Authors: Melissa Whittle
Tags: #aa romance, #series, #small town, #ptsd, #grief, #bakery, #coffee shop, #Alpha Hero Romance, #business partners, #Melissa Blue, #contemporary romance, #multicultural romance
“I hung up too soon,” Emma argued. “But, I’m hanging up is considered a good-bye and not rude. And why are you just now calling back?”
“I did hit you back. I got a busy signal.”
“Oh.”
“So?”
“Same status.” Her lined beeped. “I—”
“Ya gotta go. Bye,” Abigail sounded frustrated before hanging up.
Emma frowned at the phone and answered with her usual greeting.
“What day out of the week do you close early?” Tobias said without preamble.
“Fridays and that’s two days from now, I believe…or I could be wrong. Do you know?”
“Tomorrow then?”
She bit her lip for a moment because the next day wasn’t Friday. “I can’t think of a question to answer that with. So you win this round. Over.”
“Out.”
She hung up on his chuckle and his reason for ending the earlier conversation. She mentally added competitive streak to his list of faults, but she couldn’t help but smile.
*****
The wonderful thing about being your own boss was you could create your own Casual Fridays. During most of the work week, Emma did her best to spruce up. Monday through Thursday were designated appointment days. Someone really special could get an appointment on Saturday, a day she reserved strictly for prepping the week ahead once business hours ended, but Fridays were hers.
She closed down the bakery with a light step. The day spread out before her unfettered by responsibility. It felt like a gift after the long week. This Friday she’d take her time getting ready for the date. That light feeling stayed with her until she pulled up to her drive, next to Sasha’s car.
She found her friend in the kitchen. The granite counter tops gleamed, along with the stainless steel stove. The tile floors shone in the fading afternoon light. You could eat off every surface. The large, family-sized table had been set with two plates and Sasha was already halfway through her food. She noted the subtle rearrangement of furniture.
“Uh-oh,” Emma said. “What happened?”
“My period’s late.” Sasha shoved more food into her mouth and refused to look up.
“How?” No one was more conscientious about birth control than Sash. Hell, freshman year she was the one everyone went to for condoms. It got to the point she just sat a bowl of protection outside her door. “Never mind. Stupid question.”
“I don’t know anyway. The mechanics of how are obvious, but we were covered.”
Emma slid into the chair with the other place setting and began to eat the meal her friend had cooked. The steak and homemade mash potatoes were smothered in gravy.
A plate of biscuits sat between them, and Emma took one trying to find what to say next. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure my period’s late. I’m not sure of the reason.”
That relieved Emma for a moment. “It could be stress.”
“My life isn’t stressful.”
“Well, you could be stressed that you’re late and that text message guy is the father. That’ll cause any woman’s flow to stem.” She paused. “Why don’t you just buy one of those home kits?”
“Because then I’ll know for sure. Unaware of the possibilities is so much better.”
This was way over her head. The last time they’d went through this she hadn’t exactly been a rock. “We need to call Abigail.”
“No,” Sasha said with a vehement tone. “I can’t. She’ll make me take one. She won’t even ask. Once you tell her I’ve cleaned and rearranged the furniture, she’ll come in like the cavalry.”
And that made her think Sasha was right, earlier, about them being each others’ crutch. The idea was insane and a little insulting. How could a friendship stunt your growth? You learned how to put aside preconceptions, hang-ups and learned how to let things go. That was the natural order of being close friends with someone. Then again it was Abigail. She showed her support by getting things done. Abigail was the rock and sometimes that’s not what you needed.
Hell
. “She’s going to be hurt.”
Sasha stabbed what was left of her steak. “She’s not the one I’m worried about right now. What if I am?”
Emma held tight to the fork. “What if you are?”
Sasha threw down the utensil and rubbed her hands over her face. Emma put down her fork, because she couldn’t calmly eat with her friend like this. She rounded the table to sit next to Sasha and placed an arm around the delicate shoulders.
Her friend leaned into the offered embrace. “I’ll keep it, but my whole life would change. It’s not like I couldn’t afford to have it. I could. I’ve got savings.”
