked, trying to sound offhand, hoping the whole room couldn’t hear the thudding of her heart or the tremor in her voice. See her hands shake.

“He’s better than ever. Really good. He spent Thanksgiving with his mother and is doing Christmas with his dad. He’s started dating a gorgeous starlet. It’s all good. Oh, I almost forgot, he said to tell you ‘hi.’”

Spending the holidays with his parents? Something had definitely changed for Ice, and it sounded as though it was something good. But dating a starlet? She wanted to be happy that Ice was returning to the life he should always have had. So why wasn’t she? Didn’t she want him to heal? To move on? Of course she did.

He’ll be free to fall in love and marry someone in his social realm, a kingdom far removed from mine.

“Then I wonder who did buy that freezer,” Jane said, crimping the edge of a caramel apple pie crust. “The appliance store claims the person who’d purchased it lives somewhere in Flathead County.”

Who else had something to gain by the freezer drama? Andrea wondered. But as she caught a knowing exchange between BiBi and Bobby, it struck her that there was one other person with deep pockets and motive. Chopper Henderson. He’d wanted BiBi to have more air time, and he’d wanted his investment in the pilot to pay off when the show was picked up. She suspected BiBi knew it, too.

Andrea asked, “How long are you in town, Bobby?”

“That depends on BiBi.”

BiBi took a big breath and offered up the wide grin of someone with news to share. “I told Molly and Quint yesterday, so it’s not really a secret anymore. I’m moving to L.A. to work with Bobby.”

Andrea’s mouth dropped open. She knew BiBi and Bobby had stayed in touch, but she hadn’t expected their relationship to escalate this quickly. She remembered Ice’s words of caution.
Bobby is in the rebound phase.
An odd, older sister feeling swept through her, making her wonder if she should intervene or offer some been-there, done-that advice.

“What?” Jane sprinkled her sugary mix across the pies’ top crusts, frowning at BiBi. “Bobby’s hiring you as an assistant pastry chef?”

“No.” BiBi laughed. “We’re forming our own company, developing ideas for pilots. Daddy is going in as a silent partner, buying out Ice’s share of the company.”

“But what about Ice?” Jane asked. “What’s he going to do then?”

Bobby scrubbed at his red beard. “He’s had a better offer from his old man. He’s joining the iMagnus Studios.”

Country music boomed off the walls of the reception hall, the live band playing a mix of popular rock and roll and classic romantic favorites. Dean and Betty Gardener had decided to put off the celebration of their marriage until two weeks after Thanksgiving. They’d changed their theme to red and green, and she was decked out in a red velvet, floor-length gown with a red and green plaid bow in her hair that matched Dean’s vest and bow tie.

They were thrilled to have Big Sky Pie provide pies that ranged from key lime, to crème de menthe to frozen cherry. A prime rib buffet with champagne, beer, and cranberry punch with green ice cubes rounded out the menu.

Andrea, Logan, Lucas, and Delores had come with Wade and Emily and were seated at a round table enjoying the food. Molly had shown up with Charlie Mercer and kept reminding everyone that they were only friends, although it was obvious Charlie hoped for much more. Callee and Quint laughed and chatted with others, but never strayed far from each other, exchanging loving glances, even from across the room. She stopped by the table and whispered to Andrea that Roxy was moving back to Kalispell. She was going to buy a house and open a bistro in town. Callee was thrilled, and Andrea shared her delight. Roxy was a little wild and a whole lot of fun.

Nick Taziano passed by their table as he carried a plate of food to Jane. He’d never seemed happier, his dark eyes sparkling with joy whenever he glanced at his pregnant wife. He settled her into a chair between his father and mother, brought her milk, and rubbed her sore feet. The gazes they shared wrenched at Andrea’s heart, driving home what she longed to have and, she had to admit to herself, she still hadn’t found.

A slow tune began to play, and couples rushed onto the dance floor. Wade held his hand out for her, and Andrea took it. He was a good, if not exciting, dancer, but she felt safe in his arms, like being held by a protective older brother, just not how a lover should feel.

“This was Sarah’s and my song,” Wade whispered in her ear, hardly the thing a woman wanted to hear from a man she was dating. “She really enjoyed wedding celebrations.”

“You loved her a lot, didn’t you?”

The melancholy on his handsome face nearly broke her heart. “I did. I guess I still do.”

“Yeah.” Andrea realized it was a good thing she wasn’t falling in love with Wade. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against Sarah’s ghost. He was as unavailable now as he had been during his marriage and since her loss. “I don’t think you’re ready to let her go yet, Wade.”

He frowned, then the tension lifted from him as though he’d been carrying a heavy burden. “I really like you, Andrea. And the boys. I just, I guess, I’m not ready.”

“I understand.”

“If I can make an honest observation, I don’t think you are either.”

Andrea blanched. “How did you know?”

“What’s that old fifties song? Something about it’s in your kisses.”

That wasn’t quite the title, but point taken. She nodded.

Wade grew serious, his expression tender. “I think you’re hung up on some guy. I don’t know who, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was that Ice Erikksen.”

She wanted to deny it, but her tongue refused to form the words. “He doesn’t want me either.”

“Then he’s a damned fool. And you’re better off without him.”

Mentally, she knew Wade was right. Emotionally, her heart refused to listen. She hadn’t stopped wanting Ice. But he’d walked away and never looked back. Not one phone call or text. Just a message sent through Bobby.

