Page 48 of Chasing You

Isla

What? What do you mean you know?

Are you in Ruby Cove????

Me

You did tell me to take a vacation, remember? When are you back?

Isla

Yeah, but since when do you take my advice? We get back this weekend, will you stillbe around?

Me

Yeah, I’ll be around.

Isla

Wait, so you saw the eagles?

The sea breeze whips across my face as I walk along Main Street. Spring is in full bloom here in Ruby Cove. The days are brighter and feel longer, like the sun is fighting to stay in the sky every night, as if it wants to spend just a little bit longer with us.

A group of teenagers run from the other side of the road and catapult themselves into the ocean, the splash sending salt water up over the rock wall and onto the side of my jean shorts. I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth as I hear their cheers and chatter as they all breach the surface.

I stop to look out over the ocean, to watch the boats sail out into the bay. Ruby Cove is like heaven for ocean adventurers. Anyone who loves the sea would love it here. It’s the perfect balance of peaceful quiet and a hive of activity, somehow it works. But as I stand here, I can’t ignore the grumble of my stomach.

I spin around, looking for somewhere that can dull that grumble as it rolls through my abdomen once again. I see Isla’s art studio, a watch shop, a jeweler, and a place called The Sugared Plum.

I see someone walk out the door with a takeaway coffee cup and a paper bag. I watch her as she pulls something out of the bag, I can’t see exactly what it is from this side of the street, but the way her eyes nearly roll back in her head as she takes a bite has me taking a step to cross the road in the direction of the door she just closed behind her.

As soon as I open the glass door, I’m met with the smell of pure heaven. I find myself stuck in the doorway, taking in everything in front of me. The soft maroon color of the walls, the number of people seated around round wooden tables, the plush cushion of the window seat looking out over Main Street, and the gorgeous bouquet of flowers on the counter right next to a glasscabinet filled with the most beautiful pastries I think I’ve ever seen.

There are croissants, fruit tarts, apple turnovers, generous sized cinnamon scrolls, and donuts that look like they’re about to explode with whatever filling is squeezed inside them. I fear drool is creeping out of the corner of my mouth as I take it all in.

“Buongiorno, signore.”A middle-aged woman says from behind the counter. Her dark, frizzy hair is held back by a gingerbread-printed headband tied at the top. It’s dusted in flour and what looks like cocoa, and I immediately know that this is the woman who’s created the treasures in front of me.

“Ciao,” I say mindlessly, my gaze still stuck on the food. “What do you recommend?” I ask, my attention fighting between the pastries and the woman in front of me.

She smiles brightly as her eyes light up. “Oh, that’s a hard question,” she laughs. “Depends what you’re in the mood for.” Her smile is warm and inviting. As if she’s beckoning people into her store with her smile alone. She feels familiar, like everyone would find a little sliver of someone that they love in her.

“Anything.” I laugh, not able to choose as I look at everything in the cabinet once more.

“How about this?” she says, leaning over the counter as if she’s about to share a secret with me. “How about I make you up a plate with a little bit of everything?”

I can feel my eyes widening. “That would be…wonderful.”

She throws a wink my way. “Take a seat,Tesoro,I’ll bring it over to you.”

Before I can thank her, she’s gone in a whirl, disappearing into the kitchen. I turn around, looking for an empty table amongst everyone else who decided this would be a good place to get breakfast.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bakery so busy in my life. I’m lucky there is an abundance of tables in here, otherwise I’d be sitting on the street side with whatever treasures the woman is going to bring me. Not that that sounds like the worst idea, infact, part of me thinks it might be nice to dangle my legs over the rock wall and eat in the fresh air. But then I spy a table.

I take quick strides to claim it before someone else does. It’s just by the window, positioned in the perfect place to get a view of the world going by on Main.

I run a hand across my jaw, feeling the way my stubble has grown in the last few days since I’ve been here. I’ll have to trim it before I get back to work.

Work.

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