Page 8 of Coming Home

Ainsley had had a massive crush on Jackson when she was in seventh grade. He was a senior in high school and the quarterback of the championship football team. He also starred at guard for Salty Point High’s basketball team and played outfield on the baseball team. Jackson was not only athletic but very, very smart. He had won an academic scholarship to college. As a twelve-year-old, Ainsley had thought Jackson Martin the ideal man, hoping to marry the handsome senior one day. Not that she had ever spoken a word to him.

But a little girl could dream.

He had left the Cove, and like many young people, hadn’t come back. She heard through the gossip mill that he’d graduated from law school and gone to work in the district attorney's office in L.A., a world far away from the Oregon coast. She had run into Jackson’s sister in Paris, where Willow was studying and painting and Ainsley was attending l’Ecole Len?tre, one of the best-known pastry schools in the world.

Willow had recently returned to the Cove after the death of Boo, her grandmother. Ainsley had catered the memorial celebration at Boo’s house and reconnected with Willow, who was now one of her closest friends. Ainsley had seen Jackson at Boo’s but hadn’t spoken to him, her throat tightening just at the sight of the matured, even more handsome man he’d become.

Ainsley knew Jackson would be coming to visit the Cove, thanks to Willow sharing that information a few nights ago when they had dinner together, along with Rylie and Tenley.

She resolved this time if she ran into Jackson, she would speak. And hoped that whatever came out of her mouth made sense.

Suddenly, he veered toward her. Startled, she retreated a few steps as he ran to the bakery’s door and peered in. He caught sight of her and waved, his smile making her go weak in the knees, as if he were some leading man, stepping off the movie screen and into real life.

“Ainsley?” he asked, or rather mouthed, since she couldn’t hear him through the thick glass.

She stepped to the door and opened it. “Hi,” she managed to get out, feeling tongue-tied and much like that seventh grader who had crushed hard on Jackson Martin.

“Hi, I’m Willow’s brother. Jackson. I saw your light on. You’re certainly an early bird.”

“I’m in the bakery by three every morning. There’s lots to get done and put into the ovens in order to be ready to open at six-thirty.” She swallowed. “You’re also up extremely early.”

“I’m a runner,” he explained. “I usually would be up and run between four and five each morning before I got ready for a very long day. In L.A.”

“I know. You’re an attorney. I’m friends with Willow. She told me.”

He smiled again, causing her heart to begin to pound rapidly. “And my sister told me you make the best sweets around. That you’re a terrific baker. I’m not much into sweets, but Willow swears you can change my mind.”

“I’d like to try.” She almost cringed at how that came out. She didn’t want to flirt with him.

Or did she?

“I won’t keep you now. I will come back by the bakery later this morning. I’ve got a meeting with Clancy Nelson. Thought I could bring him something sweet to put him in a good mood.”

Ainsley laughed. “Sweets will definitely do the trick with Clancy. He’s a sucker for fruit tarts. Cookies. And any kind of pie on the planet.”

“Would you mind putting a little something together for me to take to him?”

She smiled. “I can do that. When is your meeting?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“It will be ready by ten-fifteen,” she promised, thinking what she might include.

“I appreciate it. And I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight, as well. Willow said something about Game Night?”

She nodded, swallowing as she thought of a night in this man’s company. “Yes. Tenley and Carter are hosting tonight. They bought the Garner place and have been doing all kinds of updates to it. The downstairs is ready, so the gang is heading there to see the work already completed. We usually have dinner and then play a few games. Have a few drinks and laughs.”

“Sounds like exactly what I need.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your baking. See you later.”

He gave a wave and took off again. Ainsley watched him jog away, his tall, athletic frame very appealing. He had runner’s calves, muscled and well-developed, along with a natural grace.

She closed the door and went to get her coffee, doctoring it carefully, deciding what to include in a little gift basket to Clancy.

Gus appeared, startling her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quietly.

“You’re fine. I was just woolgathering.”

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