“Okay?” he asked, watching her closely.
“Yes,” she replied, bending to retrieve her other glove, which had fallen when Jake caught her.
“I’ll get it,” Jake said, picking it up. He shook off the dusting of snow. As he did, Charlie felt a particular flutter in her stomach—something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
No. This wasn’t good. She had to stay focused on the parts of Cass’s life that needed her attention: the bakery, mostly. But also dealing with Brett, because his whole lovey-dovey act when he showed up at the bakery—plus, her brief conversation with Sharon earlier—suggested the situation was thornier than Cass had let on.
“Thanks for saving me yet again. Between yesterday and tonight, you’re pretty much my hero.”
“Anytime,” Jake said, his charming smile deepening.
“Bye, Jake.” She started walking away.
“Hey, Cass, hold up.” Charlie turned. “Do you want to finish Bonnie’s walk with me? Then after I drop her off at the station we can grab something to eat? Because it sounds like you need some food, and I haven’t had dinner yet, either.” He clipped the leash onto Bonnie’s collar.
Charlie needed to get back to the bakery and figure out a plan to deal with Brett. But she also needed to eat. Jake saw her hesitation.
“An hour tops,” he said. “Besides, it’s the least I can do to make up for the soaked-with-dog-drool glove thing.”
“An hour I can do,” Charlie said, smiling wide as she fell into step with Jake and Bonnie.
* * *
? ? ?
“Hey, Cass,” the server said, after Charlie and Jake were seated in a booth by the window of Peak Pub, one of the main gathering spots for the residents of Starlight Peak. Their server looked to be about Charlie’s mom’s age, with a short, graying pixie cut and bright pink lipstick. Charlie had never met this woman before, but clearly Cass knew her well enough. “The usual?”
Charlie nodded, wondering what Cass’s “usual” was. “Sounds great.”
“What’s the ‘usual’？” Jake asked, looking up from his menu to Charlie’s face. His green eyes were framed by long, dark amber lashes, and Charlie felt momentarily dazed.
“Is it hot in here?” Charlie’s voice was too high, and her cheeks were warm. She fanned her face with the menu. “It feels hot.”
“You need a water, Cass?” the server said.
“Water. Yes. Thank you.” Why in the hell had she agreed to dinner? She should be keeping a low profile—and not knowing her sister’s usual order, when she was trying to play her sister, only made things more complicated. Charlie should be aiming for less complicated.
“I’ll have whatever she’s having, Darla,” Jake said. Darla. Okay. At least Charlie knew her name now.
“Two chilis and an order of pullaparts coming up. With a side of Starlight Red.”
“Oh, thank you, Darla!” a truly grateful Charlie exclaimed. Then she smiled at Jake, still embarrassed. “I’m just really excited about the chili. It’s my favorite.”
“Well, obviously. Apparently, you always order it.”
It turned out Starlight Red was not a chili-topper condiment as Charlie had assumed, but pints of the local brew—ruddy colored in the pint glasses, a layer of foam on top, and a slice of orange speared on the glass’s edge.
“Cheers,” Jake said, picking up his pint and leaning it toward Charlie. She did the same, and then took a sip of the beer. Charlie was unable to taste it, but the fizz of the beer tickled her throat when she swallowed and, much to her embarrassment, she started to hiccup.
“I’m sorry!” Charlie said between hiccups, laughing at herself. “I’m not really a beer drinker.” Her voice was muffled from the napkin she pressed to her lips to try and quiet the sound of the hiccupping.
“But isn’t this part of the ‘usual’？” Jake asked, using his fingers to make air quotes as he said the word.
“Right. Yes, it is.” Charlie swallowed down another hiccup and pushed her beer away. “I just need some food in me first. I’m really spacey today.” Soon Darla brought over glasses of ice water and Charlie took a long sip to try and quell the hiccups. She relaxed a little, and the hiccupping abated with another sip of water.
“So, Jake. What do you do for fun around here when you aren’t schooling bakery owners on how to set timers so things don’t burn to the ground?”