He’d come to learn after these past few calls that Tori’s caseworker was a very no-nonsense woman. Kind but firm, as Blake imagined she’d have to be to do her job well. She also seemed to want the best for Tori, which helped a lot.
Except for those days when Blake worried the best wasn’t him.
Blake paced in front of the sinks in the men’s room of the coffee shop, running his fingers through his hair while debating if he could shimmy out the back window and avoid Mark waiting for him out front. This was too much for one day, and he felt he’d reached the inevitable intersection point where, from here forward, no matter what he chose, every decision would result in dire consequences.
Anita had politely decreed it was time for him to make a solid decision. After his meeting tomorrow with Tori’s CASA volunteer—with Charlie—Anita would be expecting him to call her and decide if he wanted to move forward with adoption proceedings and all the paperwork that entailed, or if he wanted to sign away his next-of-kin rights to Tori...which essentially meant he recognized their blood relation but chose to move on with his life. Without her.
Clearly that wasn’t an option. But Blake had never imagined it would take this long for Tori to warm up to him. He’d tried to explain as much to Anita, and while she’d expressed sympathy, her hands were tied. The system couldn’t stay in limbo indefinitely, and it wasn’t fair to anyone to let it stay that way. He needed to figure this out, and the sooner the better.
“Dragging this out any longer will only hurt or confuse Tori” was the way she’d gently ended the conversation. He couldn’t bear to tell Anita he still hadn’t revealed his identity to Tori in the first place.
He braced his hands on the sides of the sink and stared in the mirror. Of course, it didn’t help that he kept fumbling every move he made around the poor girl. He wouldn’t want to go with him, either—not when she was starting to get established in school and had the other girls at Tulip House, and...
A sudden chilling thought struck him much harder and colder than any snowball. What if that was what was best for Tori? Staying at Tulip House, with Charlie and Art and Gretchen close by? What if it wasn’t with him at all?
No one else in his family had wanted to keep in touch with him. Why should she? Like she’d clearly pointed out last night—he kept hurting her or hurting the things she cared about. Despite Nadia and even Sabrina starting to slowly come around to his presence, Tori kept a guard up. What if that was the Lord’s way of telling him he’d misunderstood and was on the wrong path?
But if that was the case, why did he want to be a family so badly?
The bathroom door cracked open with a thud, and an elderly man with a cane attempted to make his way inside. Blake rushed to hold the door for him, nodded at the man’s thanks and glanced into the lobby. Mark still waited at their table, bent over his iPad while his foot tapped a rhythm under the table.
Another decision he had to make quickly.
Of course, there was one solution—a bad pitch. If he didn’t make the offer sound good, Mark would refuse, and Blake could go back to his headquarters in Colorado and tell his boss that he’d tried, but he couldn’t force someone into a sale. Then the dogs would stay safe, Charlie would stop hating him and he wouldn’t be the bad guy anymore.
Except he’d be a liar. And his boss would send someone else, and Blake would still risk losing his job once the sale was easily made by a coworker. He needed the position for himself and Tori, even if that meant upsetting people in the short run. He had to play the long game—for Tori’s sake.
He set his jaw and strode purposefully toward Mark’s table. He’d pray first. But unless the Lord intervened, this sale would happen.
Time had run out.
Charlie pulled open the coffee shop door, juggling a box of newly baked gingerbread muffins in her other hand. The aroma of freshly ground beans wafted over her, and she took an appreciative sniff as she made her way inside.
She had dropped Tori, Nadia and Sabrina off at Paradise Paws after their baking session to start planning the next fund-raiser with Rachel. Nadia had shot her a questioning look over Tori’s head as they piled out of her SUV. The older teen knew something was up—two spontaneous fund-raisers, back-to-back in one week? It was obvious Paradise Paws was struggling and needed help. Charlie wouldn’t be able to keep that fact a secret, but she could at least keep Blake out of it awhile longer.
And maybe—just maybe—he would surprise her, and it wouldn’t matter. Maybe he’d found a way to talk his company into pursuing a different property. Or maybe he’d canceled his meeting with Mark.
She almost hated to hope. But it was nearing Christmas, and if she’d ever allow herself the luxury, it was this month.
“Hey, Luke.” She slid the box across the counter of the coffee bar as holiday music spilled out of the speakers overhead. The gangly college-aged barista wore a maroon apron over his casual clothes and, as usual, offered Charlie a big smile. As manager, he’d always been supportive of her start-up business. She’d been wondering lately if he didn’t have some plans for his own.
