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But as the little bell over the door rings, I look up to find a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring at me from across the bakery, and I momentarily forget all about Tinsley.
"Hey, Denise," Brett says with a grin.
Despite my feelings from last night, my heart still flutters in my chest, and my eyes flash down to those soft, kissable lips.
Geez, Denise. Get a grip on yourself.
Brett starts to walk between the dividers we use to manage the queue.
I struggle to hold back my smirk. "You don't have to walk through all that," I say, my eyes following him back and forth as he goes. "You can just come straight up here to talk to me."
"No," he says, giving me another half-smile. "I'm a paying customer today. I'm going to do this right."
"Oh. Really?" I blink at him as he finally makes it up to the counter. After a moment, I kick back into business mode. "What would you like?"
His eyes trace the rows of baked goods in the glass displays on either side of me. Slices of cakes, big donuts, and small ones, cookies, and tarts. For some reason, I feel my blush returning. Why do I want him to be impressed with my work?
After a moment, he smiles at me again. My lips twitch against my will, returning that smile.
I can feel myself starting to melt again. I want nothing more than to be back in his arms, to feel his warmth wrapped around me. I want to grab his hair and pull his lips down to where they're meant to be, right up against mine.
I bite my tongue, trying to hold myself together.
"Actually," he says, "I was hoping to buy more of the cookies you gave me yesterday. My brother ate most of them, and I want to bring some back to Houston to share with some of my coworkers. This is kind of my last chance to do that."
My heart doesn't just sink this time. It divebombs.
"Oh," I say again, my smile fading. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah. In a couple of hours, actually." His expression flattens, becoming serious and businesslike, though I swear I see a flash of sadness in his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't say anything sooner. Something came up last minute, and I have to cut my business trip short."
Maybe it's the way his mouth is pinched, or maybe it's the fact that he's suddenly avoiding my gaze. But for some reason, I feel like he's lying. I feel that flash of frustration in my chest again, remembering that I'm not happy with him.
"Unless you'd like to just give me the recipe," he suggests a little awkwardly, and I realize several moments have passed, and I haven't responded to him.
I force my mouth back into a friendly retail smile. "Can't do that," I say. "It's a family secret. If I give you that, my mom's ghost will come back and haunt the hell out of me."
At that, he laughs. "Well, we wouldn't want that."
I can't help but smile along with him. "I've got a bunch of Crescent Moons in the back. How about two dozen for the road?"
His teeth press into his bottom lip like he's holding back what he really wants to say. After a moment, he nods. "That would be perfect."
When I enter the back room to fetch the cookies, I find myself alone. My hands start to shake, and a familiar pressure builds in my throat, the kind that aches when I try to swallow it down.
Brett is leaving.
A hole of sadness opens in my chest, and my eyes begin to prickle. Why am I feeling like this? Why am I about to start crying? He's a man I barely know. I don't have a right to feel this way.
Grabbing a pastry box, I go to open it and stop myself. The Sugar Breeze logo is printed on the top, the one that Mom designed all those years ago. A curvy woman bent over a tray of something sweet. Her pink mouth stretched in a friendly smile.
I sigh. Sylvia Lawson wouldn't cry over some man. She had more important things to do.
And so do I.
Once I've collected the cookies (and myself), I head back out into the main part of the bakery. Brittany is leaning across the counter, her youthful breasts pressed over her crossed arms to emphasize them. Fortunately, Brett isn't paying her any attention. Instead, he spies me walking back in his direction, and that pleasant smile reappears.
That pain in my throat surges again.
