Page 38 of You Cake My Breath Away

Gloria’s worried gaze moves to my dad, who clears his throat to bring me back to the present.

“Yeah,” I reply. “You too.”

Words evade me, and too many emotions pelt my armor. I turn and walk away, ignoring Dad’s voice as I head to my car.

Not now.

I can’t.

How could he move on? Did his and my mom’s love mean nothing to him? My own conscience chastises me the minute I think it. Not long ago I was pressing myself against Archer’s body, desperate for his touch. A touch I’ve apparently harbored a desire for since my husband passed. How am I any better?

Vomit pushes its way up my throat, and I force myself to pull over and get some fresh air. Sucking in large gulps of gas station air infused with the smell of burnt hot dogs, I finally find some clarity.

His eyes were shimmering.

Dad was full of life again.

He had a smile on his face and he was laughing. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him happy that I didn’t recognize it. Didn’t recognize something was changing over the past few weeks when he’d rush me out of the restaurant or not want me to linger after dropping off my desserts. Or was it me who didn’t want to linger? In his defense, he did always ask what I’d been up to, but he still keptthisfrom me.

A girlfriend.

My dad has a girlfriend, and she’s pretty. I’m sure she’s kind too, but I didn’t even give her a chance. I swept out of there so fast you’d only know I was there because of the treats I left behind.

My Bluetooth alerts me to a missed call once I get back into the car. Swiping the phone from my center console, I see two missed calls from my dad. I’m not ready to talk to him just yet. I’m not even sure what I’d say if I did call him back, but until I can process this, it’s better for me to stay silent.

***

The door to the bakery is propped open when I arrive, and the tell-tale sound of rock music drifts into my ears. A shiver works its way up my spine, and the hairs on my arms raise. What is he doing here?

Slipping in through the door, I find Archer on a step ladder nailing drywall. The entire wall separating the back of the house from the front is erected, and my breath whooshes out of me.

“What the hell?”

Archer doesn’t turn around, so I walk to where his phone is beside the speaker and lower the volume.

“Hey,” he yells, nearly falling off the ladder when he sees me. “Tilly,” he breathes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His teeth clamp down over his lips like a child who said a bad word.

I repeat myself.

The ladder creaks as he descends and wipes the caulking from his hands. “What does it look like?”

“You can’t come back after you deserted me for almost a week.” My voice cracks, and any chance I had to pretend I’m not affected is out the window.

“I’m sor—”

“Nope.” I halt his words, pulling an envelope from my bag and handing it to him. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve got another carpenter due here in half an hour, so please grab your stuff and leave.”

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Checks.”

His annoyed sigh and the accompanying eye roll nearly bring a smile to my face.

“For what?”

---