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Alex’s cheeks fanned red. “Not at first, no.”
“They are? Sweet!” Brooklyn cried. “Now you can make these for breakfast again tomorrow!”
He looked from Brooklyn to Mia with a sheepish grin. “How could I possibly say no?”
So wait, now Brooklyn was all Team Alex? Apparently, Mia had worried about her daughter being mad about him staying here for nothing. But as he served Brooklyn another piece of French toast, Mia silently wrestled with his rental shop confession. Why hadn’t he mentioned it as soon as he knew?
Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt. Probably, he hadn’t found out until very late last night or super early this morning. After all, he’d probably had his hands full with submitting an insurance claim. That didn’t make the task of rearranging her day any easier, though.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me, Alex?”
His smile slipped. “No. Why?”
“Eh, I’m just not a big fan of surprises. Hard to plan that way.”
She picked up her fork, forced a smile, and began mentally rearranging her schedule for today. Again.
*
While Mia andBrooklyn headed to church, Alex stayed behind to finish cleaning the kitchen. He’d made the mess, and he should be the one to clean it up—his mother would have grounded him for doing otherwise growing up. In a perfect world, he and Mia could have tag teamed the cleanup, maybe stolen a few kisses when Brooklyn wasn’t looking. But this morning things were far from perfect after Mia realized he hadn’t been up front with her about the rental shop situation.
He was definitely skating on thin ice, and that was without her knowing there’d been no Bambi. It made that warning of hers about hating surprises all the more worrisome. Tom’s comment about women preferring the truth tugged at his conscience, but he pushed it and his own worries aside. Confessing now would get both him and Del in hot water, and send him packing for sure. The best thing he could do right now was stay the course.
With the kitchen spotless, he headed back upstairs to continue his research on Tipsy Barrel Bourbons ahead of his meetup with Max. He’d been skeptical after Mia disclosed that the distillery was still relatively new to the bourbon scene. His search results, however, had been pleasantly surprising.
For starters, Tipsy Barrel Bourbons had one hell of an amazing website.
He skimmed through the site’s content a second time, now that he was sufficiently caffeinated: a brief history of the town, what inspired Max Williams to take a stab at crafting his own bourbons, and the many infusion options. The latter impressed Alex most. For such a small operation, Williams certainly had an ample infusions list—definitely worth checking into. If his offerings tasted as good as they sounded, Tipsy Barrel Bourbons would make an excellent addition to his book.
Question was, would the small-town distillery still be in operation by the time his book released? Sadly, he’d seen so many go under before their five-year anniversary.
Alex jotted down some notes, then sat back in his chair, eyeing the nearby bed. Comfy or not, he hadn’t slept very well last night. His mind had been too busy, his thoughts pinging from one thing to another.
Mia. The gentle creaking of the old Craftsman home. His editor’s request. The web of lies he’d spun. More Mia.
The perfect solution would have been to steal downstairs, crawl into her bed, and scratch his seventeen-year itch. Sex was always great for taking his mind off everything, if only for a while. Though maybe that was part of the reason he couldn’t sleep—because what he’d longed for all these years was so close and yet still so far out of reach.
His phone buzzed with a new text from Tom.Status update?
Alex grinned.Breakfast was a hit.
You’re stalling. Now get your ass out of the kitchen and tell her already.
Hell yeah, he was stalling. What did Tom really expect him to do? Kneel down before Mia and admit the entire reason he’d been a massive jerk to her that day back in college was because he’d fallen for her and had been heartbroken to find out she was weeks away from receiving an engagement ring? That he’d made such a big scene to push her away because he couldn’t stand the thought of being so close to what he couldn’t have, day after day? And that all these years later, he still regretted taking the noble course instead of trying to steal her away for himself?
That’d go over well. She’d kick him straight to the curb.
Rather than broadside her with a confession about years of pent-up emotion, Alex wanted to ease into things with her. Start with a simple date, maybe dinner over at the town’s awesome diner, and see where it took them. This time, he was determined not to blow it.
And that look on her face when he hinted about what could have happened between them upstairs? Priceless.
He still had a chance with her if he played his cards right.
You can’t rush perfection, he texted back to Tom.
On a grin, he crawled back into his guest bed, planning to rest his eyes until the girls got back from church. Would they have a long service? Stay after and talk with friends and family? It’d been years since he’d attended church with his folks, theirs now of the mega variety—thousands of members but very few who he’d developed real connections with. He closed his eyes, thinking back to his youth and the smaller congregation they used to be members of. His mother, the social butterfly. His father, always working the crowd…
“Alex?”