“I’ll be a godmother who actually babysits.”
Sasha chuckled. “Thanks. Is it immature to not want to know for sure?”
“Yeah, but that’s a big question. Not everyone can take the answer right away. Some things take courage. You don’t have it yet. Now if you still want to act unaware nine months from now that might be a problem. But, until you know, no drinking.”
“I’m not giving up coffee.”
“That’s fine. It’ll be
your
tweaker baby.”
Sasha snorted. “How does that comfort me?”
“It doesn’t.”
Sasha sighed. “Thank you. Wait.” She lifted her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a date?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to have to cancel.”
“Why?”
Emma looked at her friend as if the answer was obvious. “This is a crisis.”
“It’s only a crisis if I’m in tears.” Sasha pointed to her face. “See, no tears. Go get ready for Dark and Dangerous.”
“But—”
Sasha placed a hand on Emma’s. “I’ll do your hair.”
Emma considered her friend. There were lines of worry creasing the skin around her eyes, but there weren’t any tears or even the sheen of some on the horizon. At the moment, it was only a worry. “I’m giving you a week and then I’m buying the test myself and coming in like the cavalry.”
“Most doctors say it’s best to come after six weeks before you start prenatal.”
Emma tilted her head. “You’ve been doing research?”
“A little,” Sasha admitted. “I looked up symptoms. Saw pictures. I was curious,” she added the last quickly.
The reality finally dawned on Emma and it made her feel breathless. “You want to be.”
“I didn’t know how much I wanted a family of my own until the idea got stuck and I could see it. It’s my damn family’s fault. They are all married off with kids. It’s a disease with them.”
To lighten the mood, Emma said, “So does that mean the reign of dating losers is over?”
“God, yes.” Sasha hugged her. “Go shower so you can get ready for your date.”
“My date.” Weight rang in the words that hadn’t existed before. “I’m thinking I made a mistake about putting him in friend with possible benefits category. Can you back track on the second date?”
“You can do anything you want if the situation allows.”
Emma thought of all the things she couldn’t do and say now that this date would be a real one, her shoulders slumped. They had so much fun last time; she could still be that way but polished.
There wasn’t a need to break out all the skeletons. They could stay stuffed in that deep, dark closet, especially now with Sasha thinking she was pregnant. Her hand started to go for her stomach, but she balled her fist. Skeletons went into the closet for a reason.
“I’ll do your hair and make-up, but first I’m going to finish your plate.” Sasha’s face had softened. She’d seen the action. That was the problem with skeletons, they always wanted out.
“Twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” Emma said.
Once upstairs, she cracked open the bathroom window to make sure the steam had a better escape. The air outside had turned crisp and it was the first sign the season was about to change.
Chapter Eleven
Tobias did his best to catch up with Emmaline, because the steep climb up the hill gave him a great view of her ass. Staring and drooling over it was not how he wanted this date to go. Something had already gone horribly wrong between the setting of the date and when he picked her up at home. It was as if someone had given him a replica in her stead and it lacked all the charm, passion and recklessness of the real woman.
For someone who appeared so unencumbered, she had more armored walls than Fort Knox. What or who resided behind that wall? What hurt or secret did she do her best to protect? He wouldn’t get that out of this woman. Another hour of her like this and Tobias would be ready to bail, but he knew this wasn’t Emmaline. A woman who’d run down the street naked to make a friend happy.
She glanced over her shoulder with another one of those pleasant smiles that reeked of a Stepford wife.
Jesus
. He’d have to forgo all finesse to get Emmaline back. He shifted the ice chest in his hand. The motion slowed him down and put her ass in his peripheral vision. Tobias forgot what he planned to do. He lost ability to move when she beat him to the shaded tree and knelt down to straighten the cover.
He forced his gaze to the view of the city. The cathedral top of the main building at the college could be seen from the hill. The top stored a bell tower that chimed at every hour. Oak trees hid the rest of the campus behind wide branches. From his house Tobias could see the east view of the college. From this one, the west, the college was just as appealing.
“It’s the perfect spot for a picnic,” she said, but her tone sounded brittle.
