Miranda awoke to a pounding headache, and the high-pitched scream of her alarm clock. She rolled over and gave it a violent shake. It wasn't hard to roll over in bed when you were the only one in it.
She groaned and rubbed at her temples. No one to care what noises she made, either. Why did it have to be Saturday? Her busiest day.
One, two, three, four—five deliveries, she counted on her fingertips. And, if it was like every other Saturday for the last six years or so, someone was bound to come in looking for an emergency cake. An impromptu get together, a last-minute celebration—even on a couple of occasions to satisfy an expectant mother's cravings. She had learned early on to always keep some extras on hand for an unexpected customer.
She opened one eye and stole another glance at the clock. 7:00 a.m. By now, Max and Nancy would have taken Tommy out for an early breakfast, then to baseball practice, just like every other Saturday morning. They were such a big help to her. She and Tommy were lucky to have them around.
She wondered if Drew went along. He should have, if he was serious about getting closer to Tommy. Doubtful, though. He was probably still lying in some girl’s bed, probably a college student working at the Inn for the summer. Old enough to avoid any trouble with the law, or concerned parents, but young enough, and naive enough, to still view him through rose-colored glasses.
She couldn't help but scowl, as she threw the covers off and forced herself to get out of bed. What did she care what Drew was doing, anyway? She loved her life. She’d worked hard for it and wouldn't change a thing, but it still galled her that Drew always got to have all the fun he wanted, while she had to be the responsible one.
She stretched and patted her tummy. Not rock hard, by any means, but no signs of any leftover baby weight, either.
"Not bad for someone who's around cake and frosting all day," she said. Still, she had gone through child birth. Things weren't as toned as they used to be. She wondered what Jordan would think. Looking through the lens of a lover was different than looking through the lens of a friend. Would he notice all her flaws, or love her enough to look past them?
"Jumping the gun a little, don't you think?" she muttered. They'd barely kissed, and she had them looking at each other's naked bodies already.
She turned the faucet on and stepped into the tub, sighing as the warm water cascaded over her body. One of her few luxuries—a hot bath in peace on a Saturday morning. Still, as hard as she tried to relax, her mind wouldn't cooperate. It had been a long time since she had been with a man. Even longer since she had been physically intimate with anyone. That required a level of commitment she had not been ready to make. Was she even ready now? After all these years, was she ready to throw caution to the wind and open her heart to pain and disappointment? She wasn't sure. The one thing she was sure of was that Jordan would never deliberately hurt her and she had to try. She wanted to feel love again. Wanted to feel a man's strong arms around her and know that she meant everything in the world to him. She deserved it. She wanted to feel safe with the one man she knew would never let her down. Why was it, then, that every time she tried to think of Jordan, Drew's face kept popping into her head?
∞ ∞ ∞
"Oh, God," Miranda said. It was bad enough having to come down to work but seeing Drew sitting at the counter was almost too much.
"Good morning to you, too," he said.
"I'm sorry, Drew." She forced a smile. "It's just that I've got a rather busy day ahead and I don't have time for, um, entertaining today."
"I bet you'd have time for entertaining Jordan," he muttered.
"What's that?" she said. The clattering of pans and utensils as she prepared to bake partially masked his words, but she caught the gist of it.
"Nothing," he said. "How about some coffee? Can you throw in an aspirin while you're at it? I've got a serious headache."
"Aspirin's over there." Miranda nodded her head toward the window sill. "If you want coffee, go to the main kitchen and get it. I'm not your maid. Besides, I told you I have a lot of work to do." She pulled a tub of buttercream from the refrigerator and began to assemble the usual variety of plastic cones and metal tips. "What are you doing in here anyway? I thought you'd still be in bed."
"Couldn't sleep," he said. "Had a rough night."
So that was it. Just as she thought. Drew was tired, and he had a headache, which translated to a night of heavy drinking and partying with one of the local girls. Funny. She wanted to feel angry, but a wave of sadness washed over her instead. Steeling herself, she turned to face him. Her heart might be ripping in two, but she didn't intend on showing it.
"So, who was she this time?"
"What do you mean?"
"The girl. I'm assuming that's what you meant by having a rough night."
"Well, you assumed wrong."
"Drinking, then?" she asked. "Just as bad. Don't expect any sympathy from me."
"Sympathy is the last thing I expect from you, Mandy."
He was out of his chair and by her side in an instant. She could feel his anger before it registered on his face. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. Rather than fear, she felt strangely drawn to him. It disgusted her.
"I couldn't sleep because I was sick." His eyes locked with hers, and she couldn't look away. "I saw you last night, Mandy. I saw you kissing Jordan."
"How dare you!" She whirled away from him. "What makes you think you have the right to spy on me like that?"
"I wasn't spying on you. I was already outside and I saw you leave the Inn." His eyes cast downward, like he couldn't bear to look at her. "I never expected to see the two of you all over each other like a couple of teenagers."
"What I do—and who I do it with—is absolutely none of your business, Drew Elliott. You gave up that right a long time ago."
Drew's expression flickered between anger and sadness. She could handle the anger. It was the sadness that did her in. Anger, sarcasm, condescension—that was the Drew she could easily go on living without. But the sadness was new. It brought out his vulnerability. And, she suddenly realized, it made her ache for him in a way she had sworn never to do again.
She tried to walk away, but it was too late. He had already sensed her moment of weakness.
