Tara nods and sort of gives her a shove toward the door. Before she goes out, she turns. "Will you take the chocolate pie out in a few?"
Tara nods, but the whole time, she's looking at me. She clears her throat. "So where are your friends at?"
I shake my head, hating the glass case between us. “You're going to give me a complex, being worried about all of them.”
She laughs and blinks her pretty lashes at me. "No, I just think it's weird that they were coming in every day, and now, all of a sudden, they stopped coming. Are they over the sweets?"
I chuckle. "No, they're definitely not over the sweets.” I pat my pants pocket. “They gave me their orders when I left the clubhouse. They stopped coming because it seemed like we were causing a bit of a commotion with so many of us traveling together. I just thought this would be easier."
She nods as she pulls out some to-go boxes. "So you drew the short straw? You're the one that has to come and pick up for everybody else."
I shake my head back and forth. "No way, Mama. We didn't even draw straws. There's no way I was going to let anyone else come."
Her lips turn up into a smile. I hope I'm not imagining that she is softening toward me. She holds out her hand. "All right, let's see that list."
I pull it from my jeans pocket and lay it in her hand. In the past, she's always been quick to pull her hand back, but today she doesn't. I can’t resist rubbing my thumb across her wrist before I release her. She seems to tremble. Her whole body shakes before she unfolds the paper in her hand. She starts to read, "Cookies, chocolate croissant, three chocolate iced cupcakes." She keeps reading and then looks up at me. "No strawberry pie?"
"Definitely strawberry pie," I answer her, “but I don't want it in the box. I was going to use it as an excuse to sit at one of these tables and stare at you.”
She smiles again, and her cheeks turn pink. She puts a slice of strawberry pie on a plate and hands it to me. She then starts working on the to-go boxes. Her hands are full when I perk up and inhale deeply. "Do I smell something...?"
Before I can get it all out, her eyes widen, and she gasps in shock. "The chocolate pie!"
I look at her with her hands full and pat her on the shoulder as I walk around the glass case towards the back. "I got it."
I go to the ovens and find a mitt hanging to the side. I put it on and pull the chocolate pies from the oven and then set them on the cooling rack just as Tara walks in, her hand to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness you saved them. One more minute, and they would've been goners."
She smiles up at me, and I take a step toward her. There's no display case or counter or register between us now.
I push a piece of her hair behind her ear and tuck it there. "You know what that means, don't you?"
"What?" she asks, almost breathless.
I shrug and let my hand land on her shoulder. I give her a slight squeeze. "I saved your pie. Now, it's your turn to save me."
She laughs. "How exactly am I supposed to save you?"
I keep my face unguarded, wanting her to see the sincerity. “You could save me from going crazy by going out with me.”
She takes a deep breath, and I try to mentally prepare myself for the no that might be coming. "Okay," she says.
I blink at her in surprise. "Okay? Yes?"
She laughs. "Yes. Honestly, since you left the other day, I regretted saying no. So yes, I'll go on a date with you."
"Tonight?" I ask her, thinking that if I don't give her time to back out, she won't be able to change her mind.
"Sure. That's fine." She shrugs.
She walks out to the front of the bakery, and I follow behind her. I know I have no business to be behind the counter, so I circle around it and stand facing her. "You name it. Anywhere you want to go, that's what we’ll do."
She seems to think about it. "I get off at five. How about the Whiskey Whistler at seven?"
My forehead creases. "The bar?"
She looks indignant. "I'll have you know that they have really good hamburgers."
I laugh and hold my hands up. "Fine, wherever you want to go. I'll pick you up."
She shakes her head. "Nope. I will meet you there."
A part of me wants to argue with her about this. There are certain ways I do things, and it seems to have brought it out of me since I met Tara, not only a possessive feeling, but a feeling like I need to take care of her and just plain be good to her, but if this is how she wants it, I'll do it her way for now.