Page 23 of Scrape the Barrel
“Sage.” Lettie’s voice caught my attention, pulling me away from Callan. “Everyone loved your white chocolate cranberry scones. You have to make them for every meeting!”
I smiled, pleased to hear that they enjoyed them. They were a favorite at the cafe. “I’m glad to hear it. You can take home the extras,” I offered, sliding the container in her direction.
“You and Avery don’t want them?” she asked.
“Trust me, we have way too many sweets at home. They’re all yours.” Avery and I indulged in my baked goods too often. It was nice to be able to pawn them off.
Lettie pulled me in for a quick hug as Charlotte walked up, sifting through the pocket in her dress. Lettie let me go, giving me a quick squeeze on the arm before disappearing to talk with a woman that was on her way out.
“Thank you for bringing all of these. They were wonderful.” Charlotte held a folded paper out to me. “For the pastries and your time,” she explained.
I hesitantly grabbed it, unfolding it to find that it was a check—a very large one at that.
“Oh, Charlotte, you don’t have to—”
“No, I insist. It was very nice of you to squeeze this in at the last minute, and you blew it out of the park.”
Taking money for my work was necessary, but it didn’t stop me from feeling bad about it. Baking was my passion, and getting paid for it in return felt odd. At the cafe, it didn’t feel the same because that was at an actual business. But as myself, I didn’t feel good enough to be considered a business, let alone paid like one.
“Thank you.”
Charlotte slipped the lid off the Tupperware to sneak another pastry as Callan came up from behind me. If it wasn’t for her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, I would have known he was there by his sheer presence. My back thrummed with warmth like a heating blanket was draped over me and the man wasn’t even touching me.
“Cal, sweetie, help Sage with her things,” Charlotte got out after a quick swallow of her bite.
“Already on it,” he said, moving around me to take a stack off the table. My shoulder brushed his chest as he did and, not knowing how to get out of his way with the table on my other side, I leaned to grab the other stack.
He angled his head and nodded in the direction of the door, signaling me to go first. He followed behind, only coming around to open the doors on our way out.
The sun had disappeared, the lamp posts and moon lighting up the street. Propping a knee up, I balanced the Tupperware on my leg while I felt around for the latch on the trunk. Callan was glancing both ways on the sidewalk when my trunk lifted.We both set our stacks in, and he reached up above me to close the hatch.
Before he pulled it, he looked down at me, his face faintly illuminated now that night had fallen. Though the light was dim, I could see his eyes on me, and without blinking, he closed the trunk.
“Thank you for your help tonight,” I said.
“My pleasure,” he replied, then added, “The scones were amazing, by the way.”
I gave a small smile. “They’re definitely a favorite.”
He rolled his lips together as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his vest. “Get home safe, Sage.”
I nodded once. “You, too.”
Taking that as our goodbye, I turned, but before I could make it past my taillight, he said, “You look pretty tonight.”
I stopped in my tracks, taking a step back to look at him. “Thank you. You do, too.”
He smiled, and I was thankful it was dark out because I knew my cheeks were a deep shade of pink.
I just basically called the man pretty.
I got in my car and locked the doors before driving away, and through my rearview mirror, I saw that Callan still stood there, watching me go with his hands tucked in his vest.
He was just being nice. That’s all the compliment was.
But some part of me couldn’t help the pull of my lips on my drive to pick up Avery, a smile etched into my face the entire way.
He called me pretty.
