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I set the pan of cinnamon rolls in front of her, to remind her what she would be missing out on for the rest of her life if she offed me. She glared at the pan, as if she knew my plan and wasn’t going to be swayed by ten thousand beautiful calories, but then she begrudgingly took a bite. I knew I had her when she closed her eyes and let the cinnamon roll soothe her soul. When she dreamily sighed, I was almost sure I’d live another day. Well, maybe.
Our two guests appeared, dressed like they were headed to the office in button-down shirts and dress pants. Perhaps they were going out somewhere, which didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy. I needed Drake to keep a low profile while he was staying here. We are talking subterranean, you-need-a-retinal-scanner-to-gain-entry low.
Izzy squeezed my knee like the rockstar big sister she was. Regardless of how unhappy she was with me, she knew how incredibly difficult it was going to be for me to have Drake here. And what this could mean for the rest of Jameson’s and my life.
Drake and I locked eyes. His tired peepers were asking me what he should do. That was a good question. This was a new one for me.
“Good morning,” I croaked.
“Good morning,” Drake returned.
Jameson eyed our guests before he broke out in a smile. “See, Mom, I told you your friend would come back.”
Drake gave me an inquisitive glance before setting his sights on Jameson.
“He did come back.” I stood, full of nervous energy. “Would you like to sit down and eat?” I offered Drake and Martez.
“Yes, please.” Martez zoomed toward an empty chair near Izzy.
Izzy blushed while she adjusted her ponytail.
Drake stood as if frozen, still staring at Jameson, who was staring right back at him as if he might almost recognize him. Did he on some level?
I supposed I should introduce them. “Jameson, this is my friend Drake. He’s going to stay with us for a few days.” At least I thought so. Drake never said for sure how long he was staying. “Drake, this is Jameson, my son.” Our son.
Drake still behaved as if he were paralyzed. He wasn’t even blinking. Thankfully, Jameson was able to function normally. “Hi . . . I hope you don’t make my mom cry again.” Okay, so maybe I wasn’t thankful.
My cheeks burned while I cringed.
At least it made Drake come back to life. He cleared his throat. “I’ll try my best,” he stammered, which was not like him at all. He was usually the debonair poster boy.
Jameson shrugged and shoved another large piece of cinnamon roll in his mouth.
Drake still stood as if unsure how to proceed.
“Sit down,” I mouthed. He was acting like a freak.
Drake skirted around Jameson like he was diseased or something and sat as far away from him as he could at the long farmhouse table. When he sat down, he breathed out like he was safe.
I rolled my eyes.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Izzy snarled, giving Drake the evil eye. She changed her tune when she pushed the pan of cinnamon rolls toward Martez and placed an extra plate and fork in front of him. “Help yourself.”
Martez eagerly dished a large cinnamon roll onto his plate. “Thank you. This looks amazing.”
“Char is the best little baker around,” Izzy bragged on me.
“That’s what I hear. No one has been able to live up to her reputation,” he half grumbled.
Drake narrowed his eyes at Martez, obviously not appreciating Martez’s tone. To be honest, I didn’t either. It didn’t matter how attractive he was or that Izzy was ogling him. It wasn’t my fault he had issues with his boss.
Martez must have realized he’d made a faux pax, as he cleared his throat, his cheeks pinking. “Sorry, Mr. Foster,” he groveled.
No wonder the man felt salty toward me. No grown man should have to call their boss Mr. anything.
“You can call him Drake,” I interceded on the poor man’s behalf.
Drake’s brow popped with a look that said, Excuse me?
I wasn’t afraid of him in the least. Nor did I mind sticking my nose in his business. “You’re being ridiculous. When have you ever gone by Mr. Foster?” I challenged him.
“Things change, Charlotte.” He sounded none too happy with me for butting into his business. Well, we had a child together and he knew me in ways no one else did, so I was going to butt myself right on in. Drake was the best boss I’d ever had, and I wasn’t just saying that because I was in love with him. He had always been fair—you know, until he slept with me and then basically ignored me, but who was I to judge? Okay, I had every right to, but I couldn’t go down that road at the moment.
