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Second-Chance Sweet Shop Page 11


  Sasha quoted a price and the attorney handed her a credit card, and then gave her the address where she and Fletcher were living together. She was certain the wedding guests would be surprised to find the new flavor combinations under the delicate flowers and buttercream and royal icings.

  There had been a time when she’d baked cakes exclusively for weddings, baby and bridal showers, anniversary and retirement dinners. Most of her clients wanted over-the-top creations to outdo one another. Sasha walked Nicole to the door before returning to the kitchen, where she checked her inventory for what she needed to make the cake. Although she liked baking muffins, cookies and bread, it was creating theme cakes that proved both most challenging and most rewarding. She returned to the shop’s office to email several cooking schools to solicit a possible apprentice to assist now that her workload had increased.

  * * *

  It was after ten on a Friday night when Sasha sat on the front porch with Georgina, listening to her friend pour her heart out about wanting to open her own business without incurring her parents’ wrath. They were expecting her to take over managing the department store once they retired.

  “I sort of dropped a hint the other day and my mother went ballistic, telling me that I’m ungrateful, and that she and my father have sacrificed everything to keep the store afloat when they’ve had to compete with some of the larger department stores that went up on the interstate.”

  “Did you say anything about opening a shop in The Falls?”

  Georgina shook her head and closed her eyes. “No, because knowing my father, he probably would tell the landlord not to rent it to me. Don’t forget the Powell name goes a long way here in Wickham Falls.”

  Sasha nodded. Georgina’s father could trace his ancestry back to the early seventeenth century, when they sailed from Wales for the Colonies. They’d started out as pig and sheep farmers and as merchants following the Civil War, when they opened a blacksmith shop and then a feed store and general store.

  “Have you thought about setting up a shop in another town?” she asked.

  Georgina gave Sasha an incredulous stare. “Did you when you opened your bakeshop?”

  Sasha wanted to tell Georgina their conversation had nothing to do with her. “No.”

  “Why, Sasha?”

  “I only asked because you may have to deal with interference from your parents. Meanwhile, there’s just me and Mama, who was 100 percent behind me when I told her about my plans. But if you’re looking to challenge your parents to prove your independence, then do it.”

  A silence ensued until Georgina said, “You’re right about me wanting to be emancipated. I’m thirty-two years old and I’ve never left home. I can’t find and keep a steady boyfriend once they discover I’m still living with my parents. One guy even told me that I was a child trapped in a woman’s body.”

  Sasha grimaced. The remark may have been cruel, but she had to admit the man wasn’t that far from the truth. At her age, Georgina needed to demonstrate a modicum of independence or she would spend the rest of her life either resenting her parents or blaming herself for not following her dreams. However, Sasha realized it wasn’t easy to find enough strength to go through with changing one’s life.

  “What would you do if you were in my situation, Sasha?”

  “Do you have your own money?” Georgina nodded. “The first thing I’d do is move out. Let them get used to not seeing you except when you come to the store.”

  Running a hand over her hair, Georgina tucked a wayward curl that had escaped the elastic band behind her right ear. “You’re right.” She paused. “Maybe I’ll rent a place in Mineral Springs until I decide whether I want to live there permanently or move back to The Falls.”

  “That sounds like the beginning of a plan.”

  Sasha wondered if Georgina was serious about moving out of the house where she’d spent her entire life, or if saying it aloud made it sound more convincing. When most graduating seniors were planning the next phase of their lives to either enlist in the military, enroll in college, marry their high school sweethearts or seek employment outside of The Falls, Georgina had known exactly what she’d planned to do—work in Powell’s Department Store. She knew Georgina’s parents were devastated when their eldest son died from meningitis at the age of thirteen, which shifted the future responsibility of running the store to his younger sister.

  Georgina stood. “I’ve taken up enough of your time talking about my crazy life.”

  Sasha rose to her feet and hugged her friend. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, just let me know.” She smiled. “This too shall pass.” She waited until Georgina drove away before going into the house and locking the door. Charlotte hadn’t wanted her to move so far away, but there was nothing she could do or say to make her stay. She still remembered her father saying, If she wants to leave, then let her go. My boys left, so why not my daughter?

  She never regretted leaving The Falls, marrying and divorcing Grant or returning home. It was as if her life had come full circle, and in doing so Sasha was content with her new life. She didn’t have all the answers for Georgina except to offer moral support. And when she looked back, Sasha realized she had been a lot stronger at eighteen than her friend was now at thirty-two.

  The following night was the chamber dinner dance, and because Sasha had an appointment with the local salon to have her hair trimmed Saturday afternoon, Charlotte had volunteered to work until closing. Earlier in the week, Dwight had sent her a text indicating he would pick her up at seven. The chamber had chosen to hold the event at the newly constructed barn behind the Wolf Den rather than in the ballroom at their favorite hotel off the interstate.

  It had taken her a while to select a dress for the semiformal affair among the ones she’d shipped back from Nashville. Those she’d worn when attending award ceremonies or social events with Grant she had donated to an organization set up to provide prom dresses to girls from needy families, and those with price tags she’d kept.

