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“I’m happy to be back.”
Her grandma’s blue eyes held Leah’s for a long beat. “It’s been good for you, right?” she said. “Being here? Being happy here?”
And there it was. The elephant in the room.
Yes, Leah’s childhood had not been happy here in Lucky Harbor. But her parents had retired to Palm Springs, thirteen hundred miles south. And after her dad’s death, her mom had stayed down there. The distance worked for them both, more than it should. “Yes,” she said. “I’m happy here.”
“Your mom says you called the other day,” Elsie said.
Leah made an obligatory call every other week, during which she and her mom had a shallow conversation. Yes, she was fine. Yes, she was still baking. No, she hadn’t found a man to marry her… “I did,” she said to her grandma. “She sounds happy.”
Elsie’s smile was just a little sad and a whole lot knowing. “I’m proud of you, honey.”
“Yeah, well, you might want to change your mind about that when you find out that I ordered not one but two new ovens today.”
“Leah!”
“I’m paying for them,” she said quickly. They’d filled up her entire shiny new credit card, but she’d wanted to do it. “Grandma, it had to be done. You can’t continue with the business you have without new ovens; you just can’t. We’re putting out too much product now. We needed to do this.”
Elsie sighed. “But I don’t want you to pay for them.”
Leah ignored this to help Elsie out of the car, but Elsie grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, waiting until Leah met her gaze. “I’m so very proud of you,” she said fiercely. “You’ve been a godsend. A perfect godsend.”
“Perfect?” Leah laughed softly. “I have faults, Grandma. Lots of them.”
“Of course you do. Your biggest fault is that you care too much. And you work too hard. But the good news is that I really am starting to feel so much better. I’ll pick up the slack again soon.”
Leah nodded. That was a good thing. A great thing. She’d come home to help, and she’d done that. But it was time to move on soon. She needed to be gone before Sweet Wars got to the finals in three weeks.
Long gone.
“You’re really doing better?” she asked Elsie. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave until she was sure.
“Oh yes. And you have your own life to get back to,” Elsie said, then added with a sly hopefulness, “I’m guessing you have your own bakery to open?”
Everyone knew grand prize for Sweet Wars was $100,000 to open a pastry shop. “You know I can’t tell you—”
“Phooey,” Elsie said. “I hate contracts and rules.”
Leah smiled, knowing damn well she’d inherited that trait. “I want you to just concentrate on enjoying your break,” she said. “Are you? Are you okay with the way I’m running your bakery?”
“Our bakery, honey. And are you kidding? You’ve doubled business. I’ll sure miss you.”
Leah thought about staying and what that would cost her. Elsie, catching her hesitation, patted her hand. “No worries. I know there’s more out there for you than being back here in Lucky Harbor. You were on the cover of Martha, for God’s sake.”
The nurse came out and called Elsie just as Leah’s phone started vibrating. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at the screen.
Jack.
Her wits deserted her, and with a wince, she dropped the phone back in her purse, where it vibrated for another minute before finally falling into an irritated silence.
Jack wouldn’t let her ignore him for long. She was thinking about that, and how she might explain herself to him, when Mr. Lyons came through the front door leaning on his cane.
“Hey, cutie,” he said, signing in for his appointment. “Saw you on—”
“Sweet Wars,” she finished for him. “I know. I can’t tell you what happens, sorry.” Three more shows. She had three weeks to figure her shit out. “Contractual obligations and all—”
“No, I mean I saw you on Facebook. You’re dating Jack Harper. Good man, that Jack.”
Leah stared at him. “What?”
“Yeah. Now, as far Sweet Wars goes, you’re killing the competition. I’ve got a twenty on you taking it, but I’d go up as high as fifty if you’d give me a little clue…”
“Don’t you even think about giving him a clue,” Elsie said, coming out from the back. “He’ll use it to win against the other, less fortunate seniors.”
“Ah, now that hurts.” Mr. Lyons slapped a hand to his heart and dramatically staggered back a step. “The prettiest babe in town doubts me.”
“Poker night, last week,” she said. “You coaxed everyone into making it strip poker. Then you counted cards and won the pot, which was three hundred bucks.”
“Okay, true.” He winked at her. “Which you know firsthand since you were there.”
“Grandma?” Leah asked, shocked.
Elsie waved her off and continued to glare at Mr. Lyons.
He simply flashed blinding white dentures. “How about I use some of my ill-gotten gain to wine and dine you? The diner’s having a two-for-one special. My treat.”
“I have plans.”
“With that chain-smoking, stuffy, old, stick-up-his-ass Maxwell Fitzgerald?” Mr. Lyons asked.
“Why…” Elsie glanced at Leah. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” She wrapped her arm around Leah. “Good day.”
“Elsie?”
Elsie turned back to Mr. Lyons.
“You know I’m just having fun, right? At our age, it’s all we’ve got. Well, that and pumpkin pie night at the senior center. My offer of dinner stands,” he added more seriously. “Even after the special’s over.”
Elsie looked surprised as Leah led her out the door. They went home, and Leah made dinner. When Elsie had gone to bed, Leah took a long shower until she ran out of hot water. Afterward, she had a text from her self-proclaimed boyfriend.
Squinting her eyes to read it—because that always made things easier to take—she opened the text.
You can run, but you can’t hide.
Chapter 6
Jack’s earliest memory was being four years old and proudly wearing his dad’s firefighter hat to the dinner table. It’d been far too heavy for him, and he’d barely been able to see because it kept falling over his eyes, but his dad had laughed.
And Jack had loved the sound.
There’d never been a question of what he would grow up to be. He’d become a firefighter, like his dad.
Period.
His schedule at station #24 was busy but he didn’t mind the odd hours, or the job, really. No, it wasn’t jumping out of helicopters into massive wildlife fires—which he’d loved—but the work meant something.
And yet there was no denying he was restless as hell.
It was true that city firefighting could be exciting, but Lucky Harbor wasn’t exactly “city.” And if there wasn’t enough of that excitement to suit his adrenaline-junkie soul, he told himself that at the ripe old age of thirty-two, he’d learn to deal with it.
He was still waiting for his brain to do just that.
He and Kevin ran to work, and he had to admit his knee was slowing him down some. He really thought he’d just rehab it himself, but after months of working on it, he wasn’t so sure. And yet he’d been the surgery route before and knew what that would mean—an enforced down period. Since that didn’t work for him, his immediate plan was to ignore it until he couldn’t.
In the meantime, he did his best to fill his time with things that interested him. He’d become the county’s hazmat specialist and had gotten additional certificates in fire management and arson investigation. His off-shift hours were filled with whichever adrenaline rushes he could find. Paddle boarding with Luke. Mountain climbing with Ben. Women.
He’d had a good run there too, he could admit. In fact, he was right smack in the middle of a good run. Or had been—until Leah’s little bombshell.
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