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I needed my routine. I needed to bake.
I moved blindly through the store to the kitchen, my respite, my oasis. Here, nothing could touch me. Not Mark. Not lost opportunities or regrets.
I took great satisfaction in the stainless-steel counters and appliances. Everything was clean and sparkling.
I wasn’t my sisters’ pseudo-mother or everyone’s best friend and confidante. I was Sophie. The baker.
The girl who’d thought she made the biggest mistake when she let the love of her life walk out the door. I rubbed the familiar ache in my chest. That one act negated everything we’d ever shared. Made me doubt every sweet word, every kiss, whispered promise, and declaration of love.
I thought he’d regret his decision to leave. He’d come back to me, but when he left, I was apparently out of sight and out of mind.
I squared my shoulders as I pulled out the ingredients I’d need for the morning. I’d grown up in the last ten years. I wasn’t the naïve girl he’d dated. I was a successful businesswoman. I didn’t need him walking back in here and eroding everything I’d built, along with my confidence.
Besides, he was here for his daughter, not me. He wanted to give her a better life. He wasn’t here to right some wrong or declare his undying love for me. I was too practical to believe those fantasies anymore. People left, or they died. And those who were left behind had to pick up the pieces and move forward.
I sucked in a breath. Mark was here to stay. I’d have to see him around town and pretend he didn’t mean anything to me. I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
ChapterTwo
MARK
The cool air in the bakery had chilled the sweat running down my back, but it did nothing to lessen the conflicting thoughts I was having about my ex.
When I first realized who she was, my heart had stuttered under my rib cage, and it had nothing to do with the way I’d pushed myself on my early morning run.
She’d seemed flustered, her eyes wide and her breathing staggered. Inside, she seemed to relax, and that’s when I noticed she was wearing a pink T-shirt with the words “Sophie’s Sweets” stretched over her breasts. Those words and the way they emphasized all her curves had my imagination running wild.
For a second, it was like no time had passed. She was still my girl, and I was the guy she could depend on, the one she loved. I wanted to move closer, grip her hips, and pull her against me. I wanted the sensation of her soft curves against my hard body. I wanted to feel the familiar weight of her hair in my fingers.
Would she smell like sugar and dough? Would she be as sweet as she’d been as a teenager? Or was she spicier now?
Instead, I’d taken a step toward the counter to block the evidence of my arousal while she’d grabbed the water. When she’d turned, I’d realized she was even more gorgeous than she’d been in high school. Her lanky frame had filled out into enticing curves. Her thick, red, wavy hair with the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks was the same. She was achingly familiar.
When I’d moved closer to throw out the water bottle, her breath had hitched. She was as affected by my presence as I was by hers.
My heart clenched at seeing her for the first time in a long time. We hadn’t been alone in the same room since she’d turned down my proposal. I’d tried to reach out several times when I was gone, and a few times when I visited home, but she’d been cool toward me. Her wary eyes and the hurt that simmered just below the surface made it seem like I was at fault when she’d been the one to say no to the logical next step—marriage.
Back then, I’d had no choice but to enlist. It had seemed so clear that I needed to leave, to escape my father and this small town. It would have been selfish to beg Sophie to come with me.
She was the practical one. I was the dreamer. The one who thought there was more to life than this small town and my dad’s business. She hadn’t felt the same. Maybe what we had was just young love, and it couldn’t withstand the test of time.
I picked up the pace to a jog on the last stretch home. The endorphins were already kicking in. I felt good. Each step that took me away from the bakery had me thinking about my future. Things had changed. Now that I was discharged from the military, no one controlled my life but me. Anything was possible.
Could I have everything I’d ever wanted, my daughter and Sophie?
It was still quiet when I opened the door, so I made coffee, then started to make pancakes with chocolate chips. Kendall always liked them when she was little, and I hoped she still did.
I wanted to make a good life for my daughter, Kendall, in Annapolis, but I had no idea what to do for work now that I was back.
When I was discharged, Kendall’s mother, Melanie, said she wanted to travel and it was my turn to raise her. Like our daughter was a doll we passed back and forth. I eagerly agreed because I hated that I’d missed so much of her life and was determined to make up for it.
I ate and passed the time reading the news on my phone. I was getting antsy when Kendall finally came down at eight in her pajamas with her hair sticking up.
Affection for her warmed my chest. “Good morning. Are you hungry?”
She plopped down on the end of the couch, her nose wrinkling when she saw my coffee mug. “No.”
“I made chocolate chip pancakes.”
