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“Understandable. But if you need to cry more, my shoulders can take it.” I finished my dinner and closed the foam container. After pulling out the cake container, I tossed the empty one into the sack. I set the closed cake container on the oversized ottoman between my legs and hers. “How much of your to-do list needs to be finished before you can hire someone?”
“In an ideal world, all of it, but that’s not realistic. I need to buy a property management system and get it installed first and foremost. My aunt’s systems were archaic.”
“Still with the index cards?”
“Color-coded and sorted by week.”
“A computer system sounds expensive.” I knew the one we’d put in the restaurant when my brothers and I had taken over had cost an arm and a leg. “So is a roof. Did your aunt leave the funds to take care of these things?”
Ava shook her head as she closed her empty container and added it to the bag. “I’m learning she had a huge heart but not so much of a business mind. I don’t suppose there’s cake in there.” She pointed at the box on the ottoman.
“Maybe cake.” I picked it up. “There was only one big piece left. I’ll get clean forks if you’ll share it with me.”
“Deal,” she said with no hesitation.
I hopped up and brought two forks from the dining area. When I sat back down, I moved closer to the center of the couch as I picked up the cake box and opened it. Ava scooted to my side, and I breathed in her scent like a starving man who hadn’t realized how hungry he was. She smelled of vanilla and light florals. I was certain it was the same fragrance she’d worn seventeen years ago, and damn if it didn’t take me back to the time when we’d been in love. I wanted to lean closer and bury my face in her neck and breathe it in fully.
“Are you actually going to share or just sit there and stare at me?” she asked, holding out her hand for a fork.
I handed her one, then extended the box for her to take to the first bite.
The sweet, fruity scent of hummingbird cake had nothing on Ava Dean. Just saying.
Since I couldn’t take a bite out of the woman next to me, I settled for a little cake and took pleasure in her enjoyment of what I’d made. With her first forkful, she let out a sound of appreciation. With every bite after, she closed her eyes to savor it.
Hummingbird cake was the only thing I baked, if I could help it. I left the rest to Kinsey on a daily basis, and though I’d shared my grandmother’s recipe with my pastry chef under strict confidentiality and she could do it just right, it was something I insisted on doing myself.
“So what are you going to do if your aunt didn’t leave money for improvements?” I asked. “If that’s not too nosy.”
Ava eyed the bite she’d just forked as if it was the meaning of life. She stuck it in her mouth, did the eye-closing thing as she chewed, then said, “I hope to get a loan, and I also have money I can put toward it.”
My surprise must have shown on my face, because Ava explained, “My dad is my ex’s mentor in their law firm. He made sure I got a generous settlement.”
“You don’t think it would’ve worked out the same otherwise?” I asked.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t have.”
“Do you have a job besides writing?”
“I work at a doggy daycare. Enough to pay the rent on my apartment and some expenses each month. I don’t have income from writing yet.”
“Doggy daycare, huh?” I couldn’t help smiling. “You always wanted a dog.” She’d never been able to have one because she didn’t have time to take care of it on top of the inn and her mom.
“I did, but Wes was allergic, or so he said, and now I live in a small apartment. Anyway, I’ve stockpiled as much of the spousal support as possible while I get my writing career off the ground. I never planned on the money going to the inn, but it needs it and I have it, and I want to make sure everything is handled perfectly for my aunt.”
“I don’t mean this in a bad way, but it sounds like anything will be more than what she was managing.”
“She loved it as hard as she could, but she didn’t have cash or business sense. I plan to make it everything she knew it could be.”
Her love for her aunt was evident in the passion behind her words and the sudden glassiness of her eyes. Without thinking about it, I grasped her thigh just above her knee and squeezed it supportively since her hands were full of the cake box and her fork. It was only when I was mid-squeeze that I saw her head whip in my direction out of the corner of my eye and realized I was crossing a line between present us and past us without meaning to. Touching her had just seemed natural.
Instead of apologizing, I acted like it was no big deal and took my hand back, waiting to see if she’d say anything. She didn’t.
“This place has so much potential,” I said. “It sounds like you’re on the right track. Phyllis would be beside herself with love and happiness.”
“I just need to figure out how to make it work. It won’t be done by next week.”
“There’s no way. Can you postpone your meeting?”
