Page 52 of Perfect Pairing
“About?”
“About us.”
“Is there an us?”
Fucking hell, I wished and wanted and hoped and dreamed.
But it was all a fantasy.
“You don’t know how badly I wish I could say yes,” I told her honestly.
“I wish you could too,” she said quietly. “I wish…so many things were different.”
“Me too, honey.” I scrubbed my hand over my face and through my hair, settling it on the back of my neck and rubbing circles, as if that would make this all okay, as if I could massage into my scalp that the idea of “us” was a bad one when nothing else in my life had ever felt more right.
“What are we going to do?” I asked again.
I needed her to make this choice for me. Exactly like that day six months ago, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to do it for us.
She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling. “The second I get back…this has to be over. It’s the only way.”
I swallowed hard, my throat thickening with emotion at the thought of letting this easy intimacy I’d found with her go. Still, I knew she was right.
“Friends?” I asked.
“Always.”
JULY
All my worries wentaway the second I drove back into Apple Blossom Bay. Nothing settled me quite like being back on home soil. There was an added prickle of anticipation against my skin this time, knowing that I was coming home for good and that I was only a few weeks away from opening my very first bakery—a dream I’d had since I was a little girl.
In the seven months since I’d last been home, I’d spent countless hours on the phone with my dad and Jay Daniels, our contractor, going over every detail to make sure it was perfect.
They’d started off by gutting the space, addressing all structural issues and potential health hazards, then rebuilding it all. All the important pieces were in place—my counter and POS system, topped with a large bakery display case. Tables and chairs were ordered for the open space, and booths had been constructed along the walls. The kitchen was honestly a wet dream, with top-of-the-line appliances and a massive island workspace where I could prepare all my confections.
My dad had spared no expense, and while having the familycompany retain ownership of my baby wasn’t ideal, I had to admit, it wound up being for the best.
When I pulled up to my parents’ house, I barely remembered to shut my car off as I sprinted inside, shouting for my dad as I burst through the door.
He met me with a wide grin in the hall halfway between the kitchen and foyer.
“Well, hello to you too, sweets,” he said when I threw myself at him, letting him sweep me up in a big hug. “This is quite the greeting.”
Once I landed back on my feet, I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Enough with the pleasantries. I want to see my bakery.”
My dad chuckled but let me lead him back out the door, shouting to my mom that he’d be back later.
We wound up taking his Tahoe instead of my car, mostly because my dad’s six-foot-three-inch frame couldn’t squeeze into my RAV-4 when it was packed full of everything I owned.
“So…I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said as he navigated us down the peninsula toward town.
“Okay…” I said slowly.
“You absolutely don’t have to accept it. We’re… Well, I’ll explain more when I show you.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth, resisting the urge to press him for more information.
I found out soon enough.
