“Whoops,” Jonah said, not pissy in the slightest for just costing his team the game.
“Whoops?” Adam threw the bat and stalked toward the mound, the tightening in his chest growing with every step. “No whoops. That was on purpose. You just threw the game.”
“Did I?” Jonah shrugged as McGuire made a big show of prancing over home plate and throwing his cap in the air as if this were the fucking World Series. “Guess you needed the win more than we did.”
Harper had once read that the best way to eat an elephant was one bite at a time. And since there were too many elephants in her life to address, she decided her first bite of the day would be a cookie. Which was how she found herself at the Sweet and Savory—instead of at the fire station.
A girl needed a hearty breakfast before tackling her problems. She also needed a cute dress, something she’d justified as she’d slipped on a little strapless summery number she’d kept at the back of her closet, just waiting for that perfect event to wear it to, like say, facing a certain funny, gorgeous, sex-lebrity.
Checking her makeup in the bakery’s window, she touched up her lipstick, Sensual Seduction, then practiced eye contact. It was bold and direct and—
“Oh God.” Everything inside her stilled. Everything except her heart, which pounded as she took a closer look at herself—surprised at what she found looking back. Scared even.
The dress was silky and flirty and spoke of a woman who knew what she wanted. More importantly, a woman who went after what she wanted—and got it. Which was why it had sat at the back of the closet for so long. Once she took it out and wore it for the world, she’d never be able to put it in the back again.
The dress was designed to be noticed, and deep down Harper wanted to be noticed. But what if she put herself out there for the world to see, stepping directly into the glare of the spotlight, and was still overlooked?
Telling herself that it didn’t matter, that being recognized for who she was and how she cared for others was more important, Harper dug deep for confidence and pushed through the door. Immediately she felt her nerves settle as she was greeted by a warm blast of vanilla, fresh baked pastries, and home. The smell of baking cookies reminded her of summers with Clovis in the kitchen. Safe, cherished, loved.
Helping herself to a sample of peach scone, which sat on a tray held by a cardboard cutout of David Hasselhoff in board shorts—a leftover from before the renovation—she bypassed the usual suspects in breakfast pastries and went right for the cookies.
Face pressed against the glass display window, she considered her options carefully. A friendly lemon scratch cookie was calling her name, and nothing said breakfast like fruit, but somehow she knew her day needed a buttered-rum blondie.
After her talk with Emerson last night at the game, Harper realized she was being selfish. Counting on Adam as the quick fix to her problems, when it could land him in trouble with his boss, wasn’t a friendly thing to do. And Harper was, above all else, a good friend.
Who always did the right thing.
So why did her stomach hurt? It wasn’t just thinking about the dress or the evening that was causing it, but thinking about Adam. Before she could really process that, an instant smile appeared on her face as if on automatic.
As if a small part of her thrilled at the thought of doing the wrong thing—with the Five-Alarm Casanova. He’d opened up to her, showed her a part of the real Adam, a guy who wanted to become more than people’s perceptions, and she couldn’t look past that.
“You’re early today,” Lexi DeLuca said, coming out of the kitchen. Lexi balanced a tray of éclairs in one hand, a rolling pin in the other, and had matching toddlers with blonde pigtails and freckles hanging on to each of her legs like monkeys. Both baker and daughters were speckled with chocolate.
As owner and mastermind behind the most popular French bakery on the West Coast, Lexi was the local sugar supplier. She had three daughters, one of the hottest husbands in town, and a way with buttercream frosting that could only come from divine intervention.
“I actually counted to ten after you flipped the sign to OPEN before I came in. I didn’t want to look desperate.”
Lexi laughed and grabbed a paper bag. “Inventory time at the shop?”
“Among other things,” Harper said, nibbling her fingers because choosing was impossible.
“Sounds like a half-dozen kind of day.” Lexi traded in the bag for a pink box, then reached for a confetti cake batter cookie. “The usual?”
Harper shook her head. “I’m trying to live outside the lines and try new things.”
“So I’ve heard,” Lexi said with a mischievous grin, and Harper blew out a breath.
“You heard wrong,” Harper said. Lexi smothered a laugh behind her hand.