Page 77 of All Dressed Up

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

How am I going to fix this?Will sulked on one of the Sugar Spoon’s vinyl pink stools, eating the yellow cupcake with milk chocolate icing that Abby had given him earlier. The blowup with Rachel was still heavy on his mind—strike that, her blowup. Whatever happened earlier was all her.

He still wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done wrong, and Rachel never came back to tell him.

Okay, yeah, he never should have suggested dancing to Amber, but why couldn’t Rachel believe him that nothing was going on between them?

After her walkout, he’d gone upstairs only to hear movement down in the flower shop an hour later. When he’d checked it out, he’d found Jesse behind the register, ringing up a customer. Not wanting to get into it with the old man, he’d decided to duck out the back door and call it a day.

After spending a few hours with his brother in the auto body shop, tinkering under the hood of an old car, he’d made his way to the Sugar Spoon bakery. It was Batter Up night, so he knew there wasn’t a chance he’d run in to Rachel. Only men—besides Emma and Abby—attended the Monday night ritual.

He’d let her cool off and try again tomorrow.

“Hey, handsome, want some cherry vanilla soda to chase that down?” Abby held up a clear pitcher filled with pink soda.

“Got anything stronger?”

“No. Emma won’t budge on getting a liquor license for the bakery.” She leaned in, touching his arm. “My hubby might have some vodka in his truck. Want me to ask him?”

Will glanced over at Brandon rooting for the Red Sox with some of the other guys gathered below the wall television. “Nah, I’m good.”

Abby set the pitcher to the side and rested her elbows on the counter. “So, why so glum?”

Just as she asked the question, Emma came over to join the conversation, a large pink mixing bowl and flour sifter in her hands.

He let out a frustrated breath. “Women. I’m glum because of women.”

“All women or just one?” Emma asked, setting her items down.

“One in particular,” he admitted. “Blond one.”

Emma gave him a sympathetic smile as she went to town sifting flour into the bowl. He’d been to a number of Batter Up nights and knew she was getting started on her spell. “So who’s tonight’s bachelor?” he asked. It’d been a while since he’d been to one of these events.

“Alan McPherson. Although, he sent me a text that he’s running late.” She looked up from her bowl, her gaze meeting his. “So, this woman. Did you get into a fight?”

Had they? It was hard to tell. He placed his hands on his knees. “We’re having communication issues.”

Emma chuckled. “Well, I’m sure things will work out.” She measured some vanilla extract into a measuring spoon.

He hoped so. Tomorrow would tell.

“So, I hear my dad is working for Rachel.”

“Yeah.” Should he apologize for giving Jesse his shiner? “You probably heard about my fist to his face.”

“I did.” She leaned in and whispered, “Thank you.”

“I’ll make sure he stays in line.” He chuckled.

“I don’t blame you.” Emma set her measuring spoon aside. “It’s crazy to think he’s really here, and I can run in to him any minute.” She reached behind her, picking up a sugar container. “I’m kind of surprised I haven’t.”

Will shifted on the stool. Her father’s reappearance unexpectedly after all these years had to be hard for her and for Sheila. He stared at Emma for a beat, not knowing really what to say, so he changed the subject. “You ready to tie the knot?”

“Oh yes. More than you know.” She went back to work on her batter, measuring out a cup of sugar and dumping it into the bowl. “There’s so much involved in planning a wedding, but I think I’m almost ready.” She paused, adding, “Although, I guess I still need a dress. Do you think I can stop by the boutique tomorrow and give the trunk another try? Maybe I could come by when my dad’s on his lunch break?”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Rachel tell you?”

Emma measured out a second cup of sugar, smoothing out the excess with her finger. “Tell me what?”

---