Page 81 of Friends Don't Kiss

“Tonka beans it is, but this stays between us.”

This time I’m the one high-fiving her.

I’m excited about the tonka beans but want to refocus on our project. “How about for texture? Toasted puffed quinoa for extra crunch? In general, I love candied ginger—but here I don’t want it to overpower the other flavors we have going. How about we keep it for the garnish?”

“Yes, I like that. Now, how do you feel about a drop of olive oil for extra smoothness?” she suggests.

“Oh, I’ve never tried that!”

“You’ll love it,” she answers, scribbling on her notepad. “Ok. What do you think?”

“I think we have enough to work with.”

“Agreed. Oh!” She turns to the oven. “Little challenge here for you. Just checking you don’t need a timer. Is this ready yet?”

I open the oven and glance at the genoise. The scent of butter and sugar wafts through the air, a good sign. But its color is uneven. “I don’t think so,” I answer. Just to be sure, I press lightly on its surface. The indentation stays, the cake not bouncing back. “I’d say ten more minutes.”

“Let’s keep an eye on it,” Annabel says, visibly satisfied with my answer. We spend the rest of the afternoon into the early evening chatting and baking. I’m out of my starstruck freeze, and I find myself discussing baking techniques and product sourcing as if Annabel were an old friend of mine. The pâte à bombe turns out spectacular, and Colton is blown away. And I get to taste and bake with tonka beans for the first time in my life, an experience I won’t forget.

“Isn’t she the best?” I ask Colton the moment we turn off her driveway, making our way home. “So cool and sweet. Who would have thought?”

Colton’s lips curve up. “She’s a baker, of course she’s cool and sweet. It’s a requirement. Didn’t you know?”

Over the course of that afternoon, I learned that Annabel’s husband, Roger the vintage car enthusiast, wasn’t there that day, which meant Colton spent several hours half participating in something he has a moderate interest in but I’m passionate about. It was a dream come true for me and, at best, a boring time for him.

And he did it all for me. As a date!

I slowly come down from my high to focus on the most important thing that happened today: Colton gave me a date that was entirely focused on me.

Overtaken by a wave of tenderness, I place my hand on his arm, then run it up to his neck, relishing the feel of his hair under my hand.

His mouth twitches as he glances at me.

“Thank you,” I say as I lean over the center console to kiss his cheek. “Best date ever.” I’m hit by the coconut scent of his shampoo in a way that moves me deeply.

The tenderness I felt a moment ago is fast turning into something way more intense, so I quickly retreat into my seat and let Colton drive us safely home.

twenty-nine

Colton

Herkissonmycheek burns like an ember. I want to stop the truck, bring her on my lap, and claim her lips.

But I don’t.

We’re not at the point where Kiara wants me in the I’m-crazy-about-you way, but I’ll get her there. I’ll get her to stop seeing me as a good friend. As her favorite mechanic. As a gaming buddy.

I’ll get her to see me as a man who could beherman and would be epically great at it.

The kind of man who knows exactly what kind of date his woman gets off on. I’d say in that respect I scored pretty high today.

How I pulled off the afternoon with Annabel, I’m not sure. It’s one of those things where Mom and Grace would say the universe is at work, and for once I wouldn’t roll my eyes.

The pear tart story about how we became friends was freaky enough, but the fact that when I called Annabel out of the blue a few days ago to find out her prices and book a session with Kiara if I could afford it, she’d said, “I’ve been wanting to meet her. Bring her in as a friend. I don’t work Mondays.”

After Kiara’s kiss, I stay focused on the road. As much as I want her to be mine, today was eye-opening for me.

I’d looked up Annabel and found out what a big deal she was. Seeing her interact with Kiara, I started measuring what Kiara had tried to explain to me: that Emerald Creek might be holding her back. That despite all the goodness that was there, it just wasn’t going to give her what she needed, wanted, and deserved.

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