Chapter Seventeen
He didn’t think it possible, but Wes was more nervous this time around than the last. The first Bake-Off was terrifying, yes, but the second one was being held at The Main Street Diner where the owner, Gabriella Marco, went through a laundry list of instructions for them before they could even enter the building. She was a pleasant woman, and Wes could respect her wanting to protect her business. But trying to remember all she was saying was close to impossible with his mind focused on the recipe as well as whether Noelle would show up for the event or not.
He’d been unable to find her after the performance the night before. And it wasn’t from lack of trying on his part. He’d waited for almost forty minutes. But if she wasn’t surrounded by parents and people giving their kudos or congratulations, she was in stealth mode, disappearing if he looked away from her at any point.
By the time the crowd had dwindled down, Annalise was exhausted, having crashed in her dad’s arms after coming down from the adrenaline of the night, along with a sugar rush from eating loads of cookies someone had provided for the event. Mike and his dad were ready to go and Wes didn’t see the point in trying to stay. As much as he wanted to see Noelle—fix things—it wasn’t the time. She had to have been dead on her feet.
What he wouldn’t give to be able to run her a bubble bath, pour her a glass of wine, pamper her a little, then tuck her in for the night. He could’ve if he’d played his cards better. Although he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d played his hand all that wrong.
He did have every intention of finding Spellman while he was in Marietta. Wes’s dad said they’d talked and his plans were to be in town one more day. Wes wanted another meeting. It wasn’t unheard of for the director to want to see where he was buying property and setting his next film, but the fact that Spellman didn’t say a word about his visit when they met in New York rubbed Wes wrong. Or maybe Noelle being mad at him had him second-guessing things he wouldn’t normally second-guess.
Man, he was a mess. Jodie Monroe, the MC for the Bake-Off, clapped for everyone’s attention, snapping Wes back to the hell that was his current situation. He didn’t have time for this. He had business to attend to and things to work out with Noelle; he didn’t need to be stuck behind the counter at a diner about to bake a damn pie.
Annalise waved her little hand so hard at him that her whole body shook in Mike’s arms. Mike was holding her up so she could see. His dad stood beside them, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. Wes shook his head. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around how much things had changed in such a short period of time. He’d come to town thinking he’d be there a few days at the most then fly home to New York. And yet here he stood, in the middle of a diner in Marietta, Montana, with his dad smiling at him and his niece cheering him on. It would almost be comical if it didn’t feel so…right.
He took in a deep breath and let it out. Home. He’d always thought of New York as home, but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d always thought his dad a tough man, unmovable in his mindset on, well, on anything and now here he was, living in Montana, building a new existence in a small town. Stranger things happen, he guessed. And Mike with Annalise, doing life without Anna. Not by choice, of course, but staying strong for his daughter and making a life for her, for both of them, out of the pieces that had fallen apart.
Could Wes make a change too? More and more the town grew on him and if he were honest, he’d admit that being around his family again brought a peace he hadn’t had in a long time. Not since before his mother got sick.
Hell, since he was spewing honesty left and right to himself, he’d also have to admit that Noelle was a huge part of him wanting something else. Something more. Never before had a woman made him want to do his life differently. With Noelle, he’d travel the world, give her the moon, or settle right there in Marietta in a cozy place all their own. As long as she was with him, that was all that mattered.
His sterile, perfectly designed apartment had little appeal anymore. That nugget of truth had hit him between the eyes when they’d gone back. Having Noelle in his home, what he’d thought of as home, made him see it through new eyes. Her warmth and gentle spirit made him see his world for what it was—cold and lifeless. As much as he’d always enjoyed his work, he didn’t have much else. But he was good at business, good at his work. He sucked at relationships. That was one main reason he didn’t venture into them often. And he’d proven how much he botched them with how he’d handled things with Noelle.
“You may begin.” The MC’s words brought him back to where he stood. Crap. He’d gone daydreaming about a life with Noelle and lost all track of what was happening around him. The Bake-Off was starting and his mind was anywhere but there.
While reading over the recipe once more, he got his apron on and tied. All the ingredients were there so he got them measured and prepped like Noelle had taught him.
“You can do it, Uncle Dubs!” Annalise cheered from the other side of the room. People smiled and laughed. Wes looked up and winked at her. As he did, he caught sight of Noelle, tucked in the corner of the diner, her coat still around her, a pink scarf wrapped around her neck. She must’ve ducked inside when he was focused on ingredients.
Their eyes met. He searched for answers. Was she still angry? Was she here to support him or throw baked goods at him? She blinked then looked away as someone moved past her and she scooted aside to let them pass.
Wes went back to baking. It had to be a good sign that she was there, right? He looked up again and saw that Holly had come in and was beside Noelle. Maybe Holly convinced her sister to come. But that was still good. It had to be. It took Herculean mental strength for him to focus on his task, but he did so because he was madly in love with the woman watching him and if he was lucky, she’d help him with one more round of this crazy Bake-Off and maybe he’d have a chance to win her back.
*
Noelle stood in the corner of the diner and questioned her sanity. Or at least her willingness to always let her sister talk her into things.
“You’re glad you’re here. Admit it.”
“I admit nothing.”
Holly rolled her eyes, giving Noelle flashbacks to the night that started it all. The night they’d gone to Grey’s to meet new people and Noelle had danced for the first time with Wes.
“I still don’t see why you’re so upset with the guy.” Holly stood beside her.
The two of them peered over shoulders to see. The diner was packed. Noelle was glad she’d taught Wes to bake in her kitchen this time. Where the bachelors were working was a diminutive space for sure.
