Chapter Ten
Maddie peeked out from the kitchen’s swinging double doors for the hundredth time Sunday, watching for Cole. He’d perked up after his Eeyore-like behavior on Wednesday, and for good reason—he’d found a way to get the lease on his shop downtown. He dove into renovations the minute he had its keys in hand, leaving him weary but jovial for his evening shifts at the inn. Though she worried he’d request to reduce his hours, so far he’d insisted the two jobs wouldn’t conflict.
She hoped to heck he was right. Cole had quickly become a staple in her kitchen, always stepping up to help whenever she needed it and not once had he complained in the slightest. He was great at playing the role of guinea pig, too, helping taste test her seasoning of dishes or experimentations on new ones, and unafraid to give honest feedback. So far, she hadn’t disagreed with any of his assessments. But above all, he was quickly becoming a trusted friend. Someone she felt comfortable to confide in about feelings and emotions—when she felt comfortable enough to voice them, that was.
And that scarecrow sketch he’d left for her the other day? Well, that was about the best, silliest gift she’d received in a long while. Made her chuckle every time she saw it, now at home hanging on the side of her fridge.
Silly sketches aside, Maddie couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for her friend, knowing how huge it was to catch a break when chasing after your hopes and dreams. And though she still had gotten very little out of him on his history, he was starting to open up here and there to her.
From the sounds of it, he hadn’t had a stellar childhood, either. Lots of relocating, little time to make new friends, doing tons of chores and odd jobs to help support his mom. It seemed odd to her that he referred to his mother as Daisy Mae. Though, the Masterson boys called their grandmother by her first name, so maybe it was just the way things worked in other families. But grandparents were different in her mind, sometimes adding in a first/last name to the mix to keep them straight. Most kids grew up with two sets, after all. Her Grandma Bea had been one of two for her, though the other had passed away when Maddie was fairly young. By then, Grandma Bea’s name had stuck, and that’s how it stayed.
This week, she’d thought of her often, wondering what Bea’s take on Tyson would have been. Sure, he was friendly enough. Had a warm smile and killer physique. But there was something missing so far between them. There’d been no spark, no instant attraction. And while, yes, they’d exchanged digits yesterday afternoon thanks to Cole’s coaching, and yes, he’d proposed via text this morning that they go out and grab a cup of coffee tomorrow between her lunch and dinner shifts, she didn’t feel nearly as excited about it as she’d expected.
More like scared to death.
She paced the kitchen floor, re-checked her lunch roast for the dozenth time, then returned to the door. How long did it take people to move from the yard to the dining room, anyway? She’d snuck away before the closing prayer in anticipation of the smaller-than-usual crowd wanting a quick meal to warm them from the brisk October morn, but they seemed to be moving slower than molasses today.
To add to her irritation, she’d discovered another item missing from her kitchen—her favorite whisk, the one with the red handle that fit her hand perfectly. She swore she’d just used it a day or two ago, so unless it’d walked off on its own, it had to be in here somewhere. Maybe Cole knew where it was? Yet another reason she needed to track him down at lunch.
Voices sounded from the lobby, and she spied Brent and Kayla leading the way. No surprise there—Brent was an eating machine. Miles and Stephanie were close behind, followed by a few of this weekend’s newest arrivals at the inn. Last came Ruby and Tom and…no Cole.
Maddie frowned. Maybe he’d had to use the restroom or something. He never turned down one of their Sunday lunches.
She headed out with baskets of rolls and butter, playing the part of chef and waitstaff as it was custom on Sundays to serve the meal family style, and angled for Tom’s table first.
“A moving message as always, Mr. Granville.” She offered him a polite smile. His messages had grown a bit longer lately, cutting a bit closer to the quick with all their talk of forgiveness and acceptance of those different from us. His prerogative, she guessed. “Did your grandson get lost on the way back in?”
Old Tom offered her a gracious smile. “Thank you, Madelyn. I’m afraid Cole won’t be joining us for lunch today. He has a lot to do before the arrival of his first student tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” She nearly dropped the breadbasket. “B-but he’s not ready for customers yet, is he? If he opens his doors before the shop’s fully set up it could hurt his business.”
“Oh, the grand opening isn’t set to happen for a few more weeks. But one of the students he’d talked to a short while back saw him in there working and asked if he could get started right away.” He leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “Seems he’s trying to impress a lady friend, who’s requested a serenade.”
“So in other words, the guy lied and she called him out,” Maddie said.
