The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(95)

Which means they’re off to visit their friends, probably get a hot chocolate from Starbucks. “I’m fine,” I say. “Take your time, enjoy yourselves.”

“See you around,” says Gianni, still holding Nick. “Parker, all right if we take the little guy with us?”

“Of course,” Parker says. “Bye, Nicky. Give Mommy a kiss.”

He obliges, then blows one to me. “Here’s yours, Aunt Wucy!”

“Charmer,” I call, pretending to catch his kiss. I blow one back, and he catches it dramatically, then presses it against his cheek, grinning.

“That boy is the image of his father.” I smile.

“Makes you want one, doesn’t it?” Parker asks. “A little Ethan?”

My smile drops a notch. “Mmm,” I say. Clearly the cookies need rearranging. Or the Hi-C needs, er, checking.

“What? Things aren’t going well?”

“His parents caught us on the couch the other night,” I mutter, my face burning.

“Oh, crap!” Parker crows with undisguised glee. “Were you doing it?”

“Close.”

She throws her head back, a melodic peal of laughter filling the air. “What did you do?”

“Covered up,” I say. “Quickly.”

“Holy shit,” Parker sighs happily. “How awful.” Then she notices my expression. “Everything else good, though? I thought you guys were doing okay.”

“Yeah, well. It’s fine. We have things to work out,” I say.

“Hello, ladies” comes a voice.

My face floods with heat. “Matt! Hi! How are you? Wow! Nice to see you. I didn’t know you were coming!” I’m babbling, I realize, but the shock of seeing him affects me, and Grinelda’s words come back to me in a rush. Check the toast. Check the bread. Check the bread man? “Matt, this is my friend, Parker Welles. Parker, Matt DeSalvo.”

“Great meeting you,” he says, shaking her hand so hard she winces. Jimmy had a crushing handshake, too.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she answers, cutting her eyes to me. “How do you know Lucy here?”

“He’s from NatureMade,” I explain hastily. “The bread man.”

“Oh, sure,” Parker says, giving Matt an assessing look. I wait for him to notice her—she’s rather incredibly beautiful, after all, but he just smiles and turns his eyes to me.

“How’s the decision-making process coming along?” he asks. “Any more questions about our offer?”

“Uh…I…I don’t think so,” I stammer. His presence really flusters me…so much like Jimmy, but not quite there. Sort of like how coffeecake made with nonfat sour cream lacks the richness of the real thing. How Coldplay doesn’t quite measure up to U2. Matt is rather like…Jimmy Lite.

“You know what?” Parker says. “I think I’ll catch up with my son. Nice meeting you, Matt. I’ll catch up with you later, Luce.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” Matt says as she leaves.

“She’s my friend,” I say rather stupidly.

“I see,” he replies. He really does have nice eyes. Not as nice as Jimmy’s, but pretty nice nonetheless.

“Um, about the offer, uh, I don’t have any questions. You answered them the other night.” Stop babbling, Lucy. “I’m just taking my time. Making sure it’s the right thing for me.”

“As you should,” Matt agrees. “Well, if there’s anything I can do, just say the word. I do need a decision by November First, though. I think I mentioned that.”

“Yes. You did,” I say. He smells good. “And honestly, I can’t think of a reason to say no. It’s a great offer, and I’ll give you a definite answer next week, how’s that?”

“That would be fantastic. We think your bread is the best, and that’s what NatureMade wants. The best.” He gives me a little wink, and a little buzz attraction wriggles in my stomach.

“Flatterer,” I say, unable to suppress a grin.

“So tell me about this Taste of Mackerly,” Matt says. “I’m probably hallucinating, but I think I saw a giant clam a few minutes ago.”

“Show that clam some respect,” I return. “We’re going to burn him later. These are his final hours.”

“I see.” He grins. “Anything else I should know?”

It’s easy to talk to him—he seems so…level. So uncomplicated, really, since there’s no sticky past or mishmash of feelings here. I point out Lenny’s as the place for stuffed clams as well as my in-laws’ booth for Italian, and he promises to check both out.

“Hello, hello, hello!” Rose coos from behind me. All three Black Widows hold Starbucks cups.

“Well, if it isn’t the toast man,” Iris says, giving me a wink that contorts her entire face. “And how are we all getting along today?”

“What a beautiful coat,” my mother murmurs, reaching out to touch the sleeve of Matt’s suede bomber jacket. “I always liked a man who knew how to dress.”

The Black Widows seem to have forgotten that I’m actually dating Ethan these days. My stomach starts to ache.

Matt accepts a cookie from Iris, who gives me yet another arch look.