“Sadie,” he said in greeting, trying to stifle his laughter, “you … um, you have a little something,” he gestured to his own face where the butter was mirrored on hers.
“I … it was—I couldn’t … I mean, the butter,” she stuttered.
“Ah,” Jake tried and failed again to contain a laugh. “I see that hasn’t changed then. Your eloquence is as astounding as ever.”
Sadie let out a strangled groan and rolled her eyes, grabbed a fistful of napkins, and started wiping.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “I thought I told you I needed time.”
“Oh, I’m not here for you. I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, and Vinny told me I haven’t lived until I’ve had the cinnamon apple tarts here.”
“I did. I said that. Told him, I know just the place. Sorry Sadie … I didn’t really think …”
“Yes, well. I’ll, um—hang on just a second. I’ll be right back.” She darted back into the kitchen and grabbed onto the counter to steady herself.
“Gigi Marie,” she heard his booming voice call out. “How is it possible you seem to be getting younger?”
Sadie peeked through the slit in the doors and saw Gigi hugging Jake, her hand patting his side. Her head barely reached his navel.
“You little shit ass.” She laughed. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face around here,” she teased. Gigi liked to pretend that she held a grudge against Jake for leaving town all those years ago, which she probably did. But she also happened to be susceptible to his charms whenever he decided to turn them on.
Sadie finished wiping the butter off while her heart was trying to do a triple-time waltz right out of her chest.
You are a twenty-eight-year-old adult woman, damn it. Pull yourself together, she reprimanded herself silently.
Yanking her hair back into a ponytail, she groaned in frustration when the elastic snapped. Her hair, normally wavy, had tightened into thick, spiraled curls. The strawberries she’d been simmering on the stove suddenly bubbled over, filling the air with a thick, pungent sweetness. When she reached to turn off the burner, static electricity zapped her fingertips.
Gigi strode through the door and took in the mess on the stove, Sadie’s hair, and her heaving chest.
“I’m fine. Just gathering my wits,” Sadie assured her.
“Rule number nine, sugar.”
“‘High emotion equals unpredictable magic,’” Sadie recited. “I know.”
“You remember what happened when that boy left?”
Sadie nodded. She’d nearly burned Gigi’s kitchen down.
“‘Guard your heart, for from it flows the wellspring of life,’” she quoted. “But don’t guard it so closely that you’ll never get hurt. Because if you can’t get hurt then you can’t love, and if you’re gonna live like that, I wouldn’t have read your damned tea leaves. Now, go on,” she commanded, pushing Sadie through the doors.
Sadie wanted to say something about the curse, about how she refused to love, about how absurd that advice was when she’d only seen Jake for less than five minutes in two days. But Gigi had an iron fist when she wanted to, and Sadie’s shuffling feet carried her forward with trepidation.
“Vinny was right,” Jake said around a mouthful of tart. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“You’re just trying to get back on my good side.”
His eyes pierced into hers. “Of course, I am. Have you ever been on your bad side? That place is hell.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have waltzed in here today, then,” she said without meaning to. Vinny’s eyes were darting back and forth between them like he was following a table tennis match.
“I deserve that,” he agreed, swallowing. “You know, when I left, you’d only just started baking. And now look at you. Owner of your own café.”
“Co-owner,” she corrected. “Gigi is really the brains of the operation.”
“Hush,” Gigi chided. “Sadie is the miracle worker. It all started with peaches, remember, toot?”
“Really?” Jake asked, his eyes catching Sadie’s.
“It’s, well, that’s what sparked the obsession with baking, yes. I started out with traditional peach pie. Then it was peach and thyme cobbler or peach hand pies with reduced bourbon and blueberry drizzle,” she rambled, not meeting Jake’s eye.