Her shoulders bunched around her ears, and he wondered if she honestly didn’t feel the pressure of holding herself in.
“I knew a friend who knew a friend who could put screws to a guy to let us come up here.” He’d wanted to impress Emmaline so he’d asked for some favors because this place wasn’t usually open to the public. Probably helped that he’d put on his cop face when he asked.
Emma
placed her hands on her hips and the denim stretched over lush curves. Three buttons were undone on the white tee shirt. The only sign that he’d picked up the authentic Emmaline. He wished like hell she’d say something real, something with depth because he ached for that reckless, bleeding heart that would call him Third Button in a dry tone. A yearning strummed through him to hear her say Tobias Graham.
He sighed. With the Gothic-styled house at their back, the gardens blooming in the fading daylight, it was a perfect spot. He sat down on the cover as the sun began to make the slow trek west.
“Tell me about your week.” He took out the sandwiches and drinks as she spoke.
“Well, I looked forward to our morning trade-offs. That was a plus. I had two more emergency appointments for cakes.” She nodded thanks after taking the sandwich and drink.
“Neither are a wedding, but that’s fine. The Whitmen affair is going to take up a lot of my time. And Abigail brought over the advertisement plan she put together for me in conjunction with yours. Speaking of which, I need you to come by to taste-test a few of the recipes I wanted to send to your other store. The pastries have to be able to keep for a few days and still taste delicious.”
She smiled at him so light and carefree, and for the first time the smile was genuine. What the hell he was doing with her? Tobias wasn’t light or carefree. He was in every way her anti-thesis.
He shook his head in disgust. Still, he didn’t have the sense to leave her alone. Yeah, they could keep going on with this fringe of a connection and not challenge each other. Pleasant and polite interactions…he wanted to stick a fork in his eye at the thought. The only solid selling point of staying on the fringe was that he’d never have to crack open the dark recesses of himself and watch them wash over her.
On that front, he’d been right to want nothing to do with her. He had no business tainting her world. Yet, he lived without the light for much too long. It had been gone again for two days and already he missed the banter, the fire that lit behind her golden eyes and the bite back when he crossed a boundary.
He glanced at her taking dainty bites of the sandwich. In the same amount of time, three days before, she’d scarfed down a plate of roast beef while she eyed the rest. The sticking point was he spent those days wanting Emmaline. This wasn’t his Emmaline.
Maybe Tobias could have let it go if he thought she wasn’t interested in him. The damndest thing, she was more interested in him than before. The extended gazes, the unconscious touching and leaning into him without thought proved it, but her personality was off. He’d asked Emmaline out for a date, not Emma. He would get a date with the former even if he had to piss her off.
“What do you see, Emmaline, when you look down there?” He motioned to the city.
She frowned at the question, but took in the landscape below them. “The college looks more like a church. One of those Italian ones that’s been there for ages. The ivy is beautiful, and I have no idea why they want to get rid of it. The way it falls over the sides of the building…well, it won’t be the same once it’s gone.” She pointed down. “I can see your house. Can’t make out my street from here, but I know it’s there. It doesn’t matter though because when I look at all of it, I can see home.”
“The ivy erodes the brick,” he murmured absently.
The sandwich turned to sawdust in his mouth. Close, but still not there. She sat with her back ramrod straight. About to get his hands dirty, Tobias put the sandwich down on the napkin and wiped his hands together to get rid of the crumbs from the freshly baked bread.
“What do you see when you look at me?”
She turned her gaze on him, a Stepford smile on her face. “A man who is stoic, solid and dead serious. There’s humor there buried under all that. A man who is also consistent and thinks fair is the best he can give.”
The description surprised him. “I’m not sure if you know who you are.”
She shifted to face him completely. “I know who I am.” She lifted her hands. “I am who I appear to be.”
He scoffed. “Ok. I’ll take that back. You know who you are with your friends, but they’re not the world.”
“Wow.” Irritation loosened her posture. “How high-handed and wrong of you.”
“So, you’re telling me what I see, a woman loyal to her friends and who loves to bake, is all there is to you?”