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“Zach—"
I shut the car door and glance at her. “Don’t worry, Hope. It’s just for a day.”
She’s quiet for a beat, biting her lip and looking at me with a wide, confused gaze.
I give her a second to wrap her head around everything. I fully intend to fix all that happened this evening because of us. She lost time, money, and sleep, all because I wanted to find out more about Ray. Hope also needs to get used to me, including my craziness as people call it, because I have no intention of disappearing from their lives after tonight.
After bringing the bags to her doorstep, I shoot a quick text to William, instructing him not to ring the doorbell and call me instead. I don’t want Ray’s sleep to be interrupted.
I follow Hope into the house and place the bags on the counter.
I notice now the big, industrial-grade oven, something one would see in a bakery.
“You have quite the equipment here.”
“When I was pregnant, and later when Ray was young, I couldn’t leave him alone.” She starts to arrange her ingredients on the table. “Mom has a heart condition and she’s often sick. So, one of my father’s friends loaned me some money to buy this secondhand oven. This way I could bake at home and then someone from the bakery would pick up the orders. But now I do most deliveries myself. I can save a little this way.” Finally, when she has everything set on the table, she asks, “Does your nosy brain have any more questions, or can I get started with my work?”
A hint of a smile touches her lips and something warm creeps in my heart as her eyes crinkle and she smiles more freely. She looks younger, happier.
“Start away.” I sweep my arm forward.
“And you’re not leaving?”
I shake my head. “I’m gonna help any way I can.”
As if on cue, my cell phone rings. I escort William from the front door to the small kitchen where Hope is sifting flour.
“William, this is Hope Davis. She needs help with some baking orders.”
“Of course, sir. Ms. Davis, nice to meet you. How can I be of help?”