Mr. Granville shrugged, but Ruby chuckled at his side. “When the love bug bites, people are known to say and do the craziest things.”
“All the more reason to wear bug repellant.” Maddie frowned. “Knowing Cole, he’ll work until he drops and probably didn’t pack a single thing to eat.”
“Why don’t you take him some of our leftovers, dear, on your way home,” said Ruby.
Maddie met her gaze, knowing darned well what the old innkeeper was up to. But she needed to talk to Cole, to get his advice on what to say and do on her coffee date tomorrow. Maybe bringing her relationship coach some sustenance would give him reason to shift gears from hard labor to soft skills training for a few minutes, anyway.
“You don’t need me back in here tonight, correct?”
“No,” Ruby said. “We’ve only a few guests until the bus tour group arrives tomorrow. Leave me a dinner suggestion on the refrigerator, something simple that serves eight to ten, and I’ll see to that.”
Maddie nodded and moved on, placing the remaining breadbaskets at even intervals the length of the long table. Cole wouldn’t mind her stopping by with food, would he? No, she couldn’t imagine him turning her away. That thought brought her an unexpected amount of relief. She needed to see him, to hear his words of reassurance about tomorrow’s date, no matter how jokingly they were delivered.
Yes, that was why she needed to see him. For advice. About Tyson. Not because she had trouble not thinking about Cole when he wasn’t around. No, that couldn’t be it. Only, the more she thought about it, the more worried she grew that her needing to see him was more likely her wanting to see him because she missed him when he was gone. And that idea scared her far more than any silly coffee date with Tyson.
Because Tyson was an experiment. But Cole?
Cole was real.
…
Cole straightened from the low shelf he’d just installed in his front window display, wiping sweat from his brow. At least he’d managed not to cut himself on this one. He learned the hard way with the other two sets that maybe reading the instructions wasn’t such a bad idea after all and gained a new appreciation of the saying “blood, sweat, and tears.” But he’d take his lumps and then some if it got him what he wanted most of all: his own shop, in his own community.
A place where he could finally belong.
He hated leaving the inn before getting a chance to talk to Maddie, though. She was always busy on Sunday mornings, between doing her work to feed the breakfast crowd and then preparing for an unknown number of diners at Ruby’s open luncheons, but it never seemed to bother her. At those times, she was in her element—focused, intense. Today had been no different. She’d snuck in after he’d started playing before the service, and back out before his grandfather’s closing prayer. And while he should have known to expect as much, not getting to talk to her before he left had him feeling unusually empty this afternoon.
Why, exactly, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like they were best friends or anything. Just a boss and her subordinate.
Bull, said a voice in the back of his mind. A voice he did his best to ignore. So what if he enjoyed her company? If he thought she was pretty and funny and smart and witty and…
Oh no.
Cole ran a hand through his hair. He could not allow himself to fall for the woman he’d promised to set up with someone else. Talk about masochistic—that’d be like volunteering to have your heart torn in two.
No, he needed to be smarter than that. Cautious. Besides, it was clear she didn’t feel the same way. No, she’d lit up with excitement retelling him how his suggestions had helped her catch Tyson’s eye in the laundromat earlier this week, and how the ball had kept rolling with an exchange of phone numbers when she saw him yesterday. The news brought color to her cheeks, and managed to dissolve the serious look she wore a bit too often. Clearly, Cole’s coaching was working.
Yep, Tyson was going to be one lucky guy if he truly did have two brain cells in that muscle-minded head of his. A woman like Maddie wasn’t for the weak of heart or spine, but Cole would bet anything she’d be committed and all in on any relationship, just like she was at the Checkerberry Inn.
He tried to picture it—him in a committed relationship. One that didn’t involve moving every six months, or getting interrupted by family life. A future with a wife, maybe some rug rats eventually, and an honest-to-God home. A modest one, but with a sprawling lawn and large master bedroom, perfect for spending rainy days under covers, exploring curves, and lips, and…
Knocking sounded on the window before him, startling him out of his daydream. His gaze came into focus on a familiar pretty face, rosy from the cool air but adorned with a broad smile. Cole felt his own cheeks warm as Maddie held up what appeared to be a doggy bag from the inn. He hurried to the door and flipped the deadbolt.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, not bothering to hide his natural southern drawl, “but the store here’s closed on Sundays.”
She arched a brow, hand on her hip. “Well that’s too bad, sugar, because I thought somebody could use a bit of food to stick to their ribs.”
