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Wes prided himself on being able to mask his emotions, but hearing that Spellman was coming to Marietta threw him off. He’d seen the man not even thirty-six hours ago and he hadn’t said a word.
Noelle closed the refrigerator and looked at him. He’d planned on talking to Noelle about the deal while they made pie. It was time. With all the information he needed, he saw the deal as good for all involved. However, this wasn’t the segue he’d had in mind.
“His name is Ronald Spellman.”
“What?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
Wes put his hands in his pockets, the apron still tied over his neck and around his waist. “His name is Ronald Spellman. He’s someone my dad knows.”
“You knew about this?” The way her voice rose caused the good feeling he’d had not long ago kissing caramel off her lips to fade into the background.
“I did. But most of it not until recently.”
She sat down in the kitchen chair again, the look on her face as if he’d slapped her.
“Noelle. What is it?”
“If you have to ask, then you’re not the man I thought you were.”
Chapter Fifteen
Noelle sat ather kitchen table, staring at Wes. The apron he wore looked even sillier with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. Moments before she’d been lost in the pure heaven that was his lips on hers, the mixture of caramel and Wes a flavor she’d not soon forget. But now her mind reeled with what he’d just told her.
How could he have known about the deal all along and not said anything? She had been blabbing to him each time they baked together, and even when he’d brought her dinner at the studio. He’d had ample time to enlighten her on details, but instead he let her worry and jabber on like a fool.
The chair across from her scraped on the linoleum as he pulled it back to sit down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, Noelle. But I wanted to have more details before I did. Adding to any rumors you had heard wouldn’t help things.”
He had a point. But it was a flimsy one.
“After I got here, my dad asked me to look at Spellman’s plans. They work in the same industry.”
“You’ve known since you got here?” Her voice rose again, all grace she was ready to give him from his previous point now on its way out the window.
“Not exactly. No.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table. Noelle could see how, even in an apron that said, “Real Men Bake Cookies,” the man could command a room. Everything in her wanted to be mad at him, and she was mad, but his countenance said that he was in complete control of the conversation.
“I initially came to Marietta to visit my family. My dad asked me my opinion on the situation. He’s worked in broadcasting and television his whole life. He has some real estate, yes, but it’s not his strongest suit and he’s willing to admit that. He wanted my advice and I was more than willing to give it to him.”
His eyes never left hers as he spoke. “When I first arrived, I had little time to look into anything because he volunteered me for this Bake-Off.” He motioned to her kitchen with one hand. He may have even rolled his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure, the movement was so brief. “By the time I was able to actually read through any documents, we’d spent time together and by then…” His hands were locked together in front of him on the table. He looked at them, his demeanor softening a bit. “By then, I felt it best to wait and not say anything to you until I had more information.”
“And you think this is a good thing? This deal?”
“I met with Ronald in New York. I’m not a fan of the guy, but after speaking with him, I think it could be good for Marietta.”
Noelle’s eyes narrowed as her heart sped up in her chest. “You met with him while we were in New York?”
Wes leaned back in his chair, the air of controlling the situation back in the lift of his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw. He was in full business mode. No emotion. No softness in his eyes. The blue was cold. Solid. The complete opposite of the deep color they’d been right before he’d kissed caramel off her lips. “I did.”
She fought back the urge to cry. Not only had he made a fool of her by never admitting anything when they’d talked before, but the trip to New York wasn’t about her at all, or any feelings he might have for her. It was about business.
“I see.”
“What is it you think you see, Noelle?” His rigidity was beginning to irritate.
