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Once they all are settled at the table, I slip away into the back. I need to get the second cake mixed up and ready for the oven while the first one finishes baking. I keep an eye on them, making sure they don’t need me for anything while I’m back here. Once the second cake is in the oven and I’ve got my timers set, I head back out to the front, helping another couple of customers that come in, then.

It’s a good hour later when Tina and Betsy finally leave; I’m a little surprised Nathan doesn’t follow them out of the bakery.

“Working up an appetite for another sugar rush?” I tease.

“Not today, but before I leave, I did want to ask you to dinner tonight,” he states, and I’m almost caught off guard. Now, his lingering presence makes more sense.

I’ve enjoyed catching up with him and don’t see any harm in doing the same over some dinner. “Sure, I close at four and would need to run home to shower and change, first, but can be ready by six,” I tell him.

“That’s perfect. Where do you live? I can pick you up,” he offers.

I rattle off my address; it’s a newer development of smaller starter homes that have only been around for the last few years. I explain how to get there, also knowing that he can just plug the address into his GPS, and it will give him the directions.

“It’s a date,” I state, then blush at the implication that my statement implies.

“That it is.” He confirms, “I’ll see you at six sharp.”

Nathan winks, flashing me those damn dimples, which, once again, cause the butterflies in my stomach to take flight and my core to clench. What in the hell is this man doing to me? I need to get some control, or I’m never going to make it through dinner tonight. I need to keep a level head going into tonight. He doesn’t live here; this is the first time he’s been back in ten years. Who’s to say it won’t be another ten years before he returns again.

5

Nathan

I stepout of the shower, drying off before I wrap the towel around my waist. I walk to the sink and pull out my shaving cream and razor. I haven’t been on a date in months, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten how to get ready for one, especially if the woman I’m finally taking out for a date is the one woman I’ve had a crush on for years. If there is anyone besides my grandmother that could bring me back home, it might just be Harper.

I trim up the beard. I like keeping it nice and tidy but not completely bare-faced. I’ve found that most women like a little scruff, and I don’t mind not having to shave every day because of it.

With my beard trimmed up, I finish up in the bathroom, brushing my teeth.

I pull on some jeans and a polo. We’re in the mountains; getting dressed up here consists of new wranglers, some cowboy boots, and a button-up shirt. I’m almost overdressed for tonight, but it’s what I’ve got.

I step back into the bathroom, spray on some cologne, and double-check that I look put together and not as nervous as I’m really feeling. I still can’t quite believe that I’m going on a date with Harper Taylor.

Before I can slip my phone into my back pocket, it starts ringing and vibrating on the bed. I grab it, looking at the screen before swiping to answer.

“Good afternoon, Leo. What’s going on?” I ask my best friend and business partner.

“Just checking in, seeing how things are going and if you’re ready to escape yet.”

“Things are going just fine. I’m actually headed out on a date in a few minutes.”

“You’re what?” he asks, obviously confused and a tad bit shocked.

“I’ve reconnected with a friend from high school. I’m on my way to pick her up, and we’re going out to dinner.”

“Don’t forget to wrap it up.” He chuckles into the line.

“It’s not like that,” I tell him, almost having to grit my teeth so I don’t bite his head off for making a comment like that about her. I know I haven’t kept in touch with Harper over the last ten years, but I know deep down that she isn’t the one-night stand kind of girl. She isn’t out there sleeping with just anyone that looks at her.

“Okay, well, enjoy your date. Things are still going fine here at the office, so take your time. We’ve got everything handled.”

“I still plan to fly back this weekend,” I state.

“Sounds good, but if something changes, just let me know. You deserve some time off, and I can handle anything that comes up.”

“I know you can,” I tell him. I switch over to speaker and toss my phone onto the bed so I can slide my belt through the loops of my jeans. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can catch up and go over a few things.”

“If you want, or like I said, I can handle things here without you. Maybe you need to unplug from reality. Go get laid, get lost in the woods, do something other than work for once in your life,” Leo hounds.

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