“I’m counting on you, Herm. You were there for me twenty-two years ago. This is for all the marbles, bud.” He glanced at the moose. “Yeah, think about that for a while. There’s a cabin in the woods in it for you. And if we play our cards right, there might even be a kid or two in your future.”
He left Hermie in the truck to consider the possibilities while he shopped for the items he needed. Then he parked in front of the Dandy Donut, gave the moose one last pep talk, and put him in the bag with the card and the candy.
He hadn’t been in the donut shop since the Christmas holidays, and pushing open the door without plans to meet Tracy, Mila or both felt wrong. If…no,whenTracy realized they were meant for each other, they’d resume their coffee and donut meetings during the week.
And if all wentreallywell, they’d spend every night in each other’s arms. His body tingled with impatience and anticipation. His mom had given him hope. Carrie had given him hope. But Carrie had also said her daughter was scared and he needed to be patient.
It wasn’t his long suit, which was why Luis was the resident horse whisperer and not him. His dad had been a curious combination of drive and forbearance. He’d been able to summon incredible patience with horses, especially wild ones. But humans, not so much.
Grace, the mid-fifties proprietor of the Dandy Donut, greeted him with a smile and glanced at the sparkly red bag with red and white tissue paper poking out the top. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
“Uh, no, I?—”
“Just kidding, Adam, I mean, Mr. Mayor. I’m hoping it’s for Tracy.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve missed seeing you two in here the past few weeks. Wondered if you’d had a spat.”
“I wouldn’t call it a spat.” He was aware that the shop had gone dead quiet as customers at the small tables scattered around the room paused to listen. What did he expect? This was Mustang Valley.
“Whatever it was, looks like you’re trying to make amends and maybe throw in a dozen donuts for good measure. Smart move, since we’re running a Valentine’s Week special. What can I getcha?”
“A dozen would be great. Let’s make it?—”
“Chocolate frosted with sprinkles. That’s her favorite. You could mix it up, but since you’re angling to get back in her good graces, no pun intended, I’d stick with the tried and true.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.”
“Coming up.” As Grace lined a box with parchment paper and filled it with twelve of Tracy’s beloved chocolate with sprinkles, everyone returned to their conversations. She set the box on top of the display case. “Want a couple of coffees to go? That would be a nice touch.”
“No, thanks. I’d like the donuts and this bag delivered to her office, please.” He set it next to the donuts.
“Delivered? You’re not taking ’em yourself?”
Once again the shop went silent.
“I’m not.”
“Then this rift must be worse than I thought if you’re afraid to show your face.”
“I’m not afraid to see her. But a delivery is… better.”
“Not as personal,” called someone from the corner. Sounded like Eli. He didn’t turn around.
“He’s right,” Grace said, “but your call.”
“Delivery, please. I’m happy to pay whatever you charge.”
“To be honest, we don’t actually do deliveries, but we can make it work. Tim’s on break but he’ll be back in about twenty minutes. I’ll have him take your stuff down to her.”
“Thanks. What do I owe you?”
She named a price for the donuts that was twenty percent less than usual because of the special. “And the delivery charge?”
“No charge. I’d like to see you two lovebirds get back together, so it’s on the house.”
He started to protest, or at least deny thelovebirdspart, but arguing with Grace about either would be ungracious. Besides, they were on the same page. “Thanks, Grace. I appreciate it.”