She needed to face it. She couldn’t compete with a starlet. Ice wasn’t going to walk into this reception and sweep her off her feet. And he didn’t.

A week later, Andrea was interviewing potential assistant pastry chefs when who should walk into Big Sky Pie, but Rafael Sanchez. Rafe, a tall, handsome Latino, was the assistant chef who’d run off the day Molly had her heart attack. He’d thought he’d caused her collapse, that he’d killed her. Rafe spoke very little English and had gone into hiding, fearing he’d be sent to jail or back to Mexico.

Andrea had tried to find him and explain, to make sure his fear of being deported wasn’t because he was in the United States illegally. She’d had no luck finding him, but did learn that he had a green card.

She led him into the kitchen. “Molly, look who’s shown up.”

“Oh, Rafe, I am so glad to see you.”

Rafe said something in Spanish that sounded like he was even gladder to see Molly.

Andrea said, “He’s here about the assistant pastry chef position. What do you think?”

Molly pinned Rafe with her bright eyes. “If I give you a second chance, you won’t run off on me again, will you?”

“No, señora.”

“And you’ll give us your actual phone number and address?” Andrea added.

“Sí, señora.”

Molly considered, then nodded. “The job’s yours, Rafe. When can you start?”

“Now be good,
señora?
”

 “
Sí
,” Molly said.

Andrea went back to the café. She had other interviewees scheduled, and although the assistant job had been filled, they would soon need a temporary chef while Jane was on maternity leave. At the end of the day, she was worn out. She wanted nothing more than to order a pizza and take a hot bath and hug her little sons. Her mom texted that she’d meet her at the apartment with the boys. Andrea had just walked into Moose’s to order the pizza when her phone rang. It was Molly.

“Andrea dear, I hate to ask this, but I’ve just had a call from someone wanting to book an event. He’s coming in right at closing. Could you possibly come back and handle this? If not, I’ll find Callee to—”

“No, that’s okay. I’m right across the street.”

“Great. Thank you, dear.”

Her worries this past autumn about the pie shop’s future seemed a hundred years ago. Business was booming. This booking would be the last they could squeeze in before the New Year. Nothing like job security to boost a girl’s spirits. So why were her Durangos dragging as she let herself in the back door of Big Sky Pie?

She knew why. She’d done something today she wasn’t proud of. She’d gone on-line to the website that Rita Grace wrote for and hunted for tidbits about Ice. She’d found what she’d been after. He
was
dating a starlet—a gorgeous brunette who was starring in iMagnus’s next action picture. She’d closed the browser, fighting tears, knowing that, once again, she’d fallen in love with a man who was wrong for her in every way. When would she ever learn?

The bell over the café door announced the arrival of the customer she’d been expecting. She checked her appearance in the mirror, applied some lip gloss, and hurried to greet him. Her bad-boy antenna began to buzz. He was seated in the shadows near the bay windows.

She braced herself and collected a menu. “Welcome to Big Sky Pie. May I get you something to drink?”

“Depends,” he said in a drawl that rivaled Sam Elliott’s gravelly voice and turned her knees to mush. Ice. He wore a white dress shirt beneath a leather jacket, torn jeans, and his Harley boots, as casual as a
GQ
ad, as sexy as a man could get. Her heart began to thud. He lifted his face, mirrored aviators hiding his eyes. “What are you offering?”

Tingles rocked through Andrea, and she almost responded, “My body,” but then she remembered the brunette starlet and the words dissolved on her tongue. “We have milk, coffee, espresso, tea, and water.”

“Espresso.” He rattled off his favorite concoction.

“Venti, I suppose?”

“Sure.”

Andrea laughed. “This isn’t Starbucks. Our espresso is the basic brew.”

“Then basic it is.” Although the lighting was dim, she couldn’t look away from his handsome face, his sexy mouth, couldn’t help noticing that a new air of confidence had replaced his cockiness. This was not the wounded warrior she’d last seen.

He pulled off the aviators, exposing those intense blue eyes, and as his gaze swept over her, she swallowed hard. Memories slammed into her: Ice naked, Ice making love to her, Ice whispering sweet nothings. Her stomach dipped.
He’s in love with someone else.
She turned to get his drink, but he stopped her. “Andrea?”

“Yes?” She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She stared at the espresso machine, its red light a familiar touchstone, something to keep her from sliding off the edge into unknown territory.

“What is that delightful scent?” Ice asked.

Her heart began to stumble in her chest. “It’s the special of the—”

“I didn’t come all this way for a piece of pie.”

“Or to book an event?”
Like your wedding to the starlet?

“Not that either.”

She turned then, fighting the anger at being dragged back to work on false pretenses, even if it was for this man she loved and longed to see again. “What are you doing here, Ice?”

He seemed to lose a touch of his confidence, as though he wasn’t sure how to tell her.
He wants to tell me he’s getting married.
Oh God, no. She didn’t want to hear it. It would be less cruel to read about it on the Internet than to have him say those words to her.

He cleared his throat. “I came to claim something that’s mine, unless I’m too late.”

What did that mean? She was afraid to ask. Afraid the answer would be something she didn’t want to hear. She poured a cup of espresso and brought it to his table. He reached for her wrist. She pulled away before he could grab it, went to the refrigerated display case, and placed a slice of pie on a dish, even though he’d said he wasn’t here for pie. She kept chattering about the weather, about Jane and the baby coming soon, about Lucas getting his cast removed, about nothing. She served a scoop of ice cream atop the pie and brought it to him.