“You should have come earlier,” she said sharply. With a quick glance, she confirmed, and sure enough, Charlotte had already turned the closed sign around. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“I just got off work and hurried all the way here.” The woman looked past her to take note of Greer, but wisely, she said nothing.
“The cash drawer has been counted already and put aside.”
“Please, I want only a box of your toffee for my son,” the woman said. “It’s his birthday.”
Beatrice took a step back. “Hold on, please.” Reaching beside her to the top of the glass display, she snatched down one of their nicest tins with Rare Confectionery stamped on it in blue ink.
“There you go. A pound of plain toffee.”
“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “I can’t afford a whole pound at once. A quarter’s all I can manage.”
“Take it,” Beatrice insisted, shoving it into her hands. “Compliments of our resident toffee-maker. Enjoy! And please tell your son I hope he has many happy returns of the day.”
“Why, thank you, that’s so kind of—”
Beatrice managed to push her backward and close the door. Then she drew down the shade, turned, and faced the man who rattled her like seeds in a nutshell.
“You must have seen the closed sign,” she said, gesturing behind her but instantly wishing she didn’t sound cross with him.
“I did, but if the door opened, then I knew you would still be here. That was kind of you to give toffee to that woman.”
Beatrice shrugged, pleased he’d thought her kind. “A boy’s birthday,” she muttered.
Then Greer shook his head, his smile breaking out over his face. “And yet, you managed to be kindandrude to her at the same time.” He started to laugh.
About to take offense, she realized he spoke the truth. Besides, she didn’t really mind him stating the obvious.
“She was lucky you handed her the tin and used it merely to push her onto the pavement. I was waiting for you to chuck it at her head. A pound tin might have killed her.” He was laughing harder, bending double.
Beatrice frowned, fighting the bubble of mirth struggling to expand and set her to laughing.
“Killed by a toffee tin,” he added. “Can you imagine?”
That did it! She started to laugh, too. And neither of them stopped for minutes. Good, refreshing, relaxing minutes that Beatrice greatly appreciated.
“I’ll have you know I’ve never killed anyone, with a toffee tin or otherwise. What’s more, you’re the sole person at whom I’ve ever tossed any of our sweets.”
He straightened, still smiling. “Then I’m honored.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course,youwould be, although I cannot imagine why.”
“Because right from the start, you treated me like we were already friends. At least, you didn’t pretend to rigid politeness or false congeniality.”
“So, you’re saying I was insolent and too familiar, right from when we first met?”
He nodded. “Something like that, yes.”
Was it possible she’d seen something in him from the first moments?Greer had certainly got under her skin with his initial appearance in the store. That had been somewhat acceptable. It was when he’d worked his way into her heart that she’d realized the danger in growing close to him.
“I have another batch of toffee to make. What do you want?”
“Ah, there’s my sassy girl.”
She nearly gasped at the shard of pain slicing through her.
“I am nothing of the kind, neither sassy, nor your girl.” With that, she went around him to stand on the other side of the counter, with the velvet curtain at her back.
