Absolutely adorable.
My heart lurches a little. For all my dreams of being a fashion designer and running my own business, I cast aside a lot of other dreams I once had. Including becoming a mother. I never thought I could have it all so I picked the one I wanted the most and devoted all my time to it.
“Okay Charlotte, why don’t you sit with me for a minute? We can see if your dad went to order a drink and then ask the guys at the counter in a few minutes.” She jumps up to join me in the chair and we chat about her favorite sweets. I figure if her dad went to the bathroom or to order something, he’ll be right over.
“I like chocolate cake pops.”
“That’s an excellent choice. Have you ever had an almond croissant?”
“Why do your words sound different than mine?” she scrunchies her nose.
“I’m from Québec, Canada. I speak French and English. Sometimes they get jumbled together.” Charlotte giggles and tries to repeat the word Québec several times but it comes out more like “cue back.” We’re both laughing when a tall, muscular built man comes over. His navy sweater is snug across his broad shoulders and his dark jeans hug his thighs. He is mouth-wateringly handsome. I would be drooling if I didn’t close my mouth.
Instantly I know he must be Charlotte’s father. If the short red hair and trimmed darker red beard weren’t enough, he has the same sparkling green eyes.
“Daddy!” she squeals as she jumps down from my lap.
“Char you know you can’t go wandering around the bakery.” His rich baritone voice leans more scared than angry. He scoops her up in his arms and hugs her before he faces me. “Sorry about her bothering you. I’m Jake, her father, not a stranger.” I laugh at his added comment.
“No bother at all,” I wave him off. “We had a great time chatting.” I smile and take in his full height as I stand. He’s got to be at least six feet tall. Though at my five-foot four frame, most people seem six feet tall when I’m not in heels.
“Let me grab you a coffee to thank you,” he sets Charlotte down and extends his hand.
I take it. The moment his warm hand wraps around mine and it’s like butterflies have been released in my stomach. His eyes widen at the touch, like he also had an unexpected reaction to something as simple as a handshake. Or I’m imaging it.
Just like I’m imagining him shirtless, in a kitchen, making me pasta.
“That’s okay, I already had one. And I’m Mallory.” I bite my lower lip as he releases my hand. I wonder if he’s going to any of the festival events. Or if he’s married. I don’t see a ring.
“How about dinner then? Tomorrow at six? I can meet you here,” he checks his pockets. “Let me grab a card really quick,” he takes Charlotte with him to the counter, goes behind it and starts looking around. I’m shocked at first but as numerous people wave and say hi to him as he walks back, I realize he probably works here.
Maybe that pasta daydream isn’t too farfetched.
I swallow thickly, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Sure, I don’t think I have plans.” I take the business card and see his name, Jake Smith, printed in the same font as the bakery’s sign.
“That’s my cell phone on the back,” I turn it over and see ten digits scrawled out in black ink. “Text me if you have any issues. Hope you like steak.” He winks and I swear if I wasn’t wearing so much winter clothing my panties would drop.
You’ve been single too long Mallory.
And for the first time since my life started imploding, I have a little hope that this trip will actually be fun.
Chapter 2
Jake
I thoughtthat after multiple attempts at a stern talking to that Charlotte wouldn’t wander off again, like just now. But alas, a four-year-old in a bakery is bound to leave your side and go ogle at pastries. Or chat with people she knows. I did promise her a cake pop after I grabbed my paycheck from the office in the back.
I look around the bakery seating. There’s a handful of locals and a few strangers probably here for the festival. I groan. The Heart-to-Heart Festival is great for the town. It gives us an influx of tourists at a time when most people wouldn’t even think of making the trip to Montana.
February means a second round of winter is just beginning. When the town started the festival as a fun way to entice singles looking for love when most people don’t leave their own homes, much less travel, our bakery became the unofficial sponsor. My deliveries have increased twofold. While I can’t always take my bike, it all depends on the ice and the snowplows. I at least still have a job during the winter season.
Working at Spice Spice Baby Bakery has been a lifesaver. And definitely not what I pictured myself doing at thirty-one. But after a tour in the army, I was feeling restless. I had a lack ofpurpose and no drive to change it. I wandered up and down the east coast trying to figure out what to do next. That’s when I met Sophia.
She was a music loving hiker who had me wrapped around her finger. I was hopelessly and madly in love. I followed her all the way out to Montana. When we found out she was pregnant we were both over the moon, or at least I was. After Charlotte was born things changed. Sophia decided she didn’t want to be a mom. She relinquished custody, signed over her rights, and left. I stayed in Montana in case she ever came back. but she never did. It’s been me and Char for four years now.
I pull myself from my drifting thoughts and keep looking for Char. If I was a four-year-old who talked to anyone and everyone, where would I be? I hear loud giggling from a corner and spy Char sitting with a blonde lady. The two look happy, almost like a mother daughter duo. But the bright red hair is a dead giveaway for Charlotte. Not too many redheads in town.
