“I trusted him. Truly. He wasn’t the cheating kind. But who was she?”She had to trust Jean-Marc. She had no other evidence really.
“You never know what a man will do if he really wants something.”Sam’s honest, reflexive comment ignited a few anxieties. Jean-Marc wasn’t the cheating sort. He was the workaholic sort. But Sam Hardy? He knew how to play the field, how to get what he wanted. And plenty of women wanted him.
Yes, he’d changed his ways. At least so he claimed. But could she trust him with her heart for a lifetime? She thought of all these things in the early mornings, when she was alone with the flour and eggs, sugar and spices, and the aroma of bread baking. Haven’s was becoming her haven.
If only she could find that cookie recipe. She’d stayed late every night last week, trying different variations of fudge and caramel, but nothing was right. Everyone was pitching in, but that cookie remained as elusive as Bigfoot in the Smokies. And people werestillasking for it.
“Did she figure out the recipe yet? My kid’s birthday party is coming up.”
TheHearts BendTribuneeven ran an editorial about it. Good grief. Though the press might help when they attended the town council meeting in a few weeks. Chloe just hated feeling like she was letting down the town.
Laura Kate came in at five to start the donuts and fritters, the crullers, and every other assortment of sweet treats. At half past five, Ruby arrived to make the coffee, fill the display cases, the empty napkin holders, the stir stick dispensers, and whatever else a customer needed for the perfect cup of morning Joe. She also checked inventory and left a list for Chloe.
At six, Chloe opened the shop and Ruby greeted every customer with,“Darling, come on in, get ’em while they’re hot.”Around ten when the house products were done and the morning rush slowed, Laura Kate started special orders—cakes and pies—while Chloe ran errands, did the banking, and ordered supplies.
Laura Kate was turning into a genius with dough, with frosting and decorating, with just about everything—except cleaning her station. Last week Chloe found her in a puddle of bright red ooze. For a nano second, she thought the girl had cut herself royally. But how? Turned out it was only cherry pie filling. She and Ruby were still laughing at Chloe about that one. Even got Robin in on the joke.
The plan to raise Haven’s profile seemed to be working. Robin took over the social media accounts from Laura Kate—who kept forgetting to post, no surprise—and caught the attention of local teens who started stopping in after school for coffee and treats, even doing a bit of homework. The Rock Mill High football team quickly figured out Sam was there on Mondays and filled the place, which sent Chloe looking online for outdoor tables. If she found a set that worked, she’d file for a permit from the town. Her plan to add savory items like quiches and hand pies was going over well. However, the French pastry offerings were taking a bit longer to implement. Managing the bakery didn’t leave her much time to create.
At home, Mom’s chemo continued, and she seemed to settle in, no more tired than after the first treatment. She still went to the office though Frank offered to let her work a bit more from home. She thought she’d give it a try next week.
Every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, sometimes on Saturday, Chloe’s handsome, hunky, football-playing quarterback boyfriend walked through the alley door, and well, she felt like ganache being poured over a fresh cake. Warm and liquid and gooey. With a side glance at Ruby, he’d grab Chloe and hurry her into the office for a kiss or two.
“I see what you’re doing. Got eyes in the back of my head.”Trust Ruby not to let them get away with a stolen moment alone.
Then he’d wrap an apron around himself and work the counter, charming all of the customers. He’d clean the dining room, refill dispensers, make coffee, and pull dough from the proofer. Last week, when the rain let up, Sam tossed the football, careful of his knee, in the alley with some of the Rock Mill High team. And, when he could, stole a few more kisses from Chloe.
Every Friday afternoon, Chloe walked to Hearts Bend Bank where she deposited a healthy amount, which made her a bit proud. While Jean-Marc was her number one fan, he’d expressed doubt when she confessed her dream of owning their own café.
“Chère cœur,”he’d said in his French way that gave her shivers.“You’re a genius with your pastries, oui, but to manage books, counting coins and euros, you will be bored, no?”To prove her seriousness, she’d signed up and aced an online accounting class. She’d had her husband’s attention then. That’s when they’d started truly talking…
Never mind. It was the past. For the present, she had to think about the upcoming town council meeting.
“Uh-oh, you’re frowning.” Sam entered the office and perched on the edge of the desk. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, hey…” Chloe rose to kiss him. “I was just thinking about this place and how much I love it. Jean-Marc and I dreamed about opening a country café before he died. And now, here I am, managing a small-town bakery. We can’t let Donut Heaven win.”
Sam pulled her close, wrapping his strong arms around her. “I know it’s not the same as owning a café in the French countryside with your husband, but I’m glad you’re running Haven’s, Chloe. With this man, who loves you.”
She pushed out of his arms, gaped at him. He didnotjust use the L word. “What?”
He pressed his fist to his lips, grinning. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”
“Love? It’s only been a few weeks.” Trembling, she turned to the office door, ready to make her escape.
“—Rick’s in love with you, Chloe. Yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you. It’s Rick—”
She whirled around, frowning at his laugh, swatting at him. “That’s not funny.” She couldn’t help but smile, though quickly grew serious again. “Sam, are you really in love with me?”
“I think I am.” He pulled her close. “Have I scared you?”
“Um, no, never mind all my trembling.”
The bakery phone jangled on the wall outside the office door. “Ruby,” she called, “can you get that?” Chloe wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist, tucked her head under his chin. “Where were we?”
“Look, babe.” Babe? He called her babe. “I still want to go slow, but I’ve never felt this way before. Ever. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this day. For our fifteen-year-old selves to grow up.”
“Wow, I’m—I don’t know, I mean…” She made a face. “That didn’t sound good. Sam, I am so ready to move on with my life. I know, for the first time since Jean-Marc died, that I have a future.” She brushed her hand over his chest. “I’d love it to be with you. It’s just—it feels quick. I still have feelings to deal with. Feelings about—”
