Thankfully, there were no more tears during dinner. The food was excellent. They shared a cinnamon crème brûlée for dessert with decaffeinated coffee so Maddie could sleep when she got home. It was fully dark as they left the restaurant and walked back to his truck. Now the fairy lights in the trees seemed to float in the darkness like late-season fireflies.
“This makes me want to hang lights in my trees,” Maddie said. She paused, leaning her back against the side of the truck to look up at the sparkling white lights. “I’ve always loved Christmas lights, but these are even better, because I can leave them up all year long, like it’s my very own fairy garden.”
“You should do it,” Emmett said, pressing one hand onto the edge of the truck bed. “I’ll even help you put them up.”
“Really?” Maddie said, looking at him with big doe eyes that reflected the lights in the dark.
She looked so hopeful, like a child being promised her heart’s desire. It confused Emmett for a moment. How could a woman who grew up so spoiled be so excited by something like this? Had her reputation become so tarnished that no one was willing to do anything for her? It was just some twinkle lights, and yet it felt like more to him. “Absolutely. I’ve even got a ladder. We can get you a timer so they turn on every night at dusk and you can see them before you go to bed and when you get up.”
“Thank you,” Maddie said, nearly launching into his arms. He caught her in his embrace, closing his eyes to absorb the sensation of holding her so close. There always seemed to be a barrier to their intimacy—their attitudes, handcuffs, car consoles—but now it was just him and her, pressed together.
She buried her face in his neck and Emmett slowly stroked her back. His fingers brushed over her silky, loose curls, making him wish she wore her hair down more often. Emmett took a deep breath, drawing her scent into his lungs and holding it there. As she shifted against him, he felt a stir of need in his body. She felt so good in his arms, he wanted to lift her up and carry her off to his apartment to make love to her.
Maddie pulled away, looking up at him. Rising onto her toes, she pressed her lips to his. It was a gentle, hesitant kiss, nothing like the ones he’d initiated before. With his hands balled into fists at her side, he held back, letting her explore him with her hands and mouth. The heat in his core climbed higher, degree by degree, nearly engulfing him as her tongue glided along his own. He was on the verge of pinning her against the truck and touching her the way he ached to, when suddenly she was gone.
Emmett’s eyes flew open and found she’d taken a step back. There was a sheepish expression on her face, even as her cheeks flushed. “Tonight was really nice, Emmett. I hate to say it, but I’ve gotta get home and get to bed.”
Bed sounded great, but he knew that she meant without him. With a sigh, Emmett nodded and let her go. He reached for the handle and opened the passenger-side door. “Your chariot awaits.”
Maddie cut the last of her white-chocolate-raspberry-cheesecake bars. She was about to slip them into their paper wrappers when she heard the front door of the bakery chime. She pulled off her gloves and went out front to tend to her customer.
Standing at the counter was Lydia. It was her second visit in a week, which made Maddie wonder why she was there now. Likely, she had something that she wanted to gloat about, or she’d heard about Maddie’s date with Emmett. “Hey, Maddie.”
“Hey, Lydia,” she said, coming out from behind the counter to give her a hug. “How have you been?”
She shrugged and turned her attention to the bakery case. “Good. The restaurant has been crazy, as usual. I keep telling Daddy we need to just contract you to make some of our desserts, but he likes to be able to say it was all done in-house. Just one more thing to do.” She bent down to eye something in the display. “What is that?”
Maddie went back behind the counter and peered in at what Lydia was pointing at. “It’s a Bavarian cream-filled horn dusted in sugar crystals.”
“Lord,” she said, taking a step back. “I don’t know how you can stand to be around all this junk food. It’s a wonder you don’t weigh more than you already do.”
Maddie bit the inside of her cheek to avoid responding. She was the same size eight she’d been since graduation, so she wouldn’t let her friend get a rise out of her when it wasn’t true.
“So, word is that last night you and Emmett were spotted looking quite chummy on your front porch. What,” Lydia said with a mix of interest and disgust, “was that all about? I thought you two were fighting.”
“We were. And now we’re not.”
An amused smile crossed Lydia’s face. “So, now you’re dating a bartender? Really? How very blue-collar of you, Maddie.”
Maddie tried not to frown at her. “For one thing, he isn’t a bartender. He owns the bar.”
“The guy brings me drinks when I order them,” Lydia said. “Same thing.”
“And for another thing, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Lydia leaned against the counter. “You don’t want to talk about it? Was it really that bad?”
“No, it was wonderful. I had a great time. So really, I don’t want to talk about it because you’re just going to pooh all over it and ruin my buzz.”
Lydia ignored her, narrowing her gaze. “Did you sleep with him?”
“It was our first date, Lydia! No, I didn’t sleep with him.”
Lydia shrugged and strolled down the counter to the small container with cookie samples. For all her money and their years of friendship, she’d never come into the shop to buy anything. She ate a sample or whined until she got something free. Sometimes she went as far as to walk into the kitchen and just take something off the cooling racks without even asking. But she never bought anything, claiming she didn’t need the calories.
Before now, that hadn’t bothered Maddie. Lydia was her best friend, right? Of course she didn’t have to pay for a cookie. But something had changed, even just in the last few days since they went to lunch. Maddie had changed, without realizing it. Lydia was the same as she’d always been. That didn’t leave them with a lot in common anymore.
“I would’ve slept with him,” she said. “He doesn’t have a pot to piss in, but he’s hot. He’d make an excellent lover on the side, I think. Those rough carpenter’s hands . . .”