Chapter Twenty-five
When Saxon woke up, Gemma was already gone. The sheets she'd slept on were cold, telling him she'd been gone for a while.
It was only six and too early to pay a visit, but he didn't care. He washed up and threw on enough clothes to be presentable, then jogged across the street.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla reached him before he hit the front lawn. He followed his nose around to the back where the kitchen was, and saw that the window over the sink was open. That was the source of the amazing scents.
He saw movement inside, so opted for tapping quietly on the back door that led into the kitchen.
Gemma opened the door, her face flushed and eyes shining. "Good morning," she greeted him with a smile and stepped back to give him room to come in.
His heart kicked hard. She hadn't snuck out of bed to avoid him at all. She'd simply left to start working.
She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Hungry?"
"Always." Now that he smelled the kitchen, his mouth was watering for more than a taste of her.
She grabbed a couple of muffins out of their tins, dropping them onto the plate quickly. She set them in front of him. Steam rose from the tops, which were covered in some kind of caramelized sugar concoction.
"Coffee or milk?" she asked.
"Coffee."
She bustled around the kitchen, pouring him coffee and adding a splash of milk, the way he liked it.
That she'd remember such a small detail pleased him.
"How long have you been up?" he asked.
"Since four. Lots to do. I volunteered to provide some of the food for the Summer Kickoff Festival."
He'd been so swept up in his own problems, he'd almost forgotten about the town tradition of celebrating their last weekend before the floodgates opened and people from around the world swarmed in to enjoy the lake, the crystal caves, and related tourist attractions. It was their last weekend of empty streets and closed businesses. Between Memorial Day weekend and Labor Day weekend, everyone was open for the season. No breaks or vacations—not if they wanted to take advantage of all the tourism dollars flooding in.
"You're not too busy to help?" he asked.
She grimaced. "I wanted to be busier, prepping the bakery for its grand re-opening next weekend, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen."
"I've gone to town hall every day. Jessup still claims his schedule is too full to take a few minutes to do the inspection, even though he always seems to be sitting around when I find him."
Gemma pointed to a stack of white cardboard boxes. "Rather than working to get him fired, I decided to try honey instead of vinegar. I'm stocking his wife's café at a discount, hoping that will sway his decision. Surely his wife will put in a good word, right?"
"That is how small-town politics work. But with Jessup, I wouldn't count on it."
Her shoulders sagged. "That's what I feared. Ah, well. I'm still doing a good thing and making a profit—albeit a tiny one. If the café can draw in some fresh blood, they'll be set. All people have to do is try their coffee and they'll be hooked."
"Is Flora jealous that you're helping the enemy?"
"Not at all. She says that no coffee in the world can compete with a slice of bacon, so she's safe."
Saxon grinned as he tore off the paper muffin liner. "That sounds like her. Fearless."
"I wish it would rub off on me. I'm still too gutless to break the bad news about the bakery to Aunt Beth."
"She doesn't know it's not going to be done in time?" he asked.
He took the first bite of muffin and came a little from the glorious taste of sweet cinnamon spiced heaven.
Damn, but the woman could cook.
Gemma shook her head. "I can't break her heart like that. I just can't. I keep hoping that Jessup will find a soul before it's too late to get the work done."
Saxon wouldn't bet on it, but he'd make another attempt today to get the man to do the right thing.
Gemma veered into his orbit. He reached out an arm and grabbed her by the waist. She landed on his lap as he'd intended, her delicious scent filling his head.
There was a streak of flour on her forehead, and even though she wasn't glammed up, she was still so beautiful he couldn't believe she was real.
He only wished she was his.
She laughed and swatted at his chest. "No time for that now," she said. "You'll have to tuck your libido in a box for a while. Want me to come over again tonight? You can take it out again then." She waggled her eyebrows.
"Dinner?" he asked, planning where he could take her out to eat that would compare to what she was used to eating.
"I was thinking a little later. How's ten?"
His good mood faltered as he realized her intent. "Another booty call?"
"Unless you're too tired from last night." She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "We could try for three orgasms. Set a new record."
"I'm busy," he heard himself saying, even though it was a lie.
"Not too busy for dinner."
"A man's gotta eat."
"He's also gotta fuc—"
Aunt Beth shuffled into the room, her walker in the lead. "Good morning, Saxon. Nice to see you here so bright and early."
"I was just on my way out," he said, his tone colder than he would have liked.
Aunt Beth frowned. "Oh. Okay. Come around anytime."
Saxon walked out the door and didn't look back.
He'd been a fool to think anything had changed simply because of a night of awesome sex.
***
Aunt Beth settled slowly at the kitchen table. "Gemma, why does that very nice man look at you like you kicked his dog…twice?"
