Page 22 of The Marriage Mistake

“You make a beautiful couple. Bye-bye now!” She waved and climbed into a nearby car, and the two of us turned toward the bakery. Jack opened the door for me, and the smell of fresh baking and espresso made everything a little better.

But as soon as we stepped inside, the dark-haired woman behind the counter pointed at the door behind us and bellowed, “OUT!”

All eyes turned to the two of us. There were about a dozen people in the café, at tables and in line. Most of them were above the age of sixty, but there were two or three who were younger.

Jack spread his palms. “Come on, Caroline.”

“I mean it,” she said. “You’re not welcome in my establishment.”

“I’m trying to show Ember around town.”

Caroline’s eyes slid over to me. “The Marses are not welcome in here,” she explained. “My apologies, but you need to leave.”

I turned to Jack. “Should I be keeping track of all of these jilted lovers in a spreadsheet, or something?”

His gaze was flat and unimpressed. “You’ve got jokes,” he said. “That’s unexpected.”

“I do enjoy all the clever ways you find to insult me.”

A sharp, dangerous smile curved his lips. Then he murmured, “Caroline and I were never lovers, by the way.”

That shouldn’t have made me relax as much as it did.

“Chop-chop, people! I don’t want you polluting my fine establishment.”

I glanced up at Caroline, waved, and turned, but Jack stopped me. He hauled us both forward and said, “Come on, Caroline. You let Gideon and Sadie eat and drink in here.”

“Gideon was romantic, and Sadie is awesome. You haven’t got a romantic bone in your body”—she lifted a hand—“no, I won’t hear whatever lewd joke is on the tip of your tongue. Your new wife might be awesome, but I’m not prepared to take the risk. One Mars is more than enough.”

“The coffee at Harbor Coffee is awful.”

“Not my problem.” Caroline aggressively wiped the counter with a cloth and refused to meet our gazes.

“Jack, let’s just go. She won’t serve us. It’s fine.”

“Listen to your wife, Jack. She’s clever.” Caroline tossed the cloth away and folded her arms. “Not clever enough to run away screaming when presented with the prospect of marrying you, but hey.”

Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Listen. I know this is about Knox. He won’t tell us what happened, but I promise you⁠—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. You’re here to wave your dick around and make us all obey. And your family might control most of this town, but you don’t control me. Now. Will you leave, or do I have to call the cops?”

Jack clicked his tongue. Looked at me. “I’m sorry,” he said.

I shrugged. “I don’t even drink coffee. I just like the way it smells. The donuts look good, though.”

Caroline snorted out a laugh. “You know what? You made me laugh. Have a donut. Jack can get himself a terrible coffee from Harbor Coffee.”

She bagged a chocolate glaze donut for me, winked, then shooed us out with the tongs she’d used to grab my treat. Once outside, I looked in the bag and pulled out the ring of deep-fried doughy, chocolatey goodness.

Sugar. My weakness.

I took a bite right there on the sidewalk and moaned.

“That’s really good,” I said through the mouthful of deliciousness.

Jack went very still, his eyes on my mouth. “Yeah?” he finally asked, voice full of gravel.

I chewed and swallowed, caught by the intensity of his stare. “Um,” I said. “Yeah.”