Page 46 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
Daisy emerged sometime later with a much cooler head (and body).
She concluded that what she felt was a natural physical response. Candace was attractive. Sexy, even. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. However, just because she was attractive and Daisy happened to notice did not mean she was attractedtoher.
There was a difference,damnit.
Daisy needed to get laid. The last time she had the bandwidth for anything beyond surface-level dalliances was… too long ago to remember. One-night stands suited her more, but even then, it had been a bit of a dry spell.
Quite literally.
What was her name? Francesca? Flora? She was a vacationer visiting with her brother and sister-in-law, in desperate need of some adult attention after helping corral her niblings all week. Daisy had been more than happy to give it after listening to her complain during a bagel order. The fact that her bed was empty the next morning (and every other morning) was fine.
She was completely fine and in control of her emotions. Enough that the sight of Candace only filled her with annoyance. It was not cute the way she draped her legs over the couch’s arm. Or how she cuddled under Daisy’s favorite blanket, watching the now-resumed Simpson episode. Her laugh at Lisa and Bart Simpson fighting over being on separate hockey teams was grating. Daisy swiped the remote from its place on the coffee table and turned the TV off.
Startled, Candace swung her legs back to their proper place and sat up bolt-straight. She apologized, saying, “Sorry. It’s one of my favorite episodes, so I thought I’d watch while I waited.”
“Mine, too,” Daisy found herself grunting. Arms crossed, she and Candace stared at each other until the latter looked away.
“Growing up, I was alone a lot. I used to watch this show to feel a little less that way… like I had a big, dysfunctional family with siblings and parents who would do anything for me. You said it was your dad’s favorite, right?”
Daisy frowned. When had she mentioned that?
Reading her, Candace offered, “You told me that night at the bonfire.”
“Oh, yeah,” Daisy hazily recalled. She did not mean to keep talking but thought aloud. “Before streaming was a thing, it was our nightly ritual to eat dinner while we watched, then start baking. His whole routine would be thrown off on days the network didn’t air on schedule. I put it on when I bake now for background noise.”
Otherwise, it was too quiet. When it was silent, and all that she could hear was the clatter of cooking and her own mumbling of baking calculations, she could hear somethingelse. A thought, half-formed but fully mature, that demanded answering.
WHY?
Why was she still doing this? The struggle, the frustration… What wasanyof it for, other than keeping the dream of her parents alive?
Whenever it was too quiet, and she was alone with only herself for company, that thought nagged her. Daisy hated it and herself for letting it creep in.
So, up the TV volume went.
“I tried to straighten things,” Candace told her, breaking Daisy’s dour descent. “I’m not sure where everything goes, but I did my best.”
Daisy saw when she came out of the bathroom. The kitchen was cleaner than clean, like a tidy army had descended upon it. The items that could not be put away were arranged neatly. What had once been a mountain of food-crusted implements was now sparkling and stacked by cookware type.
If Daisy were being honest, it was a better job than she would have done herself. Honesty, though, was beyond her when it came to this woman.
“Okay.”
The flicker of disappointment that crossed Candace’s features was replaced by practiced business professionalism.
“You said you need to go ingredient shopping before the dough finishes proofing?”
As Daisy nodded, Candace rose in a smooth motion and went for the door.
“No time to waste, then.”
“You’re coming?” Daisy did not like the hint of excitement she heard in her voice. Flatter, she said, “I don’t need you to do that.”
Candace stood before Daisy, at least an arm’s length between them. She cocked her head as she spoke and it spilled her ponytail over one shoulder in a perfect cascade.
Daisy had the urge to pull it.
“Maybe not,” Candace agreed. “But don’t you want me to?”
