Page 22 of Coming Home

“You’re happy, though, aren’t you?” Jackson asked.

“I am,” she freely admitted. “Unlike so many others who are desperate to leave the Cove, all I wanted to do was come back to my hometown and fill a need in the community.”

They finished their appetizer, which was soon replaced by their entrees. Jackson poured her another glass of wine. Ainsley didn’t want it but didn’t want to sound churlish by refusing it, especially because he had gone to the trouble of finding out what she preferred.

As they finished the meal, he talked some about his caseload and what it was like to be a trial lawyer.

“My last criminal case, though, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My client was accused of raping and murdering a young woman in her early twenties. I got him off and only hope I don’t live to regret that.”

Their server appeared. “Any dessert tonight?”

Jackson looked to her. Ainsley shook her head. “Much as I would like to try something, I am too full.”

“Just the check, please,” he said as Ainsley turned her head away, stifling a yawn.

They paid the bill and went to his car. Once more, he opened her door for her. She slid into the leather seat, yawning again. She never stayed up this late, and the two glasses of wine and her full belly didn’t help matters.

He got inside the car, rubbing his hands. “It’s a little cold out. Want your seat warmer on?”

“Sure.”

She couldn’t imagine having a car this nice. Hers was functional, but luxuries such as seat warmers or Sirius XM radio weren’t a part of her world.

As Jackson drove, she felt the warmth envelope her and yawned again. Her eyes began to droop. She closed them a moment, wanting to rest them just a bit, but she slipped into the darkness.

CHAPTER 8

Jackson asked Ainsley a question. When she didn’t reply, he glanced over.

She was fast asleep.

He didn’t realize he had become so boring that he would put a woman to sleep on their first date. Up until now, he had thoroughly enjoyed the time he’d spent with Ainsley. She was easy to talk to. He appreciated how she had opened up and shared a part of her past that must have been a painful time in her life, one that still haunted her today. He appreciated how smart she was. How she’d worked from the time she was young, wanting to support her family. How she hadn’t let the past get in the way of building her present and future.

Then it hit him. She was exhausted. That’s why she had fallen asleep.

As he and Gage had run this morning, Jackson had teased about how early Game Night had broken up. Gage explained that it always did because he, Ainsley, and Rylie had businesses to run, ones which saw their busiest times on the weekends. In the past, Carter would have been included in that group, with his twelve-hour firehouse shift starting at seven the next morning. Willow and Dylan consistently got up well before the sun because they were runners. Dylan often had Saturday events to work, making his presence known at the farmers’ market or youth sports games. Willow was all about capturing the light and began painting soon after the sun came up, wrapping up her day in the late afternoon.

Guilt flooded Jackson, having kept Ainsley out so late. The clock on the dashboard read ten-twenty. While he was used to running on very little sleep, he now realized Ainsley had already been hard at work yesterday morning when he ran through the town square. She probably rose at three or so and went downstairs, getting a head start on baking donuts, croissants, and other pastries customers bought for their breakfasts. Then she would also spend a good portion of her day in the kitchens, baking the many items in her display cases. Even though she had told him she had hired additional help, Ainsley would be a hands-on owner, working from well before the bakery opened until after hours.

That didn’t even take into consideration the books she would have to keep. Supplies that needed to be ordered. Deliveries that had to be made. She had probably gone straight home from Game Night and fallen into bed, up early for the Saturday rush this morning. Sundays would be much the same, with people wanting donuts and pastries for their weekend breakfasts and churches placing orders for donuts for Sunday school classes.

Why hadn’t she mentioned this when he set the time for their date? He would have easily adjusted it to a couple of hours earlier. He had to remember he was in a small town now. People rose early and went to bed early. They worked hard for their livings.

Jackson reached over and slipped his hand around hers. He had taken it earlier in the restaurant. When he had told her he wanted to be more than friends. He also had wanted to let her know he found her attractive, especially after the hostess ignored Ainsley and flirted shamelessly with him.

He liked this woman. Very much. While he wasn’t ready to start planning a future with her, he could see that becoming a real possibility. No, a probability. Something had attracted him to Ainsley from the moment they had first spoken. The idea of love at first sight seemed improbable. At the same time, he wanted to get to know her better. Find out what she liked to do. What her favorite foods were. What kind of books she read. He was at a point in his life when the idea of settling into a marriage and having children appealed to him greatly.

Doing so with this sleeping beauty was worth pursuing.

He pulled into the alley behind the square and turned into the spot behind Buttercup Bakery’s rear door before cutting the engine. His hand still covered hers. He leaned closer and caught the scent of vanilla. More than anything, Jackson wanted to kiss her awake—but he had never taken advantage of a woman and wouldn’t start now, especially with one he was interested in building a relationship with.

Instead, he said softly, “Ainsley? Ainsley, wake up.”

She stirred. His eyes went to her mouth and that full bottom lip that was so sensual.

“Ainsley?” he repeated, a little louder.

She smiled sleepily and stretched, the sweater dress she wore clinging to her breasts. Then she blinked a few times. Suddenly, a look of horror crossed her face.

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