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Heat flooded her face when she thought about who’d been at her house when the chocolate batch went in the oven. Before she could formulate a retort, a customer stepped up behind her and leaned forward to look inside the bakery box.
“Ooh, those look so good,” the woman gushed. “How much are they?”
Honor shifted herself and the box to the right so there was room for her to place purchases on the counter. “Sorry, they’re not—”
“Five dollars each,” Roxanna cut in as she set aside the half-eaten chocolate cake in her hand. “And worth every penny.”
Worth every penny? What?!
“I’ll take two of each, please.”
Honor cut her gaze to Roxanna, eyes wide in shock over her words of praise and the lack of hesitation in the customer’s response. The shop owner simply reached under the counter and pulled out a brown gift box to put the four cupcakes in, then rang them up along with the woman’s other items.
Once she left, Honor moved closer again. “You didn’t seem overly concerned about selling her the angry ones.”
“Your anger was specifically directed at me. It won’t affect her.” Roxanna opened the register and offered Honor a twenty.
“I don’t want your money.”
“They were your cupcakes.”
Good point. Honor swiped the cash from her fingers. “Is this supposed to make everything okay?”
“I know it doesn’t make up for what happened last night, but I have a license to go with the coffee bar, so I can sell them here whenever you want, to help make up for the cancellations. It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, for sure it’s the least,” she retorted while stuffing the money in her jeans pocket. “The most would be for you to call the blog writer and admit you were wrong.”
“I wasn’t wrong.” Roxanna gave her a sideways glance, then propped one hand on her hip, chin at a defiant angle as she faced her directly. “Tell me you believe in love and I’ll call right now.”
Aggravation shortened her breath as she stared at the stubborn brunette. What was with her and Asher insisting she answer that damn question? Like with him, she found she couldn’t outright lie to his friend’s face. She’d meant it when she’d told Mae she didn’t believe in psychic crap, and yet the woman had eerily predicted her emotions for each batch of treats in the box. Her reaction to the chocolate was particularly unsettling.
Unless she’d talked to Asher. If he’d told her about stopping at Honor’s house after the party, if he told her they’d kissed, then it wouldn’t have been hard for her to make guesses about the cupcakes.
Taking a page straight out of his playbook, she replied, “Anything is possible.”
Roxanna’s scrutiny made her insides twitch. After a long moment, she said, “That’s very true. And when you actually believe it, I’ll be happy to make a new statement.”
“What the hell?” Honor snapped in frustration. “Have you appointed yourself the Happily Ever After Fairy?”
“No. I am definitely not that.” Dejection clouded her eyes for the space of one breath, then her expression hardened to stubborn again. “But I still stand by what I said.”
Irritated frustration threatened to coil her fingers into fists. Instead, she flipped the top closed on the cupcakes with a muttered, “This was a total waste of time.”
When she would’ve lifted the cupcakes to take them with her, Roxanna laid a hand on the box. “Leave them. I’ll even pay you up front.”
“These are for someone else.” She jerked the sweets away and headed for the door. She’d talk to the damn blog writer herself.
On her way back to her car, she fumed at the woman’s refusal to take back her accusation from the party. She knew why—it didn’t take a genius to figure it out—but it still pissed her off. Roxanna didn’t give a shit if Honor believed in love or not, she was only worried about her own reputation. Because who’d want to go to a psychic who made false predictions?
CHAPTER 15
Everywhere Asher turned, something reminded him of Honor.
The late morning sun hit the carafe of juice on the table, casting a rich, red shadow to almost match her hair. His youngest sister’s gray sweatshirt was a couple shades darker than Honor’s faded T-shirt last night. Seeing Celia and her fiancé steal a quick kiss at the door of the dining room had him daydreaming about his neighbor’s sexy, sweet mouth all through Sunday brunch.
He’d wanted to knock on her door just to see her face this morning, to hear her voice. But it would’ve been a wasted opportunity with his family waiting on him before serving the meal. He needed to return the plate when he had lots of time, when they could talk and get to know each other, not drop it off and run. A move like that gave him no chance to finesse another kiss that was ten times better than her addicting frosting.
His mom and dad sat at one end of the twelve foot table, with his grandparents opposite. Celia, Robert, and Loyal filled in one side, and he, Merit, and Shelby the other. Currently, the baby of the family had asked their dad to go view a property she’d spotted for her future vet clinic.
