“Yes.” I pause. “Almost.”
“Antonio,” he groans.
I laugh, kissing him. “I’m sure enough. For now anyway.”
He drops me off in front of the bakery. He starts to open his mouth, and I give him my most authoritative look.
“I’m going to be fine.”
“Oh, I know you will be fine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes. “It’s Baywood I’m worried about.”
We kiss—once, twice, five times—and then I watch him drive off.
I feel strangely bereft.
I look at Earl’s door. It doesn’t look welcoming. It looks intimidating.
Is it weird to go in? Yes. Incredibly weird.
Maybe I should walk around instead. Not talk to anyone. Yes—the not-talking-to-anyone sounds like a plan.
Suddenly the door flies open and Earl beams at me.
“There you are!” He beckons me in. “Caspian told me I’d find you here.”
“What? When?”
“Oh, about thirty seconds ago,” Earl replies cheerfully. “He called.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. Maybe I should be annoyed that Caspian thought I needed this extra encouragement, but I’m just grateful. Because he was right.
I was thirty seconds away from calling him and asking what made him abandon me in the middle of a scary town.
Earl hands me a warm cinnamon roll. It’s perfect.
I take a bite just as a loud female voice with a blunt, foreign accent makes me nearly choke.
“Yes, I see the attraction,” the voice declares from a tablet propped against a bowl of dough.
“Caspian with his seductive eyes and playboy hair. The aura of dominance. The solid strength. And you with that anxious frown and the tense shouldersof a scholar.”
“This is Maija,” Earl says importantly. “Don’t be fooled — she’s not actually here. She’s Zooming us all the way from Finland!”
I finish my roll under Maija’s unblinking stare, trying to decide how insulted I should feel.
“In Finland, we have a saying,” she starts.
She pauses long enough for me to hope she’s lost the connection. She hasn’t.
“Your mouth would eat it. Your stomach could take it. But your legs can’t handle it.”
“She’s full of wisdom like that,” Earl says reverently.
“Maija will meet us in the flesh in a few days,” he adds happily.
“Lovely.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I have six jars of dried prune jam,” Maija says.
