Page 76 of Versions Of Us

“Whoa! Settle down,” I laugh. “Those are ten kilograms each. We’re feeding the town not the entire country.”

He gives me a look that lets me know this information is irrelevant to him. “So… just one then?”

I tilt my head to the side contemplating how many muffins, slices and brownies I’ll be able to get out of one bag. Surely way more than I could possibly have time to bake.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll take one. It’s better value anyway.”

A lot of the baked goods I’m making are made at the café from time to time. They’re mostly things I’ve had a lot of experience with, so the ingredients and steps are etched into my memory.

We move through the store picking out the items I’ve written down in a list on my phone. Sugar, vegetable oil, butter, vanilla beans, eggs, pears and some fresh green apples for my mum’s apple pie recipe. We take them to the front and place the items that fit next to the register on the counter. Chase props the extra-large bags of flour and sugar up against it on the floor.

“Did you find everything okay?” Ben asks with a friendly smile.

“I think so,” I say, double checking the list. “Thank you again for donating these items to our bake sale. We couldn’t do this without you.”

“Well, I’m always willing to support a worthy cause.”

“Oh, actually,” I say, holding up a hand. “I need to get some raspberries for the raspberry and white chocolate muffins, but I couldn’t seem to find any over there.”

A wave of sadness suddenly washes over me at the memory of the last time I’d made those muffins. It had been in Henley’s kitchen, not all that long before he disappeared. I remember his arms around my waist, the way he’d nuzzled into my neck from behind as I’d gently folded the flour through the buttermilk and eggs.

It seems like a lifetime ago now.

“No problem,” Ben’s voice snaps me back to reality. “I just got a delivery this morning from Peacock Farms. I’ll go and fetch some for you out back.” He disappears through a door behind the register in pursuit of the raspberries.

“You okay?” Chase asks. “You kinda spaced out just then.”

“Yeah.” I nod and force a smile, knowing full well that he sees through it.

He doesn’t push the issue though, instead grabbing a gigantic bag of grapes from beside the counter.

“I’m taking these,” he says with a smirk, to which I grin.

He plucks one from the bunch and tosses it into the air catching it in his mouth proudly.

I raise my eyebrows, impressed. “Nice! Now do me,” I say, opening wide for him to aim a grape in my mouth. He tries but I stumble, and it ends up hitting me in the forehead and bouncing behind the counter. “Oh, good one. Chase! Now we’re going to have an occupational health and safety incident on our conscience later today.”

“So dramatic,” he teases with a chuckle.

He tosses another grape my way which bounces off my nose. “You’re so bad at this game.”

“I know!” I say, laughing even harder, grateful that he’s successfully been able to pull me from the flashback I was having only seconds ago.

Chase laughs too, but then his amusement falls short, his gaze dropping to the ground as footsteps fall on the floor behind me. I don’t really need to turn around to know who it is, but still I do. Henley moves closer, the room suddenly smaller as his form fills the space, the tension in the air palpable.

He doesn’t look at me.

Only at Chase.

His jaw grinds, the tell-tale vein protruding from his neck the only sign I need to know he’s furious seeing Chase and I together. Jealousy has always been a problem for Henley, and I tense, remembering the few times in the past when he’d tried to solve his issues with physical violence.

“Hi,” I say nervously, my voice small.

“Hey,” he replies, still not looking at me. “What’s wrong, Chase? Don’t you have the guts to look at me?”

Chase looks up reluctantly. “Hey, Henley.”

Henley pushes past me, sizing Chase up. He stands over him, attempting and succeeding in intimidating him. I watch as Chase swallows, giving a slight shake of his head.

---