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Why was I getting more entangled with her? I was supposed to be building a new future for Kendall and me, but it seemed like I couldn’t escape my past, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
After leaving the bakery, I’d taken Kendall to the library and to the grocery store. I loved doing these mundane things with her, even if she spent more time sighing and rolling her eyes at me than talking.
I’d tucked a small tape measure into my shorts so I could use it as an excuse when I stopped by Sophie’s bakery this morning. It would allow me to get a jump start on the project. The only downside was I’d need to talk to my dad about acquiring the lumber I needed.
I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, or questions about my future, but I’d come home, and I couldn’t avoid him.
Sophie smiled at me when she saw me approaching.
I drew up short. “It’s almost like you were expecting me.”
Her smile widened. “I can’t imagine why.”
I held up the tape measure I’d brought. “I came prepared.”
“I thought you were going to do that later?” she asked as she unlocked the door and silenced the alarm.
“I wanted to get the measurements so I could bring the wood over later this afternoon.”
She grabbed a water out of the refrigerator and handed it to me. “I didn’t think it would be so quick.”
Our fingers brushed when I accepted the bottle, sending goose bumps up my forearm. “When I decide to take something on, I like to do it quickly.”
Leaving tasks unfinished drove me crazy.
She waved for me to follow her into the kitchen.
I drank the water, assessing the shelves. “You want the same setup?”
She sighed. “Simple shelves would be fine.”
I sensed there was something she was holding back. “If money wasn’t an object, what would you want?”
She went to her office, pulling a magazine out of one of the drawers. It was already folded back to a page that was worn, with a turned-down corner. She must have looked at this numerous times, coming back to it again and again. My heart pinched at the idea of creating something she’d wanted for a long time.
“This is what you want?” I asked her, moving closer to the desk.
“It’s my dream storage area.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say that before,” I teased as I stood next to her, reveling in her familiar sweet scent before focusing on the glossy page. They were classic shelves, but there were also pull-out sections for various ingredients, spices, and icings, as well as a special compartment for mixers and larger equipment. I straightened, rubbing the scruff on my chin. “This is fancy.”
Her eyes dimmed as she shoved the magazine back into the desk. “I know it’s a pipe dream. It’s not necessary. Open shelves are fine.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. It’s the perfect setup. You’d be able to find exactly what you need, and it’s sturdy. It’ll last a long time.”
Her eyes implored me to understand. “I don’t want to be frustrated when I’m looking for ingredients. I want everything to have a place.”
“I want you to have exactly what you want.” I’d never said anything that was more truthful.
Her eyes met mine like she recognized that my statement encompassed more than shelves.
“You shouldn’t have to settle.” At this point, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was referring to. I could have been talking about the storage options, our relationship, or her future, which most certainly didn’t include me. I just wanted her to be happy.
She took a step back from me and looked away with a huff. “The question is, can I afford it?”
She was avoiding me, and I didn’t blame her. We’d gotten too close and flirted around more serious issues. Neither of us was prepared to tackle our history or our breakup. We were here to discuss shelves.
“Don’t worry about that. You know my dad has the wood.”
