Colleen O’Bannon could probably count the number of times she had had to deliver an apology in her life. And even fewer times that she had been so wrong about someone’s character. The thought disturbed her, needling in her brain like a buzzing bee. Maybe Roger had a point about how closed off she had become. Maybe not.
She put on her coat, told the girls she’d be right back, then marched out of the bakery and got in her car. A few minutes later, she was pulling up in front of Sophie’s Home. She got out of the car, then stood on the porch, for a second feeling lost without pastries to fill her hands and give her an excuse for stopping by.
She found Iris in the kitchen of the shelter, mixing batter in a bowl. Her head was bent over the task in concentration, and from the ingredients waiting on the counter, Colleen guessed that Iris was making an Italian lemon cream cake. “Be sure to spray the springform pan with cooking spray or your cake will stick,” Colleen said.
Iris jumped and turned. “Mrs. O’Bannon. I…I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t announce myself. Frankly, I was afraid you’d run if I did.” She gestured toward one of the chairs. “Let’s talk a minute.”
Iris nodded. She set the batter aside, wiped her hands on a dishtowel, then sat across from Colleen. Iris’s foot tapped a nervous staccato against the tile.
“I…Well, I…” This time it was Colleen’s turn to stumble over her words. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I came to apologize to you.”
Iris’s eyes widened. “You did?”
“I was wrong to judge you without talking to you. I made an assumption, and it was wrong.” She crossed her hands on the table. “If you still want to work for me, I would like you to come back to the bakery. If you don’t, I…well, I would understand.”
“I do like working there. You all have been so good to me.”
Until I accused you of being a thief. “Until the other day, and I am very sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” Iris picked at the edge of a blue linen place mat. “I get it. I mean, my mom does drugs and I’ve been on the streets some. People look at me different because of that.”
A crime Colleen had also been guilty of. Judging without thinking first. Colleen took a moment to look at Iris, really look at her. The girl was thin as a yardstick, as young as a new calf, and as sincere as anyone who sat in the pews at church. “Well, they shouldn’t. You are a very nice young woman.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Bannon.” She smoothed the edge of the place mat before squaring it with the edge of the table. When she glanced up, her black-rimmed eyes were filled with tears.
Colleen drew herself up before she softened like butter in the summer sun. “Well, do you want the job or not? If you say yes, for God’s sake, you better learn how to make buttercream frosting. You always add too much confectioners’ sugar and it’s a bit too stiff.”
Iris gave her a watery grin. “Okay. I will.”
“And promise me you will get your GED. It can be noisy here, so you are welcome to study in the bakery at the end of the day. Now, have you eaten today?”
Iris shook her head.
“Good Lord, you need someone to take care of you.” Colleen got to her feet and buried her face in the refrigerator, pretending to look for food. The tears she had managed to hold back began to spill, and she allowed herself a moment of grief for a young girl with a good heart and a lot of bad breaks.
Iris’s life was light-years harder than Colleen’s had ever been, but she could tell the girl enjoyed working at the bakery. Even seemed to like Colleen, who knew she sometimes had a rather brusque approach to things.
Colleen poured Iris some iced tea and fixed her a chicken salad sandwich. She put both down on the table. “Here you are.”
Iris had wiped away the tears and the muddy makeup, but emotional hesitation still hitched her words. “Thank you.”
“It is not necessary to thank me every time I feed you.” She folded a napkin and set it beside Iris’s glass.
“I didn’t mean thank you for the food. I mean”—she fiddled with the place mat again—“thank you for coming here and talking to me, and giving me the job. You’re the first person who’s ever believed in me.”
“No, dear, I’m the second.” Colleen patted Iris’s hand. “Roger believed in you first. He thinks you can do amazing things.”
Iris blushed. “He helped my mom get in a rehab program yesterday even though she didn’t have any money. He’s very nice.”
“He is.” Who would have thought that a man whose shoes didn’t match his belt and who often forgot his glasses on top of his head could be such a kind and generous person? The first time she’d met him a year ago, she’d thought Roger was full of boast and bluster, but she’d soon realized all that was a nervous cover for the humble generosity in his heart.
“He likes you an awful lot, Mrs. O’Bannon. Whenever I see him, he asks about you, and he gets all goofy.”
He did? She knew he liked her but had no idea he got “goofy” when he asked about her. In that moment, Colleen suspected her own cheeks held a bit of a blush too. “Well, we are quite good friends.” She got to her feet and tapped the plate holding Iris’s sandwich. “I will see you tomorrow morning at six. And on Sunday, I expect you at my house at five p.m. sharp.”
“What for?”
“Family dinner.” A lump formed in Colleen’s throat, but she coughed and it went away. She was merely helping out a girl whose mother was away. It wasn’t like she was adopting Iris or anything. “From now on, I think you should attend that. Lord knows someone needs to feed you.”
