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“I won’t be drinking at our wedding, that’s for sure. I’m worried that's going to be hard to go unnoticed.”
“Creating life is a pretty cool thing. You made a human, Hallie.” I keep my voice light.
“You’re right. I’m just not sure I’ll know what to do. Changing a litter box and buying cat food has been my extent of nurturing.” She fans her face as her eyes water. “I came off the pill a couple months ago and heard it can take a year or so for hormones to regulate again. Didn’t think it would be two months later.”
“With the amount of research that I know you’ll be doing about pregnancy, plus your motherly instincts kicking in, you’re going to be amazing, Hallie.” My hands reach for hers. “I don’t doubt you for a second.”
“It would just be nice to have you around more. You could be the fun auntie!” Hallie’s green eyes actually twinkle, and I feel my heart pinch.
“My chef career ismybaby.” My parents worked their asses off, and I need to do the same. “I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, and it’s finally taking off.”
“There are places around town that would make a great spot for yourownrestaurant.” Except there isn’t much room for growth with a career in a town like Beechwood Falls.
“Let’s talk about baby names.” I pivot the conversation and begin walking toward the trail back to the car.
* * *
A mile off the downtown strip, Ian and Rhett’s office and wood shop come into view. It’s nothing fancy. I’m the only car in the parking lot, questioning if we were supposed to meet here. Walking through the front, the receptionist is absent. I continue past the desk to the long hallway with a couple of doors. Taking a deep breath, my frustration grows because if he forgot about our meeting, I’m losing the afternoon with my aunt for nothing. Every room is empty. I glance out the window in the last office, and an old blue truck bed catches my eye. Ian’s father’s truck is peeking out from behind the wood shop.
Walking toward the shop, the echo grows louder. A crack of a log rings through my ears, and I pick up my pace. Just as I want to chew this man out for not telling me he was hiding behind the building, Ian comes into view, swinging the large ax. The thick log has him swing once more before splitting in half. I’d like to blame the heat for making me dizzy, but noticing his jaw is firmly set as he uses aggression to toss the logs aside, I picture him using the same strength to toss me around the bedroom. His rough, chapped hands sliding over my smooth skin. Crap. I’m no longer frustrated––at least not in the angry way anymore.
Ian still doesn’t notice me and picks up another log to split. I doubt I can swing an ax as effortlessly as he can. Setting it down, he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead. My eyes gravitate to his toned abs, and I find myself hoping he takes his shirt off to chop another few logs. As if he heard my thoughts or senses my arousal, he looks my direction with a knowing grin.
“You made it,” he greets, walking toward me.
“I nearly left because I couldn’t find you.” I fight to keep my eyes on his and not drop to the abs I know are hiding beneath his black tee. “We have a party to plan and you’re hiding out back, chopping wood.”
“Maybe you should try chopping wood sometime.” Ian walks through the wood shop door. “You’d probably be less angry.”
“Maybe I should have pushed you off the falls yesterday when I had a chance.” The smell of fresh-cut wood fills my nose as we walk farther into the shop.
“I rest my case, Daisy Girl.” He has always had a gorgeous smile that meets his eyes. I smirk because I’m not as annoyed as I want to be.
“Do you really need to use the ax when you have a machine to chop it for you?”
“Yeah. It benefits me in more than one way.” Ian’s eyes bounce around the shop, and I take it he doesn’t want to elaborate.
“So, I have a photographer lined up for the party.” He nods, but remains zoned out. “Areyouokay?”
“A lot is going on in my personal life. I’ll chop some more wood after we sort through things, and I’ll be good.” He clears his throat and claps his hands together.
“I get it.” I try to relate without actually knowing what is going on. But I also feel like I don’t have the right to know. “This meeting is about Hallie and Justin, and we need to make their night special for them. I’ll bring the appetizers, and Savannah said Rhett was supplying the alcohol.”
After spending time going over the details, Ian nods to the side. “Come, take a look at what I built for the wedding.” I trail behind him to a beautiful archway. Next to it is a bar, and a small table.
“Wow, they’re all gorgeous,” I say as I spot a beautiful dessert tier stained to match the other wooden builds. “Is that––”
“Hallie mentioned you might cater something bite-sized for the wedding.” I nod, stepping closer as he assembles the plates. “I made this with you in mind.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” I breathe, feeling my heart soften.
“Hopefully, you’ve gotten better at reading ingredients.” Humor laces his tone. I turn to face him, and my pulse goes wild as we mirror the same stance as that one night five years ago.
“You can’t eat cupcakes before dinner,” I scold Ian and stir my pasta sauce. “Wait twenty minutes.”
Ian takes a bite of the dessert and leans over the sink like he’s going to be sick. “You added salt instead of sugar.” A laugh erupts from me, pulling me out of the sorrow I had been feeling. The large jars were right next to each other on the shelf and my mind had been elsewhere.
“Serves you right.” The wine bottle in my hand rises to my lips as I take a swig. I don’t like the flavor of white wine, but it’s fuzzing the fact that today marks four months since my parents’ car crash in April. My laughter slows and the guilted pain makes itself at home again. I take another sip.
