Page 25 of The Gingerbread Bakery
‘Well, if I were Estelle out on some top-secret wedding errand, the first place I’d go would be the café. Because how does anyone run top-secret errands without caffeine?’
‘Great,’ Mac said, backing out of the parking space, his arm draped over the back of Annie's seat.
‘Did she give you her number?’ she asked incredulously, glancing at the membership papers he’d tossed on her lap when she climbed in.
‘Maybe. Why, are you jealous, Annabelle?
Annie scoffed. ‘Why would I be jealous?’
Mac shrugged and Annie did her best to ignore the way his broad shoulders tugged at his coat.
‘I'm surprised you didn’t ask her to the wedding,’ she said half joking, half fishing for information.
‘How do you know I didn’t?’
‘Did you?’
‘Would it bother you if I did?’
‘Nope, not a bit. You are free to date whomever you please, Macaulay.’ She was glad she didn’t have to look him in the face when she said it.
‘That's very generous of you,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t ask her.’
Annie was not proud of the immediate relief that flooded her body. It was one thing to deal with Mac bringing dates to Christmas and other get-togethers, but she really didn’t think she could handle watching him with a date at something as romantic as a wedding. Watching him hold another woman in his arms while they danced together. She might have to topple her secret wedding dessert just to cause a distraction and get the hell out of there.
‘Well, that’s your business,’ she said, slumping in her seat. She caught Mac’s lopsided grin from the corner of her eye.
‘Why did you come back, anyway?’ she asked, needing to change the subject from exactly how jealous she got when she saw Mac with other women.
After enough years had gone by, she’d given up on the idea that Mac was ever coming back. Of course, she knew he visited his parents every once in a while, and she very deliberately avoided him when he did. She’d even planned an impromptu girls’ weekend with Hazel one year, just to make sure she was out of town on Mac’s mother’s birthday.
And then, when he had returned for good, she hadn’t given him the chance to explain anything. It had been nearly three years now and they hadn’t done much more than snipe at each other, and she was perfectly aware that was primarily her fault. But it didn't mean she wasn't curious.
Mac looked over at her like he was surprised by the question, because of course he was. Annie rarely asked him anything that wasn’t,why the hell are you here?Which basically, she still was asking, but nicer.
‘My dad was ready to retire, and I figured I’d been gone long enough.’
He’d been gone for eight years.
Not that she’d kept count.
‘And is it torture?’ she asked.
‘Is what torture? Running the pub?’
‘Being back here in Dream Harbor. I thought you never wanted that to happen.’
‘You remember more about that December than you let on,’ he said with a chuckle. And Annie was immediately transported back to that night so many years ago. Lying face to face with Mac in his bed and pouring out their fears to each other. She hadn’t done anything like that since.
She ignored his comment, not wanting to discuss that time any more than she wanted to discuss Mac’s dating life or her reaction to it.
‘So, do you hate it?’ she asked and for some reason that question felt like the most important one. When Mac left, he'd abandoned not only her but the town she loved. It pissed her off that he was able to simply walk back in and everyone embraced him like some sort of prodigal son. Annie wasn’t that forgiving.
‘No, I don’t hate it. I’m not nineteen anymore, Annie. I want different things than I did then.’ He had parked in front of The Pumpkin Spice Café and turned to look at her. She wanted to ask what he wanted now but she was afraid of the answer.
‘Well, I’m glad you don’t hate it here,’ she said. Her gaze flicked to his, and he was looking at her with such tenderness she wished she had never gotten in this truck in the first place; because if Mac kept looking at her like that, she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend to hate him.
‘How's your head?’ he asked.