Gemma thought things had smoothed out between her and Saxon. He'd been flirty and back to his easygoing self this morning.
Right up to the point where she turned down his invitation to dinner.
She was still planning to sleep with him, so she didn't understand why he would be upset.
"I'm not really sure," Gemma said.
"Could it have anything to do with you leaving his bed at such an early hour?"
Gemma's face heated. She and her aunt had talked about a lot of things, including the big things, but never about her sex life. There was an invisible line right in front of that topic, barring it from all conversation.
"Don't be a ninny," Aunt Beth said. "I'd hit that if I were a few decades younger and had both my original hips."
Gemma's blush burned hotter. "I really don't feel comfortable talking about it with you."
"If not me, then who?" she spread her wrinkled hands wide. "I don't see anyone else here. I know you've been hanging out at the diner with Flora a little, but I really doubt she wants to hear about her brother's sex life."
Gemma poured her aunt a cup of coffee, then refilled her own. She sat where Saxon had been and toyed with the remains of his muffin.
"I don't want to get involved with him."
"I heard you leave last night before nine. I heard you come in around four this morning. That's pretty involved."
"That's just sex. I mean involved emotionally—the kind of involvement that will make it hard for me to go back to my real life."
"So, when it comes to Saxon, you plan to hit it and quit it, as they say on the daytime TV."
Gemma grinned. She couldn't help it. It wasn't every day that her septuagenarian aunt talked like some kind of hood rat. "It's not like that."
"Then tell me how it is." Unblinking, non-judgmental.
Gemma opened her mouth, then when no words came, closed it again. "I don't know."
"Well, I do. I've lived across the street from that man for years now. There is no string of women trailing behind him, unless you count Lulu, who had a raging case of googly eyes for Saxon. He dates, but usually sticks with the same woman for a while if she's good enough to make it to his bed. He doesn't do casual relationships."
"Well, maybe it's time he tried one, just to see if he likes it."
Aunt Beth sighed. "Honey, he may be a man, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a heart. All of those Grace boys have big hearts. They were raised right by parents who loved them and each other. They know what a committed relationship looks like and would be fools if they didn't want one for themselves. And those boys are no fools."
"I told him where I stood. That I wasn't staying here. And it's not like he can up and move to St. Louis when he has a business to run here."
"Just because you told him doesn't mean he likes it."
"He slept with me," Gemma said, her face still hot from talking so openly with her aunt. "Twice. Isn't that implied consent that he's okay with a casual relationship?"
"I know the way things work now. You young people lead with your genitals and then the rest comes after. Maybe he's hoping that will happen with the two of you—that the rest will come if he keeps sleeping with you. That you'll date him. Maybe even come to care for him."
Was that what Saxon was doing? He had asked her out to dinner.
She'd turned him down and that's when he'd gone cold.
"I think you may be right, Aunt Beth," Gemma said, her heart pounding. "And if that's the case, then I have to end it. I can't keep leading him on."
"You're not even willing to give him a chance?"
"For what? A long-distance relationship with a woman too busy to even take weekends off? In what universe would that ever work?"
Aunt Beth lowered her gaze to the table. "Whisper Lake isn't so bad. I know your career is important to you, but—"
"No buts. My career is everything. Without it, I'm just a girl who let her parents down by not doing more with my life."
"You haven't let them down, honey."
"You know I have. They always wanted me to follow in their footsteps. Do great things. Solve world hunger, cure cancer. Something that would make them proud." Tears stung her eyes despite the fact that this was an old wound. "If I can work my way up to the top of my field, maybe even gain a bit of celebrity in local circles…they'll have to be proud of me for what I've accomplished."
Aunt Beth took Gemma's hands in her own, cradling them the way she had when they were much, much smaller. Her voice was gentle and cracked with age. "Sweetheart, if they aren't proud of you for the smart, kind, selfless, hardworking woman you've become, then no amount of success in any job will ever please them. Do you really want to give up what makes you happy for the hope of something your parents are unable to give?"
Gemma's tears fell then, hot and fast. She wiped them away, sniffed and stood. When her back was finally turned, giving her a sliver of privacy, she was able to speak. Her voice was weak and wavering—small, like that of a child. "I'm afraid that without their approval, Aunt Beth, I'll never truly be happy. What choice do I have but to seek it?"
***
Beth waited until Gemma had left to run errands before she made the call.
Alistair Grace, the aging patriarch of the Grace family, answered on the second ring.
"Beth Fortier," he greeted warmly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"
"It's the kids, Alistair. Gemma and Saxon. I'm afraid they're making a mess of things and I think we should put our noses right in the middle of it."
Alistair didn't even hesitate. "I'm in. Tell me everything."