Page 24 of Restored Dreams

“No. I just watch what I eat. I bake cupcakes for a living, so if I don’t eat right, I’ll weigh three hundred pounds.”

I can’t even imagine Lily on the heavy side, but I do envision a bump on her belly. She’d be beautiful pregnant.

“You’re making cupcakes again?” My question expresses my concern as my eyes drift to the hand mixer. She told me she bakes when she’s anxious. Did something make her nervous? Her discussion with Ester perhaps?

“I don’t typically bake day-old batter, preferring to make everything fresh and from scratch the day of baking, but sometimes, we have too much. I bake the extra and give it to a homeless shelter.”

The comment reminds me her bakery isn’t in the best neighborhood. On top of that, I don’t even know where she lives. Hopefully not near her shop.

“You’re a good person, Lily.” Her face lights up as pink grows slowly on her cheeks. “But your place isn’t in the safest neighborhood.”

Lily turns her back to pop the cupcakes in the oven. She’s multitasking, and once again, I see how the kitchen is her happy place. There’s a rhythm to how she moves.

“It’s all I could afford. Besides, the kitchen was more important than the location. I just needed a place to bake other than my original tiny apartment.”

“Where do you live, Lil?” Her lips twists when she turns back to face me, keeping them locked tight. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.” Admittedly, I’m crushed.

“It’s not that. It’s just…I thought you didn’t want any future stuff, so you probably shouldn’t know where I live.” My head flinches back, startled by her comment.

“Is that what you want? To keep it a secret?” We agreed not to talk of the future, but knowing her address isn’t a commitment. Chewing on her lip, she avoids my eyes as she thinks.

“I already know where you work,” I remind her. She nods slowly, working the corner of her mouth before she speaks. “I live above the bakery.”

“What?!” Maybe this is why she didn’t want to tell me where she lives. She knew how I’d react. “Lily, that can’t be safe.”

“It’s fine.”

“Why the hell do you live there?”

“Because it came with the shop.”

“Are you struggling? Can’t you afford to live somewhere else?” The questions blurt out a bit insensitively. Her business isn’t my business, but I don’t like her arrangement. Her cupcakes are delicious, and when I visited, the shop was busy for an evening. Ester was explaining to another customer about some big order she was working on in the back. Her bakery has to be financially sound.

Lily’s hands pause from stirring vegetables. “No, Brut. I’m just frugal.” Her sharp tone makes me chuckle at the same time as it startles me. I walk around the island and pin her from behind, stretching out my arms to cage her in.

“Okay, Lily pad,” I tease, before softening my tone. “What did I say?”

She ignores me at first but finally speaks. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Brut.”

“I know that. I’m not suggesting you aren’t competent. It’s just…I care about you, Lil. I want you to be safe.” I press a kiss to her shoulder to emphasize my concern.

“Why…?” Her mouth remains open a second before she clamps her lips closed and shifts directions. “I’ve been on my own for a while now. I think I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can.”

I don’t doubt she can take care of herself, but I’m worried about her. I want to take care of her. She doesn’t seem appeased by my words, though, so I dismiss the conversation. I don’t want to fight with her, and whatever has her on edge, I’m ignoring it as well. I want us back to where we were an hour ago. My chin rests on her shoulder, and I peer down at the counter to find a mixing bowl filled with a creamy substance.

“This place is so well stocked.”

“Oh, most of these ingredients I bought, and I always travel with cupcake tins,” she says, flipping the veggies into the air and catching them back in the pan.

“Why?”

“Because I never know when I might be inspired or need the stress relief. In this case, I wanted to test out this new recipe.”

“Are you stressed out?” I mumble the question into her neck, my heart rate slowly rising.

“I don’t know what to think.” Her tone remains low, hesitant, as if something weighs on her mind.