Page 57 of Whisking It All

“What about the hot chocolate?” Jamie asked, suddenly very much not wanting her to walk away.

“Rain check. If the bakery’s going to be ready to open this weekend, I’ve got to whip my staff into shape,” she said, mimicking a whisking motion and practically falling over herself to gather her shoes. She handed Jamie her towel, once again revealing the shadow of her bra through the wet fabric of her shirt, and ran up the steps that led back to The Barclay.

“Tessa!” he called after her.

“Talk to you later!” she shouted over her shoulder.

And then she was gone.

“What was that?” Gavin asked when they were alone.

Jamie sat on a nearby rock and began wiping sand off his feet and putting his socks and shoes back on. His socks stuck to the damp skin and chafed against hidden grains of sand he couldn’t see. “Who knows?” he grumbled.

“I think you know.”

Jamie glanced at his friend, his heart pounding in his chest. Did Gavin know about him and Tessa? Impossible.

Gavin gestured behind them to the area of the beach where he’d first found Jamie and Tessa. “You two were…having a good time,” he said carefully.

“She started it.” Jamie collected the used towels just to have somewhere to look that wasn’t Gavin’s face.

“Sure. She’s a kid.”

“She’s not—” He stopped at the sound of the growl in his voice, gathering himself before he continued. “She’s not a kid. She’s twenty-five.”

“She’s Ethan’s kid,” Gavin said, his voice suddenly harsher than Jamie had ever heard it.

“I know.”

“Didn’t look like you know.”

“I know.” Jamie scrubbed his hand over his face. “Jesus, fuck, I know.”

Gavin looked at him with such empathy that Jamie had to look away. After what felt like an eternity, Gavin cleared his throat. “We should go. It’s supposed to rain soon.”

Jamie nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the wad of towels in his hands.

“Jamie.” He glanced up at Gavin, the compassion in his friend’s face making him feel even lower than he already did. “You can’t.”

Jamie nodded, sure that if he said anything, he’d say too much.

“If you ever want to…talk…or something…I’m here to listen. About anything. Stays between us.”

Jamie met Gavin’s concerned gaze and nodded again, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. He didn’t deserve his friend’s understanding, not for this. And yet somehow, he still had it.

Why did that make him feel even worse?

Chapter 18

Jamie stared at the box on his desk as though it contained a dangerous animal, a tarantula or a snake or something, and not a bundle of yellowed note cards, their edges soft from years of handling and the ink gone blurry in places. He glanced at the clock. Sugar Grapes had been open for nearly three hours, and he hadn’t moved, his computer screen long since gone to sleep as he lost a staring contest with a fucking box.

Outside his office, the clank of silverware and muted din of conversation spoke to another busy brunch rush. Soon the crowd would shift towards lunch and the smell of frying bacon that suffused the air would give way to grilled fish and the house red sauce, a rich ragu simmered for hours with a full bottle of Nuthatch’s best red wine in each batch. He checked his phone again, but Whisky hasn’t written back.

That’s not who I want to talk to anyway.

Fuck.

At some point, he was going to have to go over to the bakery. He’d promised Ethan that he would stop by on opening day and report back with all the details so Ethan could pretend he hadn’t missed yet another major moment in his daughter’s life. Just ten more minutes, and then he’d go.

---