Spendingthe afternoon with Piper going over possible business plans is making this feel real. Piper is the real business woman in all of this. I feel like I’m tagging along for the ride at this point. But she is fully on board with me running a bakery to keep the cash flow going. Distilleries don’t start producing cash on day one. Or at least ours won’t, since we’ll still be establishing a supply chain and customer base.
I wait until Nash calls and says he’s ten minutes away, then grab the box of cinnamon rolls and my bag for the weekend.
Piper just left for her night shift, and Charlie is on a date with a boy I don’t like, so there’s no one to say goodbye to when I walk out of the building. I stand in front of the main entrance while I wait for Nash to pull up and park.
He climbs out of the car, takes my duffel bag from me, and puts it in the trunk. Then he walks back around and opens the passenger door for me. He hasn’t smiled or said anything yet, so I’m guessing he’s still upset about meshowing up yesterday. I honestly didn’t realize that he was trying to break things off the night he tucked me into bed. I was too busy admiring how strong and sweet he was, rather than listening to his words.
He’d been frustrated when I showed up, and I’d been thoroughly confused. Oh well, we can figure out the details of our breakup while we spend the weekend in Pine Ridge.
It’s not like I tried to trick him. I just think this is a good business opportunity. I’m not staying with him for his money. I only wanted a chance to submit a proposal to Alexander.
I smile at him sheepishly.
He just shakes his head and closes the door after I climb in.
He walks around to the driver’s side and starts the car, and we ride in silence until we’re out of Bend and heading east.
Finally, unable to handle the quiet anymore, I hold up the pan of cinnamon rolls. “I brought apology cinnamon rolls.”
He glances over as I lift the lid.
I pull one out, and it’s a sticky, gooey mess. It’s a good thing I remembered to stash a stack of napkins in my purse. I rummage for them and carefully wrap the cinnamon roll, so he won’t get frosting everywhere. I hold it out to him, but he doesn’t take it.
The corner of my mouth twitches, so I hold it closer and slowly wave it under his nose.
“It says,Eat me, eat me,” I say in a tiny, dramatic voice.
This time, a small smile sneaks onto his face. “Fine. I’ll eat your apology cinnamon roll.”
“Are you really that mad at me?”
“No. Maybe. Yes.”
“Which one is it?” I ask.
“I’m still deciding. We’ll see how good the cinnamon roll is.”
“If I’d known my apology baking would be judged on taste, I would’ve added extra butter.”
“Then we might be in the maybe category,” he says, “because I only love cinnamon rolls with extra butter on top of the frosting.”
My jaw drops. “You do that too?”
“All the time. Especially if it’s a cinnamon roll that’s still warm.”
I sigh reverently. “When you put a slab of butter on top and it melts on top of the frosting?—”
“Agreed,” he says, driving with one hand and taking a bite with the other. He chews, then nods. “Okay. Fine. I forgive you.”
“Here, have another one.”
I reach for the pan again, but he shakes his head.
“Save it for me. For the next stretch of the drive. I want to ration this deliciousness.”
I hesitate. “I thought about it last night. And if you intended to break things off with me, why didn’t you tell your grandpa yesterday? You had plenty of time to do it before I showed up.”
“I thought I was going to tell him,” he says “but something held me back. He kept talking about how much he liked you, and then he had a coughing fit, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell him the truth. He was excited to see you. So, I really can’t be mad at you for wanting to make business connections when I’m tempted to ask you to go along with this charade indefinitely.”
