Page 25 of Marrying Hope

HOPE

“How can I help, Ms. Davis?” William, the butler, asks me again.

I thought butlers only existed in movies.

But no, here in my kitchen is an elegant man, possibly in his late fifties. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly smoothed with a side part. He’s dressed immaculately in a Windsor-cut shirt, gray tie, and even awaistcoat.

When my gaze drifts to the floor, of course, his shoes are polished to a shine.

“Um, would you like to change first?”

William gives me a soft smile. “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Davis.”

Of course, these are his work clothes, you stupid woman.

I glance at Zach who has taken a seat on one of my kitchen chairs. Even in my small kitchen he looks like he’s ready to enter a boardroom and order people around.

I’m not surprised Ray mistook him for a prince. Zach does have that kingly or princely vibe, and on top of it, his cocky overconfidence just adds to that.

But there is a hidden softness to his cheekiness. I still can’t believe he gave me a ride to the store at this time of night. Everything about him is foreign to me.

William softly clears his throat and breaks my monologue. “Tell me, how can I be of service, Ms. Davis?”

For a moment I’m tongue-tied. I am not used to such kindness but thankfully I’m able to find the words after a beat. “I have a big baking order. The bases are standard, but—” I hesitate “—I specialize in decoration.”

“I think you are being modest, Hope.” Zach interrupts his typing on the laptop that William brought for him. “She is quite famous around here, Will. She makes these superhero and cartoon cupcakes which are fucking copyrighted.”

My cheeks warm up under his approval and I notice the boyish look that pulls on Zach’s face when he’s excited. My eyes catch a glance of my Ray in him, warming my heart.

“I can start with the base preparation and see how it goes.” William picks up one of the extra sifters and starts his work.

I realize soon that it would have been real stupid of me to deny William’s help. As much as it crushes my self-esteem, Zach found me the best guy. Tonight, we placed everything in the oven in half my usual time. After the cakes are baked, I should let them cool down and then start with the icing.

I look at the clock. Even with the extra help, I’m running out of time.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Teager?” William asks, taking me by surprise.

Why aren’t they rushing to wherever their home is?

Zach glances up to me for permission.

“I can’t ask you to stay any longer. It’s been a great help, but I can’t take any more advantage of your kindness.” My last words muffle as I swallow back the lump in my throat. They most likely don’t know how much their support means to me and how much it’ll affect my day.

“Hope, you don’t need to throw all these emotional words at me. William and I don’t mind staying.” Zach gives me his pointed look and his openness takes me by surprise. We have met only this evening, but Zach is like one of those people who have the power to become the highlight of any moment. His larger-than-life personality barges in your life from the very first moment. “And how the hell are you planning to deliver the cakes? Or are you going to walk there as well?” he adds with his eyebrows furrowed.

Shit! I forgot my van didn’t start earlier.

If Zach leaves, I’ll have to ask Hank to send someone to pick up the delivery. I flinch at that thought. I would rather die than take a favor from him.

“Don’t overthink.” Zach shuts his laptop. “Just let Will make us some coffee, and if you really want to thank me, give me something to eat.”

I’m not sure if he’s joking, but then he gets up from the chair and rubs the back of his neck. His gaze frantically jumps around the kitchen and once again in his irritated face I catch a glimpse of Ray.

“Why didn’t you say anything before if you were hungry?” I ask him in the same manner I use with my son.

William starts the coffee machine while I take out the leftover pie from the fridge and cut two pieces for each of them.

Zach glances at his plate. “What? No ice cream?”

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