The tears started in Iris’s eyes again. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Bannon. I’d like that.”
“Good. Five o’clock. Sharp. I don’t like tardiness.” Colleen crossed to the door of the kitchen, then took a right and headed down the hall, before she lost her nerve. She stopped outside of Roger’s office. The door was open, and he was reading something on his computer. His hair was a bit askew, his glasses perched on top of his head, but something inside her softened a little all the same. “I am here delivering apologies,” she said.
Roger pivoted toward her. “You are? I didn’t realize you offered those at the bakery.”
“Well, we don’t.” She stepped inside and shut the door. They were alone, and a part of Colleen was thrilled. Another part was as nervous as a new bride. “But maybe we should start. It turns out my granddaughter took the money. And before you say anything, I already apologized to Iris and offered her a job.”
He got up and came to stand before her. “Is this a sign that you are softening, my prickly cactus vixen?”
“I’m doing no such thing. I’m merely admitting I was wrong, as anyone should do.” She answered him with an annoyed scowl, but she had a sneaking suspicion it looked more like a smile.
“You are changing that girl’s life,” he said. “In fact, you already have.”
“I’m helping her a bit, that’s all.” She raised her gaze. Roger stood a full head taller, and a few inches taller than Michael had been. She liked that he was tall. He reminded her of an oak tree, strong and solid in a storm. “She told me you helped her mother out. You are a good man.”
A flush filled his cheeks. “I’m an ordinary man, trying to do some good.”
Now that the words were on the tip of her tongue, Colleen couldn’t seem to push them out. She’d never been a flirty woman and hadn’t the foggiest idea how to seduce a man. It had been so long since she’d dated, that she was sure she would do it all wrong. “I’ve been thinking about your offer.”
He arched a brow. “You’re calling a marriage proposal an offer?”
“For one, if that was a marriage proposal, it was pitiful. When you ask a woman to marry you, Roger O’Sullivan, you should do it right.”
He laughed. “I’ll make a mental note for next time.”
Next time? Did he mean to ask her again? Or ask someone else? “And you don’t start off by trying to whisk her away to some other state. She’ll get the impression you think she’s cheap.”
He shifted closer to her and placed his hands on her hips. He had wide, strong hands, and they settled nicely in that space. “I don’t think you’re cheap, Colleen. Not in the least. And I invited you to Florida because I thought you’d enjoy it. We can have separate rooms, if you want. I’d just like to spend some time alone with you.”
“And in this alone time”—she drew in a breath, holding it for a second—“what did you think you were going to do? Exactly?”
“Play gin rummy.”
“Oh.” She must have read him entirely wrong. Heat filled her cheeks, and she started to step back. “Well, gin rummy is fine.”
But Roger didn’t release her hips. He smiled down at her, but now his smile seemed warmer, deeper. “I’d love to play gin rummy with you, Colleen, but I’d much rather kiss you.”
“Well…I…well…” She swallowed. God, he had amazing eyes. She could stare at them for hours. “Well, all right, then.”
Roger raised his hands to cup her cheeks, a soft, tender, cherishing touch. Then he brushed his lips against hers, gentle, slow. It was a kiss unlike any she’d ever had before. Sweeter, nicer—
Wrong. Colleen jerked back. “We…we shouldn’t.”
Disappointment filled his face, and he let her go. It seemed to get colder in the tiny shop. “Okay.”
“I want to. I just feel…wrong. Like I’m cheating on Michael.” She shook her head. “That’s silly, isn’t it? He’s been gone for two decades. But I…I’ve been alone all that time, and well, I never thought I’d ever love anyone else, and I haven’t kissed anyone else, and I…I don’t want to do it wrong.”
“There is no wrong, Colleen. And I’m willing to wait, if you want me to.”
Why did Roger have to be so kind and patient and understanding? Why couldn’t he be a big jerk so she could just push him out the door and never think of him again? Because she did think of him, more than she should.
“I never thought I’d love another man,” she said again, “until I…well, until I met you. And though you annoy me and frustrate me and show up altogether too often—”
“You love me?” His grin widened. “You vixen, you.”
She wagged a finger at him. “And that too. You can’t call me a vixen. I’m the exact opposite of a vixen.”
“The definition of a vixen is an attractive woman who tempts and lures you. And you, my dear Colleen, have done that from the day I met you and you refused to take my arm crossing the street. You are stubborn and grumpy and driven and a hundred other things that make me love you more every time I see you.”
“And you are an idiot.” But she smiled when she said it and found herself swaying back toward him. He caught her waist again, and this time, when he leaned in to kiss her, she stayed right where she was.