Page 52 of Half Baked

Surprised, I lift my head just as a family steps inside. The children immediately run over to the display case before us, clearly unbothered by the fact that they’re interrupting something. Poppy recovers quicker than I do, turning to face the group and smiling broadly.

“Welcome to Seaside Bakehouse. Is there anything I can get you? Or are you just browsing for the moment?”

“I know what I want,” the little boy shouts to his parents.

“I don’t yet,” the young girl snips back at him.

“How about I give you all a moment?”

“Thank you,” the woman replies warmly.

“We need a moment too. We have a conversation to finish,” I lean over and murmur. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” Poppy asks quietly.

“I can volunteer everything. Myself, my time, anything else you might need. No money. Then you will have more time and flexibility to do what you need to for your revenue to increase.”

“Hayden.” She gently rests her hand over my heart, sending heat radiating through my chest. I’m usually the one reaching for her, and it’s a thrill to have her catch me by surprise with physical contact. “That’s kind of you, but you already have two jobs. You can’t try to be here too.”

“I’ve never thought of you as charity, not for one second,” I whisper.

“The fact that you are going on this show with me is already more than enough. Small Town Table is here because you agreed to do this, and I get the money to keep the bakery from them. So, you already fixed things. And I probably owe you another hundred thank yous for it.”

“If you’re not careful, it’s going to start feeling normal—saying nice things to me like that.”

A small smirk dances on her lips. “Don’t hold your breath, Baywatch.”

“There she is.” I tug on her ponytail and grin back. “But seriously, I want to help you in any way you’ll accept. Not because I think you need me, that has never been the reason. But because I like seeing you happy.”

Poppy’s expression is all soft eyes and parted lips, and her body leans closer to mine with my words. I catch her waist in my hand and drag my fingers across the tiny little flowers on her top.

“You’ll think about it?” I ask hopefully. “Let me know if there’s anything you’re okay with me doing?”

“I will,” she agrees carefully.

I can see that mind of hers working in overtime and I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. But I’ve already gotten further than I expected I would in this conversation. There’s no benefit in pushing it further.

“I know now,” the little girl announces as she skips over to the counter. With the family ready for her, I drop my hand from Poppy’s waist and take a step back. There’s something intoxicating about simply being in her presence. I’m back to being able to watch her work all day and being a happy man.

I know she doesn’t need me, but we haven’t talked about the fact that I think I might need her.

Chapter 23

Poppy

For a fleeting moment in July, there’s a window where both fresh strawberries and blueberries are in season to be picked. In Foxport, the place to go do this is Walker Farms. With classic red barns, a year-round market, and various growing fields that stretch on for acres and acres, it is a produce filled paradise.

As a frequent visitor, I have established a close relationship with the Walker family over the years. And they’ve allowed me free reign to pick all the provisions I’d like—my only cost being free baked goods for their family whenever they come by the bakehouse. It’s a steal, and a much needed break for my budget.

I typically come out here alone to wander the fields at my leisure. But after the run in at Pearl Beach, it turns out that my friends are not letting me evade them any longer. As I park, I find all three of them already here and waiting.

“Oh hey,” I greet them casually, climbing out of my Bronco.

Wren pushes her sunglasses up onto her dark hair and shoots me a look that confirms our topic of conversation today. “Finally,” she huffs. “We were betting on if you’d show or not.”

They watched Hayden kiss me on that beach… kind of. Itwasjust a simple forehead kiss. Even if there was nothing simple about the way it made me feel.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Stevie accuses in the most innocent way possible.

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