“I think that maybe you’re right. We should take it slow and see how things go. I’m probably not ready to get involved anyway, and who knows what the future holds—”
“My head says you’re right. That we’d be smart to back off and just be friends and focus on healing—me physically, you emotionally. But my heart says, ‘Go for it.’ You need to know, I don’t usually listen to my heart and I’m starting to wonder if I should give it a chance. I like you. I feel at home with you.”
“I know, and I feel we might have something special, but sometimes the timing is wrong. Sometimes we can’t escape the past.”
“What hope is there if we can’t escape the past? Chloe, I want to try.”
“Then start with Frank. Do you know what Janice said to me Friday night? She said you don’t know the whole story. She wanted me to speak well of Frank to you.” She swirled her wine and sipped. “You can’t escape the past as long as you’re mad at him. Can’t really escape your bad boy ways because they’re rooted in your anger at Frank. Maybe even your mom. I can’t really go on in a relationship until I’m convinced the next man I marry won’t die a young and untimely death.”
“Your mom told me tonight how proud Frank is of me and not just because of football.”
“Wouldn’t it make everything easier if you stopped holding the divorce against Frank? I’ve been married and trust me, it takes two. Jean-Marc and I had a horrible fight before he went on the trip that killed him. And I can’t take it back. I can’t fix it. Now his parents are texting me, wanting to talk. About what?”
“You’ve not responded to them?” He lifted a brow and she laughed at the irony.
“Okay, I’ll respond if you respond to your dad. There’s stuff he’s not told you. Even if it was all his fault, isn’t it time to let it go? What’s it gained you to be so cold toward him?” Was that a sheen of emotion in Sam’s eyes?
“You might be right, but if I have to let go of the idea the divorce was all Frank’s fault, you have to give up the notion that all the men you love die.”
“Ha, that’s a tough one. I have pretty convincing proof.”
Sam took her cup from her and pulled her into his warm embrace. “Chloe, your dad died in an accident. Jean-Marc died in an accident. I don’t know why, but I bet you’ve reached your quota. Besides, I’m too dang arrogant to die. I spit in death’s eye.” He said the last line in a pirate voice.
She laughed, but quieted again. “You’re still my boss. I don’t want to lose my job. I love Haven’s. I also don’t want to lose you as my friend.”
“All right, we’ll make a deal. If the romance doesn’t last, then we’ll work on being friends again. You stay on at the bakery and I’ll let Rick handle things until, you know, the friendship kicks back in.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that.” He hooked his finger under her chin and drew her face closer to his, searched her eyes, then slowly touched his lips to hers.
She shivered as the warmth of his kisses permeated her heart, and everything from the past thirty hours faded away. Suddenly, they were back to Friday night when she was maybe falling a little bit in love with Sam Hardy.
Chapter 10
March slipped into April and the snow gave way to spring showers. It’d been two weeks since Chloe and Sam dined in the snow in Gardenia Park. Two weeks since they’d agreed to give their relationship a chance. Also, two weeks of rain that melted the late winter snow and pelted the nascent buds and blossoms eager to emerge.
It was raining again this Monday morning as Chloe shook the drops from her umbrella and entered Haven’s from the alley door. She gazed toward the rain bucket in the middle of the kitchen floor. Water had reached the brim and threatened to spill over. Carefully she carried it to the door and tossed the water into the alley. The contractor had been about to start the new roof when the spring rains began and put a stop to the whole project.
Chloe clicked on the kitchen lights and tuned the radio to the local country station. Then she fired up the ovens, which, after she’d called the technician, seemed to suddenly be working again, thankfully. She hadn’t canceled the repairman, who was due this week.
Ruby claimed the ovens worked because she’d prayed for them, but when Chloe had asked how Ruby knew that God cared about Chloe or her ovens, Ruby’d said she had to go wait on a customer. Chloe had campaigned for new ovens with Sam, who talked to Rick, but the budget was tight for HARDRICK LLC’s newest business.
“I can live with a leak, Sam, but not with faulty ovens. How can we compete with Donut Heaven if our bread is burned on the outside and doughy on the inside?”
“Unless the roof caves in—then where are you?”
“Why do you have to go all logical on me?”
She was getting used to being a girlfriend again. Though she still wondered at the idea of being Sam Hardy’s girlfriend. They were keeping things quiet, staying off social media, spending their evenings at Mom’s, watching movies. Mom offered to let him stay in the downstairs guest room, but he declined.
“I want to do this right, Chloe. If I’m in the same house with you—”
She fell a little bit more in love with him.
But doing it “right” sparked a discussion on what exactly was “right,” which developed into a conversation about faith. Both believed in God, but as a rather distant, cold deity. Occasionally, when Chloe was alone in the office or her bedroom, she’d hold up her hand. “Okay, God, are You there?” Usually nothing happened, but one time, she again felt that warm, firm hand that had reached out to her that night with Mom. Goosebumps rose on her arms whenever she thought about gripping God’s hand.
She was starting to see what Mom meant, about being blessed by God. Even felt it a little bit. The sharp, cutting grief morphed into a dull ache. She’d told Sam about the blonde at Jean-Marc’s memorial and how it had sparked fears of an affair.
