Page 50 of With This Ring

“I could never match her recipe. Hers was always the best.”

He shook his head. “Yours was just as good.”

“You’re not a very good liar, Hud,” she said. “Remember that time I tried to bake you some as a surprise and nearly set my mom’s kitchen on fire because I forgot to set the timer?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled. “We were watching a movie, and I asked you where the smoke had come from.”

“All of the smoke alarms went off, and we had to open the windows. It was so cold out too.” She leaned back on the counter. “I can still hear my mom yelling at me. She said, ‘Dakota Marie, close those windows. Are you trying to heat the entire neighborhood?’”

They both laughed, and it felt good.

“Don’t forget the time you gave me a loaf at school on Valentine’s Day, and I dropped it in the middle of the hallway. The aluminum foil burst open and sent crumbs everywhere.”

“That was such a mess.”

“Ms. Lawrence made me get a broom and clean it up.”

“I had finally baked you a decent loaf, and you dropped it.”

They both laughed again, and when the sound faded away, they stared at each other. For the first time since he’d returned home, he almost felt as if he and Dakota could be friends.

He gestured to the hallway. “Do you have time to give me a quick tour?”

She hesitated, and his smile flattened. Who was he kidding? He and Dakota could never move beyond the past. There was too much hurt between them. Too much left unresolved.

“Never mind.” He collected the banana bread and started for the door.

“Wait. I’ll give you a quick tour, but then I really need to get ready for guests.” She led him down a short hallway and pointed to an open door. “That’s my little office slash sewing room.”

Hudson stuck his head in the doorway and took in a desk, a few shelves packed with books, and a sewing table where bolts of material, a sewing basket, and a pile of clothes sat. He recognized the gray Singer sewing machine, which used to sit on a similar table in the spare room at her parents’ house. He recalled the hours she’d spent creating dresses, skirts, and outfits for herself, family members, and friends. She had even designed her own prom dresses.

She’d been breathtaking in a red gown she had copied out of a fashion magazine. The dress had fit her like a glove, and in his opinion, she’d been more elegant than the model in the picture she’d copied.

He’d been so proud to have her on his arm that night. And they’d danced and laughed the night away. It had been magical. That evening he’d been certain he could never love her more, but somehow he had fallen more and more in love with her with each passing day.

A strange warm feeling rushed over him, and he tried in vain to shake it off.

“And this is my bedroom.”

He spun toward the room across the hall.

“Great,” she grumbled. “That silly cat has been at it again.” She hurried around the bedroom picking up a box of tissues, a book, a bottle of water, and a jewelry box, then set them on her dresser.

“Looks like he earned his name.” Hudson surveyed the room containing a double bed, a nightstand, a couple of dressers, and a vanity. The walls were a faded pink, and a border featuring a country scene with a house and a meadow lined the top of the wall, its edges beginning to peel away.

The hint of her flowery perfume wafted over him, and he turned toward her, taking in how pretty she looked in a gray skirt and pink sweater. Her dark hair fell around her face, and her subtle makeup was just enough to accentuate her high cheekbones, full lips, and those bottomless dark eyes.

“Yes, he did.” She made a frustrated noise. “You should have been here the other day when I got home and discovered he’d decided to drag the toilet tissue all around the room while I was at work.” She pointed to a door. “That’s why I have to make sure I close both the bathroom door in here and the one in the hallway before I leave for work.”

He tried to imagine what it would be like to be here with herevery day. If they had gotten married, would they have settled down in Flowering Grove and had a family?

Her eyes locked on his, and for a moment he wondered if the same thought had occurred to her.

But if hehadstayed in Flowering Grove, where would he be now? He certainly wouldn’t have achieved the success he had in New York City, which now provided for his aunt and sister.

Dakota started toward the doorway. “That’s pretty much it. I have a tiny laundry room that really doesn’t qualify as a room at all and a small deck and yard. It’s nothing like the place where you’re staying. In fact, that impressive house doesn’t fit on this street at all. I don’t know why someone decided to build it here.”

“You have a great house. Very homey.” He walked behind her, squelching his yearning to reach out and touch her arm.

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