Best of My Love (Fool's Gold, #20)

“What happens now?” Shelby asked.

“Hell if I know. I didn’t like what I saw in her face. I’m sorry I hurt her. I’m sorry I’ve become that kind of guy. I want to do better. I have to change. I never meant to hurt anybody. That was the point. No one was supposed to get hurt.” He shook his head, held in a groan, then drank more coffee. “What does it matter? I am that guy.” He put down the mug. “Or I was.”

“You’re going to change?”

“Yeah. I have to. Not wanting to get stuck is one thing, but to be such an ass... That’s not me.”

Shelby’s gaze was steady. She looked at him for a long time before nodding. “Okay. Thanks for talking to me.”

“You gonna slap me or absolve me?”

“Neither. I was curious.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

She laughed. “Keep hydrating, Aidan. And the next time someone offers you aspirin, you should probably take it.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”

She stood and carried her mug to the counter and put it in the bin for dirty dishes. Aidan watched her shrug into her coat, then walk out into the cold morning.

Pretty, he thought absently. Not that her appearance meant anything to him because he knew at least part of the solution to his problem. Swearing off women would be drastic, but it would also help make things right. Yup, that was what he had to do. Give them up completely. Forever. Starting now.

*

THE SIDEWALKS IN town were clear, with snow piled up by the curb. Christmas trees and holly wreaths still hung in store windows, along with banners proclaiming the New Year. Fool’s Gold was a town defined by the seasons and the festivals that went with them. Shelby liked the ever-changing decorations that hung off the light posts. By Monday all the signs of Christmas and New Year’s would be gone, replaced by the bright colors of Cabin Fever Days. Snowmen would appear in front yards and there would be an ice-sculpture competition in the park.

She’d already heard from several of the artists who’d sent her sketches of their designs. From those, she’d created a simple template, which was turned into a cookie cutter. During the popular festival, the bakery would sell the custom cookies in the store and in their two food carts.

This would be their second year operating the food carts and the first offering custom cookies. Both had been her idea and Shelby was excited and nervous about the cookies. Excited because she was sure they were going to be a hit. Nervous because they were her second big suggestion as a new business owner.

Last fall she’d bought into Ambrosia Bakery as a minority partner. There were days she still couldn’t believe she actually owned part of a business. Her! While she’d loved culinary school, she’d quickly realized that the pastry classes were her favorite and had changed her major to baking and pastry arts. Her internship had led to a job and her life had been on track.

For all of fifteen minutes, she thought ruefully. Then her mom had gotten sick and everything had changed.

Shelby paused at the corner. It was still early in the day. The bakery was closed for the holiday, so she could go home and enjoy a rare long weekend. Or, she could go to work and play with cookies—perfecting the decorating of the custom ice-sculpture-inspired shapes.

As home was a small one-bedroom apartment where no one waited for her—not even a goldfish—she turned right on Second and walked toward the familiar white storefront with the pretty silver awning. Before she got there, a car pulled up next to her and a blonde woman got out.

Shelby smiled at her friend Madeline. “Shouldn’t you be off being romantic with your movie-star fiancé?”

Madeline hugged her blue coat close and grinned. “I have been, but we’re taking a rest. I came home to get a few things and thought I’d say hi.” She wrinkled her nose. “I just knew you’d be working today.”

Shelby held up both hands. “I’m not at the bakery.”

“You’re three feet away.”

Shelby laughed. “Okay, yes. I’m going to play with the new cookie designs. Why not? It’s quiet and I like baking.”

“Any leftovers for hungry friends?”

“I’m sure there are.”

Shelby locked the front door behind them, then flipped on the lights. She loved being the first person in the building. Everywhere she looked, there was the promise of delicious things to come. The huge bowls, the racks brimming with supplies, the massive ovens—all ready to make magic from a few ingredients.