Page 9 of Sweet on You
4
Lex
As I turned the key and entered my one-and-a-half-bedroom apartment, I was met face on with how dull my life appeared to be. At least from a day to day perspective. Even if drama simmered below the surface, like an active volcano. From the outside, I looked like a boring ol’ mountain.
Inside, I was hot, steaming, percolating, and dangerous. And at any moment, my life could explode.
I rubbed my eyes as I shut the door behind me. This was exactly why I’d said no to Ronnie a month ago when she asked me out. This was exactly why I shouldn’t have asked her out today. But no matter what, I found myself inexplicably drawn to her, despite my best efforts to keep my distance. In a town where I had no family, the Tripps welcomed me with open arms.
I sighed and looked around at my boring apartment above the bakery. It had generic furniture. A sofa, tv, small dining area and decent sized kitchen. I never bothered hanging anything on the wall, because even though I had signed a two-year lease, it wasn’t meant to be my home forever. And in my closet? There were no leather jackets and cool sunglasses like Ronnie’s friend James had worn today. It was filled with v-neck sweaters, polo shirts, jeans, and dress pants. And if I was being honest? Most of my stuff was still in boxes up in the unfinished loft of the apartment. Just in case I found myself needing to pack up and move elsewhere at a moment’s notice.
I tossed my keys onto the small shelf by the door as Frost, my fluffy white cat weaved between my feet, purring. I sighed and scooped her into my arms. She immediately took her spot on my shoulders—which was no easy feat as a fifteen-pound cat. But my shoulder was her favorite perch. I smiled and scratched beneath her chin as she nuzzled against my stubble. “Hello, old girl. I hope your day was better than mine.”
Meow.
“What do you say we bake some apology muffins, hmm?”
Silence.
“No? Maybe an I’m sorry cake?”
Silence.
“Humble pie, maybe?”
Meow.
“You’re completely right. Humble pie, it is. Paleo, just how she likes it. I won’t even tease her about it.” Even though teasing had become some sort of g-rated foreplay between Ronnie and me. We had each grown to anticipate it—expect it. And in some ways, it excited me more than watching her on her morning runs. Admittedly, she didn’tknowI saw her nearly every day. There was a small window bump out in my apartment—almost like an attic overlay up a small spiral staircase. It wasn’t a finished room—yet. But it could be. It was my favorite place to sip coffee in the early morning before the rest of the world was awake. Four in the morning—my favorite moment of the day, was that slice of silence I got before I began baking for the morning rush. And every morning at that time, Ronnie ran right by my apartment, paused by the water fountain for a quick sip and a hamstring stretch… then continued on her run.
I’d seen her on that morning run weeks before we ever met in person and something about her had captivated me. It wasn’t her beauty—which, yes, she was beautiful. It was her determination. Her tenacity. I’d never met anyone with that sort of discipline to wake up before the sun so consistently. No one other than myself. As a baker, the alarm going off at three-thirty in the morning was a regular thing. But it was also the number one reason relationships didn’t tend to work out for me. Most women didn’t enjoy a boyfriend who needed to be in bed by 9:00 p.m. in order to be well rested for a 3:30 a.m. wake up call.
For a month, I watched her run every morning. Not on purpose—and not in a creepy way. Simply, I woke up before work, had my coffee… and there she’d be. Whether it was rainy, snowy, or sunny out, she ran. I sat there that first month, sipping my coffee, wondering who she was. Until one Father’s Day morning, I rang the doorbell of the Tripp family home to deliver a blueberry crumble pie—and there she was again. The runner.Myrunner.
I moved into the kitchen, grabbed the almond flour, eggs, honey, and coconut cream as Frost continued to purr in my ear. I turned my head to the side, dropping a quick kiss behind her ear. “If you get fur in this pie, you’ll never be allowed to perch on me again while baking. You hear?”
Meow.
I washed my hands like a surgeon, up to the elbow, and just as I started mixing the dough, my phone rang. My landlord’s name lit up the screen.
With my elbow, I managed to hit the ‘answer’ button. “Hey, Nate,” I said. “Guess who I met today?”
“Uh… hi Lex,” he said. “I have no idea, who?”
“James,” I grinned, glancing at Frost, still perched on my shoulder.
There was a pause on the other line. “My… husband James? Where’d you two meet?”
“Through Ronnie Tripp. He was passing by on his way somewhere. Anyway, how’s it going?” I asked.
“Good, good,” he answered politely before getting to the point of his call. “I was wondering if you’ve given any thought to buying your building?”
I swallowed hard and sighed, my eyes shifting to the mortgage application that sat on the counter beside me. Taunting me. It was time to make a choice. Plant roots in Maple Grove or risk having to set up shop elsewhere.
“I… I’m not sure yet.” I answered, intentionally ambiguous. There was a lot to consider. I did have the money for the down payment… but it was my entire savings. And then there was the question of whether or not I could even get a loan to pay for the rest. Banks didn’t look too highly on small business owners. Not when it came to doling out money, at least. “I’m going to be honest, Nate. I don’t know that I can get the loan,” I admitted. “It’s not that I can’t afford a mortgage on the place, because I can. But I’m still new to this country. And as a small business owner with a fairly young business, I’m not a prime candidate for a loan…”
“I can actually help you there,” Nate gently interrupted. “I’ve got a buddy in banking who specializes in your type of riskier commercial mortgages. Let me connect you guys—you may have to pay a higher interest rate, but you can always refinance later, after the bakery is more established.”
I was speechless. Up until this moment, I didn’t quite believe this could truly happen. I didn’t think it was realistic that I could own this building. I gulped. The pressure was now truly on to make a choice to stay in Maple Grove. Though I still wasn’t sure, it didn’t hurt to get more information on this loan. But I liked Nate. He was a good guy and I didn’t want to string him along if he needed to sell sooner than later. “That’s really kind of you, Nate. I’d love to talk to him, but I’m going to be honest, I have a lot of personal things going on right now and even if I got the loan, I’m not sure it’s a good time for me to buy.”