He made a low sound in the back of his throat, a growl of frustration and need, and pulled her to him once more. This time, his lips pressed against hers. Rough. Insistent. Claiming her as his own. Her brain was screaming at her to run, even while her lips parted for his kiss. Her heart sent her frantic warnings even as her body yielded to his, relishing the feeling of soft curves against strong muscles. She swore she would never be here again, allowing Drew to reach this part of her she had kept closed off from any other man for so long. But, she realized, she was helpless against him. She always had been, ever since she was a little girl chasing him through the orchard. It had never changed. She had just fooled herself into thinking it had.
He pulled back. Not enough for him to be able to look at her. Just far enough for him to speak. His breath warmed her lips as he whispered to her. "Promise me," he said. "Promise me you won't kiss him again. It drove me crazy seeing you like that, Mandy. Please."
She nodded. She would agree to anything at this point. It didn't matter what she had to promise.
She sighed as his lips caressed hers. It was different this time. Softer. More sensuous. Loving. She felt as if she were floating as his hands began their subtle exploration. She tugged his shirt out of the waist of his jeans and leaned into him, thrusting her hands beneath the cloth. Her fingers splayed across his chest, needing to touch him, to feel his skin upon hers. He groaned and lifted her to the stainless-steel counter. It was cold and hard, but she barely noticed.
The sound of Tommy's voice echoing down the hall brought them both to attention. Miranda's head snapped back, and she jumped from the counter, pushing Drew away from her in the process. Working quickly, she straightened her hair and threw an apron over her wrinkled clothes. She stiffened as Drew reached out to smooth some errant locks of hair into place.
"What are you doing, Drew?"
"I thought I was kissing you."
"That’s not what I mean." She shot him a quick glare, then got back to the task of trying to look busy before Tommy walked in. "Why are you messing with me? What are you trying to do?"
"It's not like I had to twist your arm."
That sarcastic smirk. That damn amused look that made her want to pummel him. He was right, though. She had to give him that. Who knows how far things might have gone if they hadn't heard Tommy's voice? She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Somebody had to be the voice of reason. It certainly wasn't going to be Drew.
"Look, this is partly my fault." She frowned at his short burst of laughter. "I should never have let it get this far, but in my defense, you caught me off guard. As long as you understand that this can never—ever—happen again, then I think we can go on about our lives and pretend this didn’t happen."
"Stop it." He grabbed her arm as she reached across the counter for the buttercream. "I want to be with you. This isn't a game for me."
"Isn't is, Drew?" She looked at him then, eyes misting, despite her best efforts. "Then, why now, when I'm finally ready to move on with my life?" She swallowed hard, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. "I waited for you, Drew. I waited for you to come back, but you never did."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Her heart twisted at his words. It took everything she had not to run to him.
"If you're sorry, then let me go. I don't want to waste any more time on a man who can't commit to more than a summer. I need to move on with my life."
"With Jordan, you mean?"
"Jordan is a good man," she said. "He's loyal and he's stable, and he loves me."
"But, you don't love him."
"You don't know that."
"I do know that, and so do you. It's not fair to him to make him think otherwise. It will never be like it is with you and me."
"You and me?" Her laugh sounded forced, full of all the self-doubt she was doing her best to keep at bay. "There hasn't been a 'you and me' for years, and there's not going to be."
Tommy and Jordan walked through the door together before Drew had a chance to respond. Jordan looked at the two of them, the air palpable with tension.
"Is everything all right, Miranda?" Jordan's question might be directed at her, but his gaze was focused on Drew.
"Everything is fine." Miranda smiled, convincingly, she hoped. "Drew just came by to see if he could take Tommy out to play."
"Is that right?" Jordan’s gaze was still firmly riveted on Drew.
"Something wrong with that?" Drew glared right back at Jordan. "What do you say, champ? Want to go out and shoot a few hoops?"
"I'll go get my basketball," Tommy said.
"Just take him to Kayla when you get tired of him, Drew," Miranda said. "Jordan and I have a lot of cakes to deliver today, and Kayla promised to watch him."
"What do you mean, when I get tired of him?" Drew's stare morphed from irritation to indignant. "He's my son. I can watch him just as well as Kayla."
Drew bristled at Jordan's snicker.
"Maybe you'd like to watch him tonight, too,” Jordan said. "Miranda and I have a date. We were going to make it a family thing with Tommy but as long as you don't mind..."
Miranda tensed, waiting for Drew's fists to start flying, or at the very least, for his mouth to start uttering some words she would rather her son didn't hear. To her surprise, he smiled instead. Which was even scarier.
"No problem buddy," Drew said. He patted Jordan on the back, grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door. "I'll be happy to take care of Tommy tonight."
∞ ∞ ∞
"What was that all about?" Jordan said.
"Oh, well, you know Drew." Miranda suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Today, it's an interest in Tommy. Tomorrow, it'll be something else."
"Or someone else," Jordan said. "What was going on between you two? Drew was obviously irked about something, and you look like you've been crying."
"I was crying," she said. A half-truth was better than an outright lie. "But not over anything related to Drew." She turned toward the sink, busying herself by filling some of the plastic tubes with buttercream. "I just hit my head on that awful loose board by the stairway again. I really have to do something about that."
"Oh." He almost sounded like he believed her. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I was more embarrassed by it than anything else. Then, Drew came along, and he caught me at a bad time, I guess."
"Well, the important thing is that you're okay. I'll have a look at that board on Monday."
"Thank you, Jordan." She wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. "What would I ever do without you?"
"Let's hope you never have to find out." He bent to kiss her cheek. "I'll go get the truck, so we can start loading those cakes. See you in a bit."
Her hand touched her cheek where Jordan had kissed her. It was warm and nice, but nothing like the fiery trail Drew's kisses had left behind. What was she going to do? She knew Drew. He wasn't going to give up so easily. Still, she had made her choice. She had made the mistake of trusting him once. It wouldn't happen again.