Page 26 of The Blessings of Christmas
“I guess it’s just the whole Christmas thing.” He grabbed a towel and Sarah turned off the faucet. Ryan should be better at lying. He’d had plenty of experience.
“You’re thinking of your brother, aren’t you?” Sarah’s own eyes filled. “Oh, Ryan. Don’t think I don’t feel the same. Both me and the boys.”
The emptiness in her eyes only made his own pain worse. It killed him to even bring this up, but he wanted the best for her. And that wasn’t him.
“Have you ever thought of dating, Sarah?”
“No way.” Grabbing a sponge, she wiped down the butcher block counter with jerky strokes. “I can’t even think of it.”
Taking the sponge from her hands, Ryan set it on the sink. He was no good at talking about feelings. “The boys might need a man around the house.”
Sarah looked at Ryan as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. The thought of having another man play ball with his nephewsor take them to movies made his head hurt. Maybe he should suggest some limits. “Of course, I’d want to check him out first.”
The hurt in her eyes turned to outrage. “Oh you would, would you?”
Shuffling in his boots, Jamie nearly lost his footing. What right did he have to say something like that? “I just want you to be careful. That’s all, Sarah.”
The words felt like chunks of dry bread in his mouth. He wasn’t any good at this. Jamie had been the one who always said the right thing. His older brother could be clever and kind at the same time. Not Ryan. He laid out whatever was on his mind like a slab of meat at Froehlich’s Butcher Shop.
Sarah was studying him and her eyes softened. “I know you mean well, Ryan. You’re always here for us. Thank you for that.” She lay one cool hand over his.
The light touch of her skin zinged through his body. “I’m h-happy you think of me like that. Dependable, I mean.”
Years ago, she never would have said that he was there for her. He was the pain in everyone’s side. The black sheep of the family. His behavior caused too many calls from the principal. Too many complaints from neighbors that he’d busted their fence or taken all their ripe cucumbers or done donuts in their fields with his pickup. Back then he’d found his stupid pranks hilarious.
Now he wished he could punch the reset button. For her.
Blood pounded in his temples from holding back. Sarah smelled like almonds from mixing the sand tarts. How easy it would be to wrap his arms around her. Whisper words in her hair that would probably horrify her.
She gave her apron a tug over the full figure he found enticing. “We’re fine. I’m, well, everything’s fine. So the boys really said trains?”
Nodding slowly, he swallowed hard. No way could he reveal what the boys had asked for without looking like a fool. Time to change the subject. “Do you mind if I ask you a business question?”
“Sure. Ask away.”
“Why do we focus on baked goods when the shop’s named The Full Cup?” He really pulled that one out of the air. But he had been wondering.
Her surprised laughter filled his ears and his heart. “Good question. My dad named the business. He thought flavored coffees would be the future. Mom liked to bake but Dad pictured a cozy coffee shop, maybe with some bakery. The fancy machine my father bought was way beyond Mom. She gave him a hard time because ‘that contraption’ cost a lot of money.”
Ryan chuckled. “Your dad had a point. Espresso coffees go for a pretty price.”
“I know that. But Mom still hates that machine. She doesn’t know how to work it.” Her curls had escaped the net. Frowning, she played with one, and he could almost feel it tickle his burned hand. “The flavored coffees take time. I can’t be in the front working the machine and in the back baking too.”
Ryan couldn’t let this drop. He also couldn’t stop staring at that curl. “I understand. But still...”
“What’s that smell?” Sarah sniffed and ran to the wall of ovens.
The cheese crowns. What else could go wrong? While he stood here dreaming about soft curls, the cheese crowns had become charcoal briquettes.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah.” Clumsy as usual, he had trouble pulling the baking mitts over his burned hands.
But Sarah was on it. She had the trays out in a second. “Oh, dear.” Her face fell as she stared at the charred edges of the pastries.
“I’ll do another batch.”
Her eyes swirled to the clock. “No problem, Ryan. We can live one day without them. Let’s get to work on the cookies, okay?”
But it wasn’t okay. Not for him.
