The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(65)

“Want a bite?” he asks, holding out a spoonful.

“Wasted on me,” I answer. I’d tried some at class, actually…the smell of the eggs and cream, the vanilla and lemon zest was so tempting, and I’d tried a spoonful. As usual, it hadn’t tasted like anything.

“How was your day?” Ethan asks, and I tell him about the offer from Matt DeSalvo and NatureMade. For some reason, I don’t mention that Matt looks like Jimmy.

“That’s really something,” Ethan says, scraping his dish. He gets up and helps himself to another one, then rejoins me. “Think you’ll take him up on it?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. Probably,” I answer slowly. Fat Mikey butts his head against the leg of the table, on the prowl for pudding. Ethan obliges, putting his empty dish on the floor so Fat Mikey can lick it clean.

“Seems like a great way to increase business,” Ethan says.

“I know,” I agree. “I’m just not sure I want to be a bread baker for the rest of my life. Even a really successful bread baker.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ethan says, still eating. He looks at me expectantly.

I shrug. “I guess I still want to be a pastry chef.”

“And why aren’t you?” He leans over, setting dish number two on the floor for my cat, who purrs in appreciation.

I frown. “I can’t just leave Bunny’s, for one.”

“Why not? Didn’t the Black Widows get by just fine before you?”

“Well, first of all, I’d miss them. I love Bunny’s. And secondly, no. They were going out of business, inch by inch. Jimmy pretty much saved the day by getting the bread orders.”

“Ah, St. Jimmy,” Ethan says, smiling, his eyes slightly mocking. I frown, peevishly glad that I didn’t bring up Jimmy earlier. “But that was all before you started at the bakery, Lucy,” he continues. “They could hire someone else to do the bread. Your recipes, of course. I’m not saying you don’t make incredible bread.”

“So what are you saying?” I ask a bit crossly.

“I’m saying you should do what you want to do, that’s all.”

“Right,” I murmur, still irked. It’s just that…here it comes, the inevitable comparison. Jimmy would’ve sat down with a notepad and mapped out a plan. Here’s what you should do, he’d say, and he’d outline the next ten steps with utmost enthusiasm. Ethan…Ethan’s not helping.

Instead he looks at me with a half smile. Then he stands, comes over to me and takes my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Give us a hug, grumpy.”

My cheeks flush as I do what I’m told. God help me, I love the way he smells. His hand plays in my hair, his heart thumping steadily against mine. I remember that earlier this evening, I wondered if he was hurt, or worse.

Without another thought, I kiss Ethan’s warm neck, slide my hands up his back, the starched cotton of his shirt crisp under my palms, the heat of his skin radiating through the cloth. His beard scrapes gently against my cheek as he turns his head, and then the smooth, warm perfection of his mouth is on mine. Fat Mikey twines between our legs, and I feel Ethan smile, and there it is again, that painful, wonderful squeeze in my heart. He doesn’t do more than kiss me back, letting me set the pace, cupping my face with gentle hands.

It’s different this time—this isn’t a warm-up to sex, and this isn’t the hot, desperate kissing of two lonely people. We’re just kissing, mouths gentle, hands tender and chaste, but his heart thumps harder against my chest, and my knees are weakening. The sheer pleasure of the way he feels outweighs that faint flare of alarm in the back of my heart. I deepen the kiss, sliding my hands up his sides, feeling the lean muscles over his rib cage, tasting the faint combination of amaretto and Ethan, and the thought occurs to me that I’m already—

The phone rings, stopping my thoughts. Rings again, and a third time. I don’t move away from Ethan’s warmth, his mouth, the hint of the smile that always plays under the surface when we kiss. But then my sister’s voice comes on the answering machine.

“Lucy! Please! Christopher had a heart attack! Come to the hospital right now!”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CORINNE’S USUALLY PERFECT HAIR IS WILD, and Emma wails in her arms.

“How is he?” I ask, but my sister is sobbing so hard she doesn’t make sense.

“I’ll find a doctor,” Ethan says, leaving the waiting room where we found Corinne.

I sit next to my sister, who’s shaking wildly. “I can’t believe it,” she manages. “After all this…I thought…he never…”

“Okay, okay, sweetie, calm down,” I murmur, rubbing her shoulder. “Here, let me take Emma.” I pry the baby out of Corinne’s arms and snuggle her against my shoulder. She stops crying instantly, snuffles around for a second and takes one of those shuddering breaths that indicates she’s done. Corinne, however, continues.

“When did you guys get here?” I ask.

“Two hours ago,” she says.

“Oh, honey! You should’ve called me right away.”

“There were too many things to do,” she says, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. I rub her back with my free hand. Emma sighs against my neck, warm and heavy with sleep.