The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(87)
The muscle under his eye jumps. He looks at me, waiting for me to say something else. But since everything I’ve said tonight seems to be wrong, I just reach out and press my hand over his heart.
And after a few beats, he puts his own hand over mine. “I’d better go upstairs,” he says finally. “Make sure my dad’s blood pressure has come down.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “See you tomorrow.”
“More than likely,” he says. Then he lets go of my hand and walks out, leaving me feeling like I’ve let him down, when all I’ve done is told the truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“SO YOU’RE LEFEKSZIK WITH ETHAN?”
This is my greeting the next morning when Iris and Rose come into the bakery. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Word does get around in this town.
“Hi, Iris. Hi, Rose.” I pause. “If by that tangled up word, you mean am I—” I pause “—dating Ethan, then the answer is yes. How did you know?”
“Saw your mother-in-law at the Starbucks,” Iris says, gesturing with her cup. My mother enters now, also clutching the trademark earth-friendly cup.
“Should everyone be going to Starbucks?” I ask, trying to keep the edge from my voice. “They’re our competition, remember?”
“Have you had the hot chocolate there?” Rose says. “I thought I died and went to heaven!”
“You’re all traitors,” I mutter. “If you’d let me set up a café, we could sell hot chocolate, too, and—”
“So how is it?” Iris wants to know. “Do you compare them constantly?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I—”
“I thought that was against the law,” Rose muses in her singsong voice. “Iris, you told me it was against the law.”
“So? How long has this been going on?” Iris demands, reapplying her Coral Glow with surgical precision.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” I say as the bell rings over the door. Thank God. Captain Bob. “Hi, Bob! What can I get for you?”
“Captain Bob, is it against the law to marry your brother-in-law?” Rose asks him.
“I—um…hello, there, ladies.” His bloodshot eyes find my mother. “Good morning, Daisy. You look lovely today.”
“Bob. Thank you.” My mother gives him an imperious look and goes into her office, closing the door behind her.
“Why do men love the women who abuse them?” I ask Captain Bob.
“Self-hatred,” he answers. “What’s this about the brother-in-law?”
“I’m dating Ethan.”
His bushy eyebrows raise in surprise. “Jimmy’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He studies the tray of gooey danishes Rose is shoving into the display case. “Can I have a cherry danish? And how’s that going? With Ethan, I mean.”
“Uh…fine. Just fine,” I answer. The bakery fills with our paltry assortment of morning regulars.
“I always thought Ethan was so decent,” Rose comments as she counts out Mr. Maxwell’s hard roll allotment.
“He is decent, Rose. You know that,” I plead.
“He and Lucy,” my aunt explains to our customer. “She’s…er…dating…her dead husband’s brother.”
“Wouldn’t that be incest?” Mr. Maxwell says, frowning.
“It’s not incest!” I yelp. “He’s not my brother. He’s—”
“Lucy! Check the bread!” Iris calls.
I shove through the kitchen doors and yank open the oven. Jeepers! My internal timer has failed me for the first time ever, and the bread is nut brown, not golden. Dang it. Four dozen loaves, unsellable. Unbelievable. Jorge pats my shoulder as he comes in, shrugging out of his coat, and I sigh, then head for the proofer, hoping I have enough dough to make up for it.
Around ten, I prepare to go home for my nap. Iris and Rose are dying to interrogate me…little comments have been dropped all morning, and I could really use a little quiet time.
“See you in a few hours, Mom,” I say, glancing in the tiny office.
“Okay, sweetheart,” she says, barely looking up from her computer screen, where a game of solitaire is in progress. My mother is the only Black Widow who hasn’t weighed in on the subject of my love life, and I’m suddenly hungry for some maternal advice.
“Have you got a sec?” I ask, leaning in her doorway. I’m exhausted…didn’t sleep well for obvious reasons. All night, I tossed and turned and irritated Fat Mikey.
“Sure,” she says, closing the lid of her laptop.
Mom’s office is barely big enough for her desk, let alone the guest chair that’s wedged into the corner. It takes a little wrestling, but I manage to close the door for a heart-to-heart.
“So. Ethan and I are, um…together,” I say.
“I gathered,” she answers.
“Did you see Marie this morning, too?”
“I did,” Mom says. “She was quite upset.”
I cringe, hoping my mother-in-law wasn’t compelled to detail all that she saw but knowing better.
“Caught you and Ethan on the couch, I understand.”