By the time he'd swiped up the last bit of frosting with his fork tines and looked up, the bakery had a few customers. Two more tables had been taken by older folks and he wondered if they came early to enjoy the fresh baked goods or the peaceful quiet. Vivian noticed him putting his fork down on his plate and held up a finger, gesturing for him to give her a minute.
He nodded and she returned to ringing up her last two customers.
A short time later, she was back at his table. "How was it?"
"Delicious. But I think you already knew that."
Funny how something as simple as a genuine smile could make the day ahead seem a little less horrifying. She reached out for his plate and gestured at his mug. "Do you want any more coffee?"
"Yeah. But I need it for the road."
"I'll have it at the counter for you."
She was true to her word. A travel cup waited for him by the register. He waited in line behind a haggard secretary who frantically ordered an assortment of a dozen pastries before getting a chance alone with Vivian.
His good mood lasted until she rang up his total. He must have been scowling, because she gave him a quizzical look and asked, "Is something wrong?"
"You didn't charge me for the cinnamon roll."
"No, I didn't."
"I need to pay you for that."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "No, you don't. It was on the house."
He straightened, shoulders moving back, chin tilting down so he could pin her with his sternest look. "I don't need charity."
"And I don't need you spoiling my morning."
The unexpected admission made him blink. She wavered, but looked up and met him eye to eye. "This is the first time in months that you've stepped into my bakery. After how many times we've passed each other on the street, it only seems right to offer good food to a friend who's made me feel safe when I get to work. Do you understand?"
Holy shit. That was a lot to process. Both the use of the word friend and the surprising fact that she felt safe around him instead of threatened by him. But she'd asked him if he'd understood why she made the gesture and he'd be damned if he behaved badly to her now.
He nodded dumbly and handed over the money to cover the cost of the coffee. What change she handed back to him got tossed in the tips jar and he took up his cup.
"Thank you for breakfast," he said roughly. "And the soda bread."
"Thank you for stopping by," she replied. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."
He nodded and retreated as quickly as politeness allowed. A strange, small part of him hoped she was right, that he'd see her again soon. It wasn't until he had started his car and was setting his coffee in the cup holder that he noticed the writing on the cardboard sleeve. Vivian's name and phone number.
At least now he had something other than his waiting family to think about during the drive.
Chapter 3
Bradley Harding waited for him in the parking lot. It had taken Zeke years to forgive his father enough to stand being in his presence. Their relationship now was probably better than it ever had been, due in no small part to the harsh words that were exchanged after the funeral. Throwing the truth in each other’s faces may have hurt like a bitch, but they’d gotten over the past a helluva lot faster.
“How was the drive?” Bradley asked as Zeke slid out of his car.
“Fine. Roads were good.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yep.” Funny how he could answer his fat
her’s patented question honestly for a change. He held up the paper bag. “Brought her some soda bread.”
His father held up a bouquet of dark pink flowers. “I thought she might like these.”