Page 23 of Cut The Cake

The sound of sniffles reached him before he made it to the first of the steps leading to the back porch. Instantly, the hairs on the back of his neck sprang to attention. Had someone fallen and hurt themselves? Did they need his help?

Listening intently, he stilled his breathing. No. Those weren’t cries of pain. At least, not physical pain. He was nearly certain a woman huddled in the shadowy recesses of the porch. From the sound of things, she’d had her heart broken.

Torn between the urge to run as far away as he could get from crying women and an insistent desire to rush forward, he hesitated. The weeping continued. It twisted his gut until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to help. Or at least try.

He mounted the stairs two at time. Quietly, he lowered the trays of baked goods to one of the tables that dotted the wide back porch. He approached the corner on soundless feet. As he neared the rattan couch protected by a screen of climbing ivy, his heart lurched.

Jenny sat, her head buried in the crook of one arm, her dark ponytail draped over her shoulder. With her feet tucked under her, she looked so small and forlorn, he couldn’t help being drawn to the petite brunette. Unable to stop himself, he took another step closer.

“Jenny,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. I—” Her head popped up out of her arms.

Nick studied the wet cheeks she blotted with a balled-up tissue. Had her fiancé been in an accident? Had he called off the wedding? Whatever had happened, it had to be bad. Jenny was one of the most spirited women he’d ever met. After all, she’d planned an entire wedding by herself in a matter of days. “Did something happen to Bob?”

“Who?” She swiped her nose. “Oh.” She blew gently. “No. Bob’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

That couldn’t be true. If everything was hunky-dory, she wouldn’t be sitting alone in the dark, bawling her eyes out. He grabbed a handful of fresh tissues from a nearby box and handed them across. “You might need these.”

“Thanks.” She pressed the thin sheets to her face.

Wanting to give her a minute to pull herself together, he motioned toward the trays. “Let me drop those off in the kitchen. I’ll be right back, and we can talk about what upset you. Can I get you something? A cup of tea? A glass of water?”

“Coffee would be nice. It’s going to be a long night,” she said on a heavy sigh.

His heart clenched at the brokenness in her voice. The longing to help solve her problem—whatever it was—intensified.

In the kitchen, he slid the trays onto the shelf reserved for baked goods, then hurriedly sloshed coffee from a carafe into two heavy mugs. He’d watched Jenny fix her own coffee in the bakery often enough that he knew she took hers milky sweet. He hesitated only a second before stirring two spoons of sugar and a large dollop of cream into one of the mugs while he left his black. Carrying both, he returned to the porch.

By the time the screen door slapped shut behind him, Jenny sat upright in her corner of the couch. When she gripped the mug he handed her, her fingers were steady enough. She’d banished her tears, though she hadn’t been able to erase the puffiness around her eyes. Relieved to see her doing better, he lowered himself onto the other cushion on the couch.

“So what happened? Did you and Bob have a fight or something?” he asked over the rim of his coffee cup.

“No. Nothing like that.” She stared down. “It’s nothing, really. There’s some stuff I have to do, and I let it get the best of me for a minute there. I was feeling sorry for myself, I guess.” She blew across her coffee. “Pity, party of one,” she called, sounding exactly like a restaurant hostess.

Though her answer extinguished the tiny flame of hope that she and her fiancé had called off the wedding, he had to smile at her ability to poke fun at herself. “Considering everything you’ve accomplished in the past few days, I’d say you deserved a good cry. You certainly wouldn’t be the first bride to have a little meltdown.” Though he longed to pat her on the shoulder, the light glinting off the ring on her finger helped him resist the urge.

“I know. And I shouldn’t complain. It’s just …”

“It’s just what?” he prompted.

She stood. Abandoning her cup to the coffee table, she moved to the porch railing. “I need to make some changes to the wedding plans, and I’m afraid it’s going to upset everyone in town. They’ve been so nice.”

Is that all? He went to stand beside her. “I’ll let you in on a little secret—brides change their minds. It happens so often around here, we’re kind of used to it. Everyone just wants you to have a perfect wedding—a Heart’s Landing wedding. We kind of pride ourselves on that.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She swayed, her shoulder brushing against his shirt.

The slight touch sent his pulse racing. He stilled. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be attracted to her. Swallowing hard, he stared into the darkness beyond the porch. A warm breeze fanned his face. It carried the salty tang of the ocean, mixed with the light scent of Jenny’s perfume. Or maybe the smell came from flowers from the B&B’s garden. He wasn’t sure it mattered. “These changes, you need to make them?”

“Yes. But—”

“No buts. If you need to adjust the plans, just do it.” He managed to angle his body away from hers, a move that backfired when he ended up facing her. Staring down at Jenny’s pert features, he cleared his throat. “Why waste the energy fighting it? If you know it’s something you’re going to end up doing anyway, you’ll save yourself a lot of time and heartache if you just tackle it head on.”

Jenny’s dark eyes brightened. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thanks, Nick.”

“Now, how can I help?”

She reached out. Her fingers barely made contact with his arm, but her touch sent tingles of awareness coursing through him. He tried telling himself that his was nothing more than the usual reaction of a man in the presence of a pretty woman, but he knew there was more to it than that. He was dangerously close to crossing a line with Jenny, something he absolutely wouldn’t do. Not even if she wanted him to.

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