Page 7 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

“Yep, all the land. Have you given any more thought to Marla’s offer?”

“I mean, a bit.”

“But?”

Frowning, I tap my stubby fingernails against the gleaming, black countertop. “I still don’t understand why she’d ask me. Sure, I can bake, but operate a business? That’s a stretch. I’d probably run the thing Marla’s built into the ground.”

“What are you talking about? You’re super smart.” He washes his hands in the sink.

“No,you’resuper smart, Mr. MBA.” I round the island to grab a handful of plates and napkins from his cupboards.

“Whatever.” Jordan shuts off the faucet and flicks me with some water.

I squeal and push on his muscled arm. “Hey!” Leaning down, I use the sleeve of his Henley to wipe away the moisture. “It’s true. I’m no business genius.” I settle back against the counter and sigh. “Then again, Marla’s already built the business. If I just keep things exactly as she has them, maybe it’d be okay. There’s just the whole matter of getting a loan to be able to buy her out. And that would be next to impossible.”

Because we both know that Donny shot a hole in my credit with all the ways he drained our accounts and racked up debt on our joint credit cards before he left me to shovel my way out. I’ve been working hard to get out from under it all, but even now, it feels heavy.

“You never know. Maybe Pete over at the bank would give you a shot. He’s known you forever.” He dries his hands on a towel and reaches out to rub my elbow.

“Maybe. But unlikely.” His touch is the reassurance I need to shake off the gloom of the past. “I’ve been thinking that I could maybe sell my half of the house to Blake and Lucy.”

“Wow. Are you really ready to do that? I know what that house means to you.”

“I know, but with the baby coming…I just sort of feel in the way, you know?”

“I’m suretheydon’t feel like you are.”

“Not yet, maybe.” I shrug, heat stinging the back of my eyes. “But I want them to have time to truly be alone before the baby comes. I could sell to them, find an apartment, and use the extra money to buy out Marla.”

“You could.”

I sense the hesitation in Jordan’s tone. Craning my neck upward—because Jordan’s got a good twelve or fourteen inches on me ever since his massive growth spurt junior year of high school—I study him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Going up on my tiptoes, I steal his hat and ruffle my hands quickly through his blond hair, which he’s let grow a bit longer than usual. “Nope. Unacceptable answer.” Moving away, I turn and hop up onto the island across from him, sticking his hat on my head instead.

He laughs. “Dork.”

I open my arms and pretend to bow my head as if I’m curtsying. “Why thank you. I resemble that remark. Now.” I wag my finger at him. “Exactly what are you thinking, Jordan Thaddeus Carmichael?”

“I’m thinking that I regret telling you my middle name.”

“Ha ha. I’m being serious here. I value your opinion, and you’re one of the only ones I trust to always tell me the truth.”

He blinks at me for a moment before sighing and crossing his arms. “I guess I just wonder if you reallywantto take over the bakery. What about your own cake decorating business? I thought you were considering doing that.”

“I was, but…” My mouth scrunches. “There’s a lot of risk in it, you know? I need the security of a job. I’ve enjoyed taking on some cake decorating on the side, as much as Marla will let me, but she seems to think there’s not enough of a demand in town to be a sustainable part of her business. And she’s been running The Blackberry Muffin for thirty years. She would know.”

“Not necessarily. Things change. More people have moved to this area, and she’s never really tried it, other than letting you take on a handful of commissions this last year.”

“I guess.” Either way, this is an opportunity to really think about what I want to do with my life. The only for sure is that I want to stay here, with my friends and family. And I want to bake in some way. But what I make right now at the bakery—even full time—isn’t necessarily sustainable in the long-term.

I blow out a breath.

Jordan steps forward and places his hands on my shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Lee. You don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

“You’re right. Thank you.” Smiling, I place my hands over his. Something swoops in my stomach. Must be hunger pangs. “What I need to do right now is eat. When is everyone else getting here?”

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