No matter how long it took. As long as it didn’t take longer than four days.
Chapter 18
“TOOK YOU long enough.” Jean sat in my chair at my desk, eyes closed, arms crossed over her Venture Bros. T-shirt. The uncomfortable position meant she was trying to get a little shuteye without sinking into a deep sleep. I’d seen her do that ever since she took over the graveyard shift.
“I bring a peace offering.” I dropped the white bag with the maple bar on her lap.
Her mouth curved, but she hadn’t opened her eyes. “You brought me donuts as an apology?”
“One, I don’t owe you an apology. Two, that donut’s not from me.”
She cracked one eye open. “I’ll get to one in a second. Talk to me about two.”
“Your boyfriend gave it to me, on the house, with a wink and a smile.”
“My boyfriend?” She frowned, and finally put it together. “Hogan?” she exclaimed delightedly.
“You have some other guy working in some other bakery who likes you? Where else would I be going for pastries? Get out of my chair.”
“I’m not slow, I’m tired.” She dug out the maple bar and stared at it like it was a diamond ring. “Oh.” Her voice wavered. “He remembers.”
“So how long has this been going on between you two?”
“What?”
“Maple bar love-o-grams with hunky Hogan.” I pushed at her until she got out of the chair, and perched on the edge of my desk instead.
“Today.” She stared at the donut with a sort of dreamy sparkle in her eye. “Just. Now.”
I smiled and shook my head. The first, early moments of falling in love were always so sweet. Honest, true. And I knew my sister. When she liked someone she fell fast and all the way, regardless of the consequences.
I just hoped he didn’t break her heart, because he’d have a hard time doing his job after I’d broken both his arms.
“He’s still there now.” I booted up my computer.
“I’ll go by later. When he gets off.”
I pulled up email, clicking on the rally itinerary from Bertie.
I groaned. I would be needed for judging tonight at nine. My stomach, which I’d just gotten settled, roiled at the thought of having to eat rhubarb. Maybe she’d grant me mercy and let me judge non-edible entries.
I committed the list to memory, then moved on to the next email.
Nine o’clock meant I’d have to cancel the dessert with Ryder.
Hell.
“And now we go back to number one,” Jean said. She still hadn’t bitten into the pastry, but was eyeing it fondly, like she wanted to frame it or something.
“Take a picture. Number one who?”
“Number one what,” she corrected. “You do owe me an apology. I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”
She dug out her phone and held it for a selfie, angling the maple bar against her slightly parted lips. She smiled, opened her eyes with feigned innocence, and somehow made the whole thing look dirty.
I wondered if Hogan knew what he was in for.
“I didn’t sleep well. Wanted some strong coffee.”
