Page 24 of Sweet Somethings

"That is too much," she protested.

"Not at all. You made my dinner very enjoyable."

"That's good. Sometimes I get in trouble for talking too much. You have a nice night. Maybe I'll see you at the movies."

"Maybe you will."

Despite his words, he really had no intention of going to the movie fest, but as he got closer to downtown, the sparkling lights in the trees around the square drew his attention. He could just check it out for a few minutes; he didn't have to stay.

The park was packed with people. In the center of the square, a dozen or so rows of chairs had been set up in front of a big screen, and Casablanca was already playing. Beyond the chairs, couples and families were also at picnic tables, sitting in beach chairs or sprawled out on blankets on the grass. Around the outskirts of the square were several tables set up to sell coffee, desserts, and other snacks.

He saw Donavan first, selling her Ethiopian coffee, then his heart sped up as his gaze moved to the next table—to Juliette.

She had on a red sweater and dark jeans, her long, brown, wavy hair flowing around her shoulders, her smile bright in the evening light. She had a middle-aged woman helping her sell desserts, which looked to be a good thing, since they had a line of eager customers. He wondered if they were all buying her Wish cookies.

He smiled at the memory of that ridiculous story. Who would ever believe a cookie could grant your deepest desire? But he supposed it was no different than believing in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny.

Not that he'd ever believed in any of those mythical characters. There certainly had never been any dollars tucked under his pillow at night after a tooth fell out, and Santa had never seemed able to find his house, but then they hadn't had a chimney. His mom had told him once that was the reason. It hadn't made him feel any better.

He thought about saying hello to Juliette, maybe buying one of her desserts, but he'd wait until the line died down. Glancing away from her table, his gaze caught on a child standing under the trees some distance away. He looked like the child Juliette had chased after earlier in the day.

He seemed too young to be all alone, and there was a wistful expression on his face, as if he wanted to be part of the crowd, but he just didn't know how he could be. It felt like he didn't belong there. There was certainly no family on a blanket or at a table, waving for him to come over.

He'd been that kid once—and probably at that age.

He didn't know what the child's story was, but he knew down deep in his gut that it was a story he'd heard before—lived before.

The question was: what to do about it?

He could try to talk to him, but the kid would probably run.

"Roman?"

Juliette's voice turned his head. He was surprised and bemused to see her standing in front of him. She had a small paper plate in her hand with two purple heart-shaped cookies on it.

"I saw you and thought if I couldn't get you to come inside the bakery, maybe I should bring the bakery to you. These are the infamous Wish cookies," she told him.

"They're pretty," he said, thinking she was even prettier than the cookies with her sparkly blue eyes, rosy-colored cheeks and soft pink mouth that he was itching to taste.

"They're also good. Care to try one?" she asked.

He was tempted—and not just by the cookies. He swallowed hard. "In a second." He tipped his head toward the trees. "Does that kid look familiar?"

"Oh, my goodness. That's the little boy from this morning. I have to talk to him."

He put a hand on her shoulder as she started forward. "Are you ready to run again?"

She frowned. "No. Why?"

"He saw you this morning, right?"

"Yes."

"Let me take him the cookies."

"You? A strange man, in the dark woods, at night, offering him cookies…"

"Good point."

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