Chapter Two
Darius took the coffee Poppy handed him, hoping it would sit well in his stomach. He’d never admit it aloud, but he was nervous. He’d waited too long to return to Cranberry Cove and he had a lot of mistakes to make up for. In the last week, he’d visited some old foes and healed some wounds. This one wasn’t going to be easy. He’d deliberately put seeing Poppy off to the end of his reparations. She was his biggest regret.
Poppy looked incredible. Her red-gold hair shone in the office’s LED lights. Her slate blue eyes were wary. She’d lost weight too, not that he’d ever cared about that. His friends had, but her size had never been an issue and he shouldn’t have let their opinions sway his decision to take her to prom.
Regrets—they’d eat at you if you let them. He’d chosen to confront those demons rather than let them fester and drag his soul down.
Anxiety and anticipation raced over him leaving him half breathless and strangely excited. He was looking forward to spending time with her, even if it was going to be extremely uncomfortable for him. He was almost as excited as he had been when she said yes to his prom invitation.
Now, ten years after graduation, Poppy had matured into a beautiful woman. She was curvaceous, delectably so, and she had an understated elegance which blended with her girl next door looks. The rumor mill had supplied the fact that she too had attended culinary school and had graduated top of her class. She could have taken any job she wanted, but she’d chosen to come home and work at her grandmother’s bakery. He respected that decision.
“Are you enjoying being home?” he asked, settling into the chair she waved him toward. Her office was cramped, nothing more than a desk, a bookcase that doubled as a filing cabinet and two chairs. Almost everything was neatly put away.
“I love being back home. I worked in a lot of places while I was in school. Working part-time and going to school was exhausting, but I had to pay the bills. But my passion has always been baking. I’ve always preferred small town living to the chaos of city life, but I came home to support Gramma.”
“I’m sorry she passed away. I’m sure she’d be proud of you.” He’d miss her grandmother. She was one of the few in town who saw beyond his bad boy image to the hurting youth beneath.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks pinkened.
Her blush was adorable even if it had him wondering what thoughts led to it.
“I’ll cut this short because I know you’re busy,” he said, steeling himself for the words and probable rejection to come. “I’m here for two purposes. First, I want to apologize for being a jerk and ditching you on prom night. It was a selfish, weaselly thing to do. I let peer pressure get to me. I cannot tell you how bad I felt. How bad I still feel.”
“Um. Thanks?”
He’d known the words would be inadequate, even if the sentiment behind them was heartfelt and long overdue. He wasn’t sure he could find more than a simple apology. Of all the things he’d done in his life, ditching Poppy was his biggest regret. Even as he walked away years ago, he’d been aware of the hurt he would cause. It hadn’t stopped him, because he was a vain, stupid idiot who listened to his immature friends.
“I know. Words are inadequate. All I can offer are apologies. Ditching you, without a word was wrong. No, ditching you at all was messed up. There is no way to make amends, I get that. It’s no comfort for you, and you only have my word on it, but I’ve never abandoned a date again, not for any reason.” He’d been scrupulously honest and forthcoming. He never cancelled without as much notice as possible. If he made a date, he went on the date; even if something better came along.
“I left town that night. I joined the army the next day. It was impulse, a way to keep me from coming back and facing my demons.”
“Okay.” She gulped her drink and waved her hand in front of her mouth at the heat.
He swallowed hard. He was hurting her again, physically and mentally. Shoot! He closed his eyes and carefully sipped his coffee, collecting his thoughts and gathering himself together. This was much harder than he’d expected, but at least she hadn’t thrown him out.
“I’d like to start again. Build a friendship now that we’ve both returned to our hometown. We’re adults. I’d like to think we can move beyond the stupidity of youth. My stupidity.”
She was quiet so long, he was sure she was going to kick him out of her bakery, and he wouldn’t blame her one bit.
“I don’t know…” She trailed off and took a moment to straighten the items on her desk until they were precisely aligned. “Okay. I’ll try to forget the past and move on. It’s what Gramma would have wanted.”
“Thank you. I’m honored.” He pushed as much sincerity into his voice as he could manage, hoping to display the depth of his gratitude. He wasn’t under the illusion that it was good between them, but at least she was willing to try. “Your grandmother was a compassionate woman. Very kind and understanding.” His praise was awkward, but heartfelt.
“You said you were here about the contest?”
He hid a smile at her bold pushiness. He’d always like that about her. She didn’t take crap from anyone, except about her weight. It had been her Achilles heel back then.
“I am. I wanted to ask you a huge favor.” He held up a hand before she had time to process his statement, let alone object. “I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But I’m going to and I’ll understand if you need time to think before you answer me.”
“Fine.” She waved a hand, indicating that she wanted him to continue. A tiny frown turned down the corners of her mouth.
Wow. One thing he’d learned from his overworked mother was that when a woman said fine, in that tone of voice, it was anything but okay to proceed. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
“I want to enter the gingerbread contest, but all the spots are taken. The high school kitchen where it’s held only has twelve kitchens.”
“And?” A furrow formed between her brows. He wanted to smooth it away with his thumb. Or his lips.
“I’d like you to take me on as a partner. Please.” He braced himself for her refusal.