“It looks like he’s doing well. You’re a good teacher.”
“Thanks.” Noelle was glad her sister had moved on from giving her grief for being upset with Wes. They’d talked that morning, Noelle having slept like a rock the night before. The performance had gone off without a hitch and—feeling as if she were made of lead—she’d fallen into bed and didn’t stir for ten hours. It was glorious. She rubbed her right thigh. Happy as she was that all went well, her leg was pretty sore.
“You okay?” Holly had a sixth sense about Noelle’s health. If Noelle even thought her leg was hurting Holly would know before Noelle ever spoke a word. She hadn’t seen Noelle rub her leg and yet she knew.
“Yes. Fine.”
They watched as each bachelor mixed ingredients and moved around. Noelle’s eyes were fixed on Wes getting the caramel just right. Memories of him, his lips and tongue kissing caramel from her lips, made her too warm for her coat. She peeled it off and draped it over her arm. Okay. So. She still had feelings for the man. Attraction. But that didn’t mean they were meant for each other. She’d been attracted to men before who for sure were not right for her. And yet, she’d never been pulled toward someone like this, even when she felt she couldn’t trust him.
“Stop overthinking.”
“I’m not.” Man, she hated when her sister read her mind like that.
“Yes you are. I’m not even looking at you and I can tell. My attention is on these hot guys baking, Lord help us all, and the tension from your overthinking is palpable.”
The two sisters had sat over breakfast that morning going over—again—why Noelle was hurt and how Holly thought she was overreacting. Noelle would rather die than admit it, but the more she thought it through, when she’d hashed out the story one more time with Holly, her hurt was waning. Had she really been too hard on the guy? From what she could tell of Ronald Spellman the night before, he was a Hollywood director who didn’t mind attention, but that didn’t make him a bad landlord. Shoot, he’d probably never even be involved. His people had people who had people who would handle things, most likely.
What did it matter? Maybe it was best she’d overreacted. She and Wes had no future anyway. She’d been dreaming. She’d thank him for a lovely trip and an adventure in baking and move on. The practical side of her found this acceptable. The romantic side of her that was in love with him did not.
“Are you going to help him bake for the last Bake-Off?” Holly’s question pulled her from her thoughts.
A shrug was all she could manage. Her eyes found his as he smiled and shook hands with the other bachelors. He’d done well so her sister’s question was a valid one. Could she spend more time with him as just friends? Maybe he wouldn’t even want her help anymore. The idea was silly; even she knew that. The man had stayed behind after the performance the night before for almost an hour waiting to talk to her. She’d done her best to avoid him, which was no small feat. He didn’t put off the vibe of someone who was going to back away.
In fact, he made his way toward them, his demeanor cautious, his eyes searching hers for any sense of welcome.
“Hey, Wes. Nice job.” Holly gave him a hug.
“Thanks. Your sister’s a great teacher.”
“The best.” Holly patted his shoulder and moved past him to talk to a friend over by the counter. That left the two of them alone in the corner. People were putting on coats, milling around. People who had bid on the slices of pie were picking up their prizes to take home or having their picture taken with the bachelor who baked them. Glenna had bid on Wes’s whole pie and won.
“I see your pie is going to a good home.” Noelle motioned with her chin toward Glenna who was talking to Daniel St. Claire and grinning from ear to ear over the pie she now held in her hands.
Wes looked over his shoulder to Glenna then back at Noelle again. Man, he looked good. A black button-down shirt was tucked into his jeans; a gorgeous silver watch adorning his wrist drew attention to his forearms. She’d always been an arm girl. Other women could have men with six-pack abs; Noelle would take muscular arms any day. Although she guessed the black shirt covered a decent set of abs on Wes as well.
He smiled and tucked his hands into his pants pockets, his MO when unsure of things, she’d figured out. “Yeah. I told Glenna my angst over having a complete stranger bid on my stuff, so she stepped up for me.”
“She looks pretty happy.” However, the single women in the room, not so much. They’d been duped again at getting close to the wealthy bachelor. In fact, a few of them eyed Noelle with disdain at that moment.
“Well, it didn’t take too much convincing. She said she’s been making me food for so long it’s about time I made her something.”
“You couldn’t have just made her a pie at home?”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” The twinkle in his eye wormed its way in and warmed her to her toes.
Despite her unsettled feelings for him, she laughed. He had a knack for getting to her, even when she wanted to be mad at him.
“Besides, my dad is the one paying. He’d never let Glenna do that.”
“Your dad’s a good man.”
“Yes.”
They looked around, the diner now only filled with stragglers, people helping to clean up and small groups of friends talking about heading over to Grey’s.
“So, are we going to talk about the pink elephant in the room? The one standing between us?”
“Not here, Wes.” With two of the women hungry to be in her position in the corner with Wes St. Claire still eyeing them, the last thing she wanted was to start crying again.
“I simply meant that I wanted to know…well, I was hoping…” He looked at his shoes and then back at her.
She’d bet all the money raised so far that Wes had never in his life stumbled with what he wanted to say. A small part of her broken heart kind of liked watching him squirm. Although instead of it being awkward, it made him even more appealing. Dare she say, cute?
He took a deep breath and gained his composure. “Well, I have one more Bake-Off to go through. I was hoping you’d still help me.” Looking at her through long lashes wasn’t hurting his cause either. Her thoughts went from cute to something much steamier. Could she make it through one more baking session with him and come out of it with her heart still intact?
“I promise. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Oh, so many parts of her wished he wouldn’t. Before she could talk herself out of it she said, “I’ll help you. But just as friends.”
“Friends. Got it.” His words said one thing, but his eyes said something else.