Sugar. Okay, her calling him pet names—terrible accent or not—wasn’t going to help him keep his head on straight. He swallowed hard and tried to stay focused on playing the role of…well, what was his role today? It wasn’t kitchen help. She must have heard from Tyson and needed some more dating advice. He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped aside to let her in.
“Food? Yeah, guess I’d forgotten about that.”
“Of course you did. You’re male and you’re in ‘go’ mode. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a hundred times. Brent’s notorious for it. Gotta force the issue to keep you all from getting hangry.”
“Hangry?”
“You know, angry and grouchy because you’re hungry? I know I get that way.”
Cole grinned. “You don’t say.”
“Watch it, buddy—I haven’t fed you yet.”
“Good point.”
Maddie set the bag down on a small folding table Cole had been using as a desk and looked around.
“Wow, Cole, things are really starting to take shape in here.”
He gave the same space a skeptical look. Even after all the demolition and scrubbing and framing and painting he’d done, it still was nothing like what he envisioned. “You think?”
“Oh yeah. Looks a million times better than the shop in here before ever did.” She smiled. “Your neighbors will be thrilled to have a classy tenant beside them.”
I sure hope so. “Well, I’ve got a long ways to go yet. Hopefully they’ll be patient with me. Some of the finishing touches will have to wait until lesson money starts coming in.”
Maddie nodded, took a seat in one of the two small stools he’d bought to eventually go in the lesson rooms, and began unpacking the food she’d brought. Was that roast he smelled? Cole’s mouth began to water. He set down his borrowed power driver and made for the table. Tyson better love to eat, because his soon-to-be-girlfriend is a freaking miracle worker in the kitchen.
“Speaking of which, your grandfather mentioned you had a student starting already tomorrow?”
“Yep. Wilson McCain tomorrow, and Sienna…something…on Tuesday.”
“I heard about ’ole Will. How’d you find the other?”
Cole shrugged. “She heard me play at an open mic session on campus a few weeks back, said she was looking for a new instructor. I took down her name and number, said I’d reach out if and when the shop came to be. She seemed pretty excited about it when I called yesterday.”
Maddie slid a plate in front of him then fished out a plastic fork and knife from the bag. “Oh, I bet she was.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Maddie just shook her head and grinned. “If you don’t know, I’m not gonna tell you, Mr. Relationship Coach.”
“You think she’s taking lessons just to flirt with me?”
Maddie arched one brow.
“Oh, whatever,” he said and dug into his meal. “Money’s money, right?”
“Uh-huh. So how many other students jumped at the chance for a little one-on-one studio time with the soon-to-be-infamous Cole Granville, hmm? Surely Sierra wasn’t the only one.”
“Sienna. And is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
Maddie’s cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. “Don’t flatter yourself, buddy. I’m just saying when a, well, someone who looks, and then calls… Oh, just trust me when I say she won’t be the only one with boobs who signs up.”
“Men have boobs, too, you know. I’ll prove it, if you like.”
“Good lord, keep your shirt on. I know darned well what men do and don’t have.”
Her cheeks darkened even more. Okay, so he probably shouldn’t have said that. But he was riding high on hope and opportunities and in too good a mood to keep it bottled up. Besides, she was cute when disarmed, and Maddie disarmament didn’t happen often.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my third student starts on Wednesday, and his name is Butch.”
A smirk broke through the scowl on her face. “Butch?” She snickered. “Did you pick him up in a bar on campus, too?”
“Touché, touché.” Cole popped a fork full of roast into his mouth and savored the way it melted on his tongue. He hadn’t planned on working at the Checkerberry beyond this season, but if coming back in the spring would guarantee him a daily supply of Maddie’s cooking, it might well be worth it. If he didn’t tick her off one too many times between now and then, of course. “So, what really brought you by? Did he text you?”
“Oh. Yeah, actually he did.”
The smirk faded into something much more…hesitant. Why did she do that, wield confidence like a sword in the kitchen but be timid as a mouse outside of it?
“And?”
She rubbed one arm up and down along the other. “Well, he kind of invited me out to coffee Tuesday. Between my lunch and dinner shifts.”
Success! So why didn’t he feel like giving her a high five? This is what she wanted, right? Because it’s not what you want, whispered that pesky little voice again. He gave it a mental shove aside and did his best to look and sound happy for her.
“That’s great! See? I told you if we got you two conversing things would take off in no time.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to sit there in some cramped coffee shop trying to think of non stupid-sounding things to say.”
Cole chewed and swallowed his latest bite, shaking his head. “What? Since when do you struggle thinking of things to say?”
“Since always.” She looked down.
