Page 102 of You Cake My Breath Away

Realization dawns on me. I never texted Shantel back after she asked me to come home soon. She didn’t know I was coming.Fuck.Hands shaking, I dial Shantel’s number. One ring passes before her exasperated voice is in my ear.

“Where the hell are you?”

“I’m here,” I yell back. And because there are more important things to do than yell at my pseudo-sister, I add, “Tilly’s not opening the bakery?”

“What do you mean you’re here? You’re supposed to be in Knoxville!”

Her screeching makes me pull the phone away from my ear. When she’s finally calmed down, I take a moment to gather my own thoughts.

“I came back to surprise her…to try and win her back.”

She growls at me. “Damn it, Arch. What kind of Hallmark shit you trying to pull here?”

My laugh is wooden. “You told me I needed to come back.”

“I didn’t mean today.” She sighs heavily and says something to Nora in the background. “Sorry, I should’ve been more clear. Baby brain.”

I lean against the door, struggling to gather my thoughts. Tilly flew all the way to Knoxville to see me, and I came here for the same reason.

“You could’ve given me a heads-up she was planning to come, you know. Text her and tell her to come home.”

“She’s calling me,” she says. “I’ll call you back.”

The line cuts off before I have a chance to say anything else, and I stand in front of the bakery that should be open and busy serving customers. I cup my hands and peer into the shop. Everything inside is ready. The tables are set up, the boxes are put together and on shelves, and the only thing missing, other than Tilly, are her sweet treats.

A plan formulates in my head, and without a second thought I rip down the for-lease sign and shoot off a bunch of texts to Shantel, Nora, and Tilly’s father.

I may not have gotten to tell the woman I love that she’s more than enough, but I’ll be damned if I don’t show her.

***

Grocery shopping with Mr. St. James is something I never thought I’d be doing, but as we traverse the aisles gathering ingredients to make Tilly’s recipes, I find his presence slightly calming. With a list in hand, he hums merrily, tossing a few bars of unsweetened chocolate into the basket.

“Are you going to marry my daughter?” he asks, adding a bag of flour.

Stunned by his question, I stop mid-stride. Adrenaline courses through my veins thinking about Tilly in a white dress, standing across from me, this time with me as her groom. Would I marry her? In a heartbeat. Would she marry me? Doubtful.

“If she’d have me, absolutely.”

He continues down the aisle as if he didn’t ask me a heart-stopping question. My skin is tingling, head swimming in the clouds.

“Her dreams have to be important to you,” he mumbles. “She’s lost too much already.”

I stop him, my hand resting on his forearm. “That’s why I’m here doing this. I won’t let her give up because I was an idiot.”

“This is all fine and dandy, but what happens when you leave? Will she have to move with you? Give up her bakery and her dreams again?”

I shake my head. “I’ll do whatever she wants me to.”

The words leave my mouth without another thought, and in my heart of hearts, I know it to be true. If Tilly asked me to stay, to give up the carpentry show, I would.

I know this is a conversation I should be having with Tilly, not her father, but I need him to know I’m serious about his daughter. I’ve always been serious about her. And it’s time I make sure she knows it too.

“Archer?” a woman’s voice stops me.

A cold sensation overtakes me and I’m frozen as I stare at my mother at the end of the aisle. Why is she here? She has maids that cook for her. She tilts her head, looking at Mr. St. James with a hint of confusion in her eyes.

“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” she asks, pushing her cart toward me.

---