Page 9 of 40 and (No Longer) Fighting It
The name still made him grin. It was so like Claire. He remembered the Southern turns of phrase that would pop out of her mouth at the most unexpected times. Her entire class at the Institute of Culinary Education had loved the shy little Southerner. And he hadn’t been far behind the rest of them.
The memory of that feeling killed his amusement. Unfortunately he hadn’t been in a place for an emotion like that to surge. It had only been a year since he’d lost Kelly. He’d been filling every moment of time he could with work—hence his stint as a guest instructor at ICE, the top culinary arts school in New York. The work had helped; discovering an attraction to a shy, curvy pastry chef who’d been nothing like his wife had not.
And he’d reacted badly to it. To her. One of his greatest regrets.
He’d had no idea the decision to come down to Tennessee and Black Wolf’s Bluff for a few weeks would bring Claire back into his life, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.
Linc raised an eyebrow. “You think that’s a good idea after yesterday?”
Claire’s discomfort with him had been obvious, not only to him but to their friends. That she didn’t trust him, she’d made obvious. Not that he blamed her. No, he deserved whatever she felt. And maybe he should leave things at that—but he’d never been one to back down from risk. And there was something about seeing Claire yesterday that made this risk particularly compelling. When he’d chosen early retirement so he could begin a culinary career, he’d been approaching his forties and unhappy with everything in his life except his marriage. Getting older put things into perspective in a way spreadsheets and numbers couldn’t. He hadn’t wanted to regret not taking a chance on something new and exciting, and fortunately for him, Kelly had been supportive of that decision all the way.
Her death had only solidified that need, at least in all areas but the opposite sex. He’d run from anything vaguely resembling love ever since. Not that this…whatever this was with Claire was love. But he’d felt a zing of life when he saw her yesterday that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since he’d shut her down all those years ago. He loved sex, but it wasn’t affection, tenderness, something deeper and richer than mere physical sensation. That potential had been what scared him away from Claire the first time, and it had opened up for him again yesterday when she’d walked back into his life. For the next few weeks while he was here, he wasn’t going to ignore it. He was going to dive in headfirst.
Now all he had to do was convince the woman, who currently wanted nothing to do with him.
He’d always enjoyed a challenge.
“I’m going to ask Claire to collaborate on the restaurant.”
JD nearly spit out his swallow of coffee—which would’ve been a sorry waste of good coffee. Linc reached over and slapped his friend on the back.
“You never have done anything halfway,” JD finally choked out.
Linc grinned. No, he hadn’t.
A few minutes passed while JD recovered, then, “I mean, it makes sense. She’s already got the bakery to work on. And she’s got a helluva instinct for food.”
Linc agreed. She’d been top of her class at ICE.
No thanks to him. Not that he’d deliberately done anything to hold her back, but he hadn’t made things easy on her either.
Yeah, he definitely had regrets. Though Claire seemed to have done well for herself if JD’s confidence was anything to go by. And Linc found himself wanting to see just how well. Maybe it was simply a balm for his own mistakes, but he needed to see with his own eyes that she was okay.
“It makes total sense.” He finished off the last swallow of coffee and got up to put his mug in the sink. “Menu development is key, and Claire has the instincts and knowledge of this area to keep me from going too New York with it.”
“And given how much of a food snob you are, we all know you’d go too New York,” his friend teased.
Linc shot him a bird over his shoulder.
JD snickered. “Don’t take that attitude to Gimme Sugar.” As Linc headed out of the room, JD called, “Be sure and stop in to talk to Maria next door while you’re there. I want you to consider a special roast with her.”
Linc screeched to a halt. “A roast?”
JD sniggered. “Not that kind of roast. Her coffee shop adjoins Gimme Sugar. She might not be ‘fresh from the Guatemalan rainforest’ special”—JD lifted his coffee mug in salute—“but I definitely think we can come up with something locally unique that will benefit us and her.”
Hmm. Linc nodded. “Will do.”
He was headed down the mountain five minutes later. Retracing JD’s path from yesterday, he turned left at the highway and followed it until it turned into Main Street at the edge of Black Wolf’s Bluff. Gimme Sugar was on Main Street North, right before the road hit the town square. Linc pulled into a diagonal parking space directly across the street, exited his rental car, and stood for a moment surveying the wide building that contained Gimme Sugar and a coffee shop, Wildwoods Brew. The buildings along the street were in various stages of repair, but the dual shop that held Claire’s bakery was fresh and vibrant, the brick obviously reused but in fantastic shape, the wide windows with their crisp black frames modern without taking away from the hometown feel of the place. The front sidewalk and a small patio on the town-square side held round, red-canopied tables with fresh flowers and bright seat cushions, and the view inside Wildwoods Brew showed matching cozy furniture and full tables all the way to the front counter. Gimme Sugar was equally busy, he could see through the shelves that lined the front windows with tempting displays of pastries and cakes and gift baskets full of goodies. The atmosphere welcomed patrons in, practically wrapping you in Mama’s arms and inviting you to “sit a spell.”
He loved it, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised at the swell of pride that filled him as he crossed the street.
A small bell tinkled as he entered the bakery. Glad the crowd obscured him for a moment, he wandered around, taking in the offerings, using his critical eye to analyze—and finding nothing he would change. Claire obviously knew her customers well, and every dessert option seemed tailored to discerning tongues without being so upscale as to frighten away the everyday patron. The dozen people waiting were obviously appreciative, as was he. Choosing a few treats to take back to JD’s with him, he made his way slowly toward the counter but waited for a lull to approach.
Claire entered from the kitchen area just as he walked up to the young lady at the cash register.
“What are you doing here?”
He and the cashier both jumped at Claire’s sharp question. “Pardon me?”