  Sasha had admitted to Dwight that she was a country girl at heart, preferring going barefoot to wearing shoes. The only time she’d really dressed up was for prom, when Charlotte had driven her to a Charleston boutique where she could find a dress that had not come off the rack. She’d wanted only the best for her daughter’s big night.

  Now she was going to have another big night when she attended the fund-raiser as Dr. Dwight Adams’s date. Sasha had been so busy during the week she hadn’t had much time to think about her friend. And she’d come to think of him as her friend because she was pragmatic enough to know that friendship would be all they would ever share, no matter how much she wished for it to be otherwise.

  * * *

  Dwight knew he was gawking when Sasha opened the door. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, she’d morphed into someone he wouldn’t have recognized if it hadn’t been for her hair and eye color. Smoky-brown shadow on her lids and red-gold waves floating around her face held him spellbound. How, he thought, could she have suggested that he did not find her attractive? But whether fresh-faced without a hint of makeup, or now wearing eye shadow, tangerine-orange lipstick, a hint of blush and the curls that were now loose waves, Dwight had been truthful when he told Sasha it wasn’t about her looks but how they related to each other.

  “You look incredible!”

  The compliment had slipped out unbidden. The chocolate-brown off-the-shoulder dress with a revealing necklace was nipped at the waist and flowed out around her legs, drawing attention to Sasha’s tall, slender body. His gaze traveled downward to a pair of brown, silk-covered strappy stilettos that put her close to his height of six foot two.

  Smiling, Sasha held her arms out at her sides. “So, do I pass inspection, Major Adams?”

  His smile was dazzling. “You’re beyond anything I could’ve imagined, and I hope I don’t have to rough up a few guys crazy enough to
try to come on to my woman tonight.”

  Sasha’s smile faded quickly. “Am I your woman, Dwight? I thought we were friends.”

  He took her hands, bringing them to his mouth and gently kissing the knuckles. “That, too. But, for the benefit of others, tonight you’re my woman.”

  * * *

  Sasha felt a chill sweep over her body despite the warmth of the late-spring night. Dwight didn’t know how much she’d wanted to be his woman, girlfriend and lover if only to banish the pain she’d endured when married. But whenever she thought about a possible intimate relationship with Dwight, she did not want him to believe that she was using him to make up for what she hadn’t had with Grant. Images of the many times when she’d argued with Grant only hours before they were scheduled to appear in public together came to mind and she shook her head as if to banish them.

  Sasha forced a smile she didn’t quite feel. She picked up the cashmere-and-silk shawl and small beaded evening bag off the table near the door. “I know it now.” What she had to do was believe it. “I’m ready.” And she was. Ready to enjoy whatever the night offered and her time with a man she was falling for when she’d told herself over and over they could not have a relationship.

  Dwight rested his hand on the small of her back, leading her to where he’d parked his vehicle. He opened the passenger-side door and held her elbow until she was seated. She buckled her seat belt and looked out the windshield as Dwight slipped in behind the wheel rather than have him see her lusting after him.

  When she’d opened the door, she was able to take in everything about his appearance in one sweeping glance, committing it to memory: the stark white dress shirt with monogrammed cuff links, charcoal-gray silk tie under the spread collar, tailored suit pants and highly shined imported slip-ons. She could avoid looking at him but there was no way she could dismiss his warmth or the sensual masculine cologne that was the perfect complement to his body’s natural pheromones.

  Sasha realized she was no different than some of the women in her Nashville social circle whenever they’d gossiped to each other about being horny and wanting to sleep with men other than their husbands. There had come a time when she’d believed some of them had slept with her husband once she moved out of their bedroom. Sasha hadn’t missed the sly and surreptitious looks he’d exchanged with one woman, and it wasn’t until their divorce was finalized that Sasha’s suspicions were confirmed when they were seen coupled up together in public.

  Dwight rested his right arm over the back of her seat. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re rather quiet tonight.”

  “I was just thinking about a few things.”

  “Do those things have anything to do with us?” he asked.

  “Some of them.”

  “Do you want to talk about them?”

  Sasha knew what she was about to tell Dwight would either bring them closer together or apart. “Do you recall when I told you I didn’t want to talk about my ex?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, what I’m about to tell you I’ve only told one other person.”

  “Your mother?”

  Sasha breathed out an audible sigh as she gathered the strength to reveal to Dwight what she’d sworn never to repeat. She’d told her mother because she had a right to know why she’d come back to Wickham Falls to start up a business, and why she wasn’t the same as when she’d returned for the first time in seven years for her father’s funeral.

  She really didn’t want to disclose the circumstances surrounding what people thought of as a fairy-tale marriage between the cowboy and the redhead. But if she hoped to have an uncomplicated relationship with Dwight, then she wanted him to understand her reaction to certain scenarios.

  “Yes.”

  Dwight gave her a quick glance. “Why tell me, Sasha?”

