Page 29 of You Cake My Breath Away

“My memory works just fine,” I reply, toying with the cake charm on my bracelet.

Archer is good-looking. He knows this. He knew I was attracted to him back then, and just because I fell in love with his best friend doesn’t mean I didn’t still find him attractive.

Any red-blooded person would.

Even though we’ve only been working together a short amount of time, it reminds me of college when we were Chemistry partners and I found it exceedingly difficult to keep my eyes on my work.

I seem to be having the same problem now.

Doing projects together was something Jessie and I did. Okay, well watching Jessie put together the IKEA items we bought was more mything, but I at least provided the caramel balsamic mochis to keep our bellies filled as we laughed over him putting it together wrong.

That must be what it is.

Working with Archer makes me miss Jessie. I’ve been so wrapped up in his gift to me that I haven’t gone for my monthly visit to his grave site. Maybe that’s my problem. I need to remind myself of the man I married.

“What do you want to work on today?” he asks.

My self-control.“Painting.”

He nods and pulls a keyring of swatches from his toolbox.

“Are you prepared for everything?” I ask, surprised as he hands me the paint samples.

They’re all bright colors. Not a dark one in sight, like he knew I wouldn’t dare put a muted color on the walls.

“I was a Boy Scout, of course I am.” He laughs and goes back to marking up another two by four.

I search through the swatches, noting I have clothes in every shade he’s provided. Jessie probably picked out the swatches before he passed.

“I’ll pick up whatever color you choose while I’m out.” He places clear protective glasses over his eyes.

Archer makes safety sexy.

I chastise myself for the errant thought. Why, after years of indifference, is my brain trying to reconnect the pathway to my heart, and below, toArcher, of all people. Annoyed, I grab the roll of light blue chevron wallpaper, holding a lilac swatch against it. The tones are complementary, and an image of the bakery in all its glory fills my mind. White decorative paneling splitting the wall, a splash of color on the top half, and three or four tables for patrons to come for a quick treat and a cup of coffee. It’ll be amazing. Much better than the bookshop around the corner.

Briefly, I imagine a display case filled with Bundt cakes and small bundtlets for the people who want a quick treat rather than a full dessert. The thought brings me back to when I made the wedding cake for Archer’s sister’s wedding, the one he dogged to his friends, and immediately my mood tanks.

“This one is fine.” I throw the swatch on the counter and make a line where the paneling will go.

“Uh, okay.” Archer picks up the paper. “This color will look good with the blue.”

Anger simmers beneath my skin. “I know.”

His face scrunches up like he wants to say something, but he stays mum and goes back to cutting wood. We work in silence for the next two hours, barely speaking to one another. An alarm goes off and Archer slides his phone out of his pocket, his face going from a smile to a slight frown.

I stop myself from asking why he looks like that. We aren’t friends, and his life outside of this building is none of my business. For all I know, he may be meeting someone for an afternoon date.

My shoulders curl inward, drawn by the pulling sensation in my gut.

“I’ve got a meeting.” He unplugs the saw like I can’t be trusted with power tools. “I’ll pick up your paint and a can of primer for the paneling. Anything else you need while I’m out?”

“Nope.” My answer is short, like my fuse at this point.

He leaves, and my entire body sags to the ground. I thought I had to worry about Archer bailing on our project because of how much he dislikes being around me, but I’m dangerously close to pulling the plug because I can’t get a grasp on my own feelings.

A train of envy chugs around my chest, but a prickling in the back of my mind slows the train on its tracks. The only logical answer for theway I feel is that maybe I am ready to get back into the dating field and I’m jealous that dating comes easier to everyone else.

Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

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