“You never have that problem with me.”
“Because you’re…different.”
Take that, Tyson. Maddie doesn’t have to work to enjoy herself with me.
He shook his head, trying to get his mind back on track. This is not about me, this is not about me…
“Not like bad, different,” she continued with a grimace. “Just, well, we work together. Have a common bond.”
“And you and Tyson use the same fabric softener.” He shrugged. She threw him a dark look. “Seriously, Madds, the guy is human, just like me, just like you. And he likes to cook or whatever. There’s something you can definitely talk about.”
“I guess so.”
Her gaze shifted to her lap. Cole finished the rest of his meal and pushed the plate away, his protective instincts scratching at his subconscious. There was more to her worries, something from her past that’d scared her off. He felt a sudden desire to hunt down the bastard who’d hurt her, who’d stolen her smile. Now that would be something worth doing time for.
“What was his name, Maddie?” he asked softly.
She looked up. “Sorry?”
“His name. The guy that hurt you in the past.”
“Oh. It wasn’t like that, it just…” She shook her head and looked out the storefront window. After a long moment, she spoke again. “His name was Harrison. We, uh, went to culinary school together. He seemed like the perfect guy: smart, handsome, and knowledgeable about the kitchen. When he chose the open spot next to me in a class, well, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
She grinned at a private joke, then offered him a fleeting glance before returning her gaze to the view of downtown. “See, growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends. My parents were gone for long periods of times overseas—entrepreneurs with no time for an unplanned kid—and my grandmother needed help in her bakery. So when I wasn’t at school, I was helping her. And truly, I didn’t mind—it’s where my love for cooking began. But it wasn’t so good for my social life.
“Harrison said he understood, his childhood had been rough, too. Said he needed to do well in school to keep his scholarship.” She cast Cole a bitter smile. “He said a lot of things I wanted to hear. Unfortunately, naive me didn’t realize it was all baloney until after he stole my original recipe at the end of the semester and walked away the class star.”
Cole’s hands balled into fists. It was a good thing he didn’t know this jerk’s last name. A very good thing. Texas justice wasn’t the same as it was up here. That douchebag wouldn’t know what’d hit him.
She barked a humorless laugh. “Yep, Fattie Maddie had been played like a fiddle and tossed aside the minute he aced his project.”
“Don’t. You’re not fat.”
“I’m not exactly skinny by today’s standards, either. You know what he told me when I confronted him? When I called him everything but white in the parking lot that day?”
He didn’t want to know, was afraid of what he might do if he heard. But she needed to get this off her chest, needed to vent. Hopefully, him listening would help. “No, what?”
“That he was glad the class was over, so he could go back to sleeping with women his preferred size.” She shook her head. “I was a little heavier back then, but—”
“Stop right there. No woman should be talked to like that. Ever.”
Maddie shrugged and Cole worked to keep his temper in check. He’d encountered enough men like this Harrison in his youth, men who had talked down to his mother. Slapped her around when she didn’t say what they wanted to hear or do what they wanted her to do. Apparently bullies came in all shapes, sizes, and socio-economic classes after all.
Cole found his resolve to set Maddie up with Tyson renewed. She deserved to be with someone who made her happy. Made her feel valued, desired. And if that muscle-head didn’t fit the bill, then Cole would find someone who would.
“Harrison was a complete and total idiot. If he couldn’t see what an amazing woman you are both inside and out, then it’s his loss, not yours. Though, for his sake? We’d better not cross paths in any dark alleys down the road.” Her eyes widened and Cole regretted saying that last part aloud. “But none of that matters anymore. He’s history, and you’re moving on.”
She blinked away whatever thought she’d gotten lost in. “I am?”
“Yep. In fact, I predict you’re going to nail this coffee date Tuesday. Tyson will be wrapped around your little finger before either of you finish your drinks. Why, he’ll be begging to go to the dance with you.”
“The dance! Oh my gosh, it’s in less than three weeks!”
“Time to step up our game, Maddie. And with my coaching, you can’t go wrong.”
“Thanks, Cole.” She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, her face turned from his as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. “You’re the best.”
He swallowed hard, slow to embrace her as his heart stuttered from the unexpected display of affection. She smelled of sweets and sunshine, her hair of flowers and flour. And her body, though coming at him from an awkward angle, felt so right in his arms.
Oh yeah, he was a goner. Too bad she didn’t feel the same way about him.
“Anytime, Maddie,” he said, pulling her closer to savor the moment, fleeting as it may be. “Anytime.”