  “Because of how I feel about you.”

  He slowed the Jeep to less than ten miles as he approached the railroad crossing and then, after looking in both directions, drove over the tracks. “And that is?”

  Sasha wanted to tell Dwight he wasn’t making it easy for her to tell him that she wanted to be more than friends. “I like you, Dwight.” Why, she chided, did she sound like an adolescent girl talking to a boy she had a crush on?

  He smiled, the dimple creasing his cheek. “That goes for both of us, because I like you, too, Sasha.”

  “I mean I really like you.”

  “Are you trying to say you want us to be more than just friends? That we could be friends with benefits?”

  The seconds ticked until it became a full minute. Answer the man, her inner voice taunted her. “Yes.”

  * * *

  Dwight dropped his arm and met her eyes briefly in the glow coming from the dashboard. He wondered what it had taken for her to admit she wanted to engage in a physical relationship. He wasn’t immune to Sasha. It was quite the contrary. There were nights when he woke up with an erection and in a cold sweat after he’d dreamed of making love with her. As a virile man in his prime, he’d always had a healthy libido, but since Kiera had come to live with him, he’d elected to remain celibate. He’d never slept with a woman in his home even before becoming a full-time father, preferring instead to entertain women at the lake house. And now that Kiera accompanied him for their fishing outings, even the lake house was off-limits for his clandestine liaisons.

  “Do you really believe that I’m that immune to you, Sasha? We’re both consenting adults, so sleeping together shouldn’t present a problem except that...” His words trailed off.

  Sasha placed her hand over his gripping the wheel. “Except that it would complicate everything if we decide to break up,” she said, finishing his statement.

  “Yes.”

  “But didn’t you say we are adults?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  “Then as adults we should not have to resort to childish tantrums or play head games where we try to make each other’s life miserable because we feel we’ve been wronged.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  Dwight came to a stop at the four-way intersection and waited for traffic to slow enough so he could drive across to the road leading to the Den. “I believe you, sweetie.” And he did. Not only did he believe Sasha, but he also appreciated her candor. He’d dealt with women closer to his age than Sasha’s and some of them made a habit of being evasive in the belief they were being mysterious, and it was a trait that annoyed him. “And you don’t have to tell me about your ex-husband because I’ve made it a practice not to discuss Kiera’s mother with women I go out with.”

  “Beginning now, talking about exes is prohibited,” Sasha said in a quiet voice.

  Dwight reversed their hands, his thumb caressing the silken skin and delicate bones on hers. He refused to talk about or bad-mouth Adrienne because he had always respected her as Kiera’s mother. His daughter was the best thing to come out of their marriage, and that was something he’d never regretted.

  He knew eventually he would be open to listening to Sasha talk about her ex, only because he was aware that she needed to unburden herself to someone other than her mother. However, he didn’t want to become a substitute or a catharsis for her to exorcise her ex.

  It had taken Dwight years to come to forgive Adrienne for her duplicity. He’d forgiven her for reversing her position to live in The Falls once he’d set up his practice, but what took much longer for him to accept was her admission that she’d slept with another man with whom she had attended college both while they were engaged and during their marriage.

  He didn’t want to speculate as to why Sasha’s marriage hadn’t survived the glare of the spotlight as one half of a very public couple. However, he knew what he felt and was beginning to feel about her had nothing to do with her past
fame as the go-to pastry chef for celebrities but how she related to him and his family.

  Dwight had made up a litany of excuses as to why he couldn’t afford to become that involved with Sasha and he knew each one rang hollow. He’d told himself that he didn’t want to date a woman in the same hometown as his, yet he’d taken Sasha with him to the Den for Military Monday and now she was his date for a local fund-raiser. He’d called her his woman, and to Dwight that meant she was very special—someone he wanted to see exclusively and protect.

  He’d conjured up a few roadblocks, the first being she looked nothing like the women he’d dated in the past, but all of them had dissipated like a puff of smoke the first time she came to his home with her mother. Dwight found everything about Sasha refreshing, from her admission that she was just a country girl who’d left the glare of the spotlight in Music City to return to The Falls, and her resolute motivation to make her bakeshop viable.

  And then there was Kiera. Any woman he dated had to accept his daughter because they were a package deal, and unknowingly Sasha had passed that test. Kiera tended to dominate their dinner table conversations when she could not stop talking about her boss and the fact that she was seriously thinking of going to culinary school to become a professional chef. When she’d mentioned her intentions to Sasha, the pastry chef told her she would bring her on as an apprentice to teach her the ins and outs of designing cakes. Sasha had also promised Kiera that she could begin giving her lessons in the summer during the days when the shop was closed, which had the teenager so excited she could hardly get the words out coherently.

  Dwight was proud of the changes he saw in Kiera. She’d stopped complaining that she had nothing to do because she loved her part-time job at the bakeshop, while she’d managed to maintain her honor student status. Her friendship with the neighbor’s daughter now included a few other girls in the neighborhood.