“What have we got? The usual?” Luke picked up the package and started to peek inside, his blond hair sticking out in tufts from beneath the sides of his ball cap.
Charlie pushed up her long sleeves. “Gingerbread muffins, in honor of the season. I’m going to sell the rest of them I made today at the winter market this weekend.”
“Nice.” Luke nodded. “I’ll be sure to stop by with my girlfriend. She loves those craft-fair thingies.” He wrinkled his nose and shrugged. “And I like baked goods.”
“Talk about an ideal match, right there.” She laughed and tapped the box in front of Luke. “Let’s mark these the same price that we usually do for the blueberry muffins and the scones. Oh, and can you grab me an extra bag? I want to save one for my meeting tomorrow afternoon.”
“Got it.” He quickly bagged a muffin and handed it to her, then grabbed a Magic Marker and scribbled the amount on the corner of the box. “I have a feeling these will sell like...well, like hotcakes. Ever thought of making those?”
“Holiday pancakes? Interesting. I might think on that.” Charlie pulled her wallet from her bag and fumbled inside for cash. “Can you make me a latte?”
“On the house.” He pushed away the dollar bills she extended. “Merry Christmas.”
Man, she loved this town. She smiled. “Thanks, Luke.” She tucked her wallet back into her purse, turning to observe the festive decorations. The baristas had gone all out with putting up a tree in the corner of the shop, covered in various coffee-themed ornaments. Mistletoe dangled over the double front doors adorned with giant wreaths tied with red bows.
Mistletoe reminded her of Blake, and her cheeks flooded with heat. She was going to have to address the kiss with him at some point. It was childish not to. But first, she had to figure out what in the world she was going to say. That can never happen again. Please kiss me again. You’re still leaving, right? Please don’t leave.
She groaned. Her jumbled thoughts were way too convoluted to risk leaving her lips. She had other things to think about, besides—like her upcoming CASA meeting the next afternoon regarding Tori.
It was incredibly hard to even think about Tori possibly leaving when she’d just gotten plugged in so well at Tulip House. But it was Charlie’s job to be unbiased and support what was best for her assigned kid, and she’d do her job the way she was supposed to.
Her gaze flickered around the café until it landed on two men sitting at a table by the far window, and her breath hitched. Blake.
And Mark Raines Jr.
Her hopes scattered like a fresh dusting of snow. Blake hadn’t canceled his meeting. She should have known better.
“Here you are!” Oblivious to her turmoil, Luke slid a cardboard sleeve onto her latte cup and handed it over the counter. “I added some peppermint sprinkles. Hope that’s okay.”
With shaky hands, she took the cup from him, unable to tear her gaze away from the men as they stood and continued talking, arms folded. She couldn’t decipher the meaning behind Blake’s neutral expression.
“Are you okay?” Luke’s concern jerked her attention back to him. He frowned. “Should I have used the cinnamon sprinkles instead?”
“No, no, I’m sure this will be delicious.” Charlie flashed him a half smile that probably looked as dead she felt inside. “Thank you so much.” Then she looked back at Blake and Mark just as they broke into smiles and shook hands. Her stomach dropped somewhere down near her boots.
It was happening.
Paradise Paws had just received its official expiration date.
The Lord had intervened.
Blake shook Mark’s hand as they stood, keeping a smile glued on his face that hopefully hid the surprise and weariness rushing through his body. Even though Blake hadn’t held back on his sales pitch, Mark wanted time to mull it over. In all the scenarios Blake had imagined, that hadn’t been one of them.
It looked like he’d be stuck in Tulip Mound a few more days. At least this way he’d have more time to try to make a better impression on Tori—assuming Charlie gave him a chance—but with this sale looming over his head, how would he concentrate? It’d take another divine intervention.
Blake nodded as Mark tucked his iPad into a leather case, lifted his hand in a wave and began to head toward the door. He turned last-minute, walking backward, and pointed at Blake. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Sounds good.” Blake’s tone sounded much more gracious than he felt, and for a moment, his legs felt shaky under him. He hadn’t made the sale. Had his own subconscious held him back? Or had the Lord called his bluff and was telling Blake to slow down...to wait? Wasn’t that what he’d prayed for before pitching to Mark?
Or maybe he wasn’t that good at this anymore. Wasn’t that what his boss kept hinting at lately? He didn’t have the “killer instincts” he used to. Though, honestly, he didn’t think he’d ever really had them. He’d started this whole career path in pure desperation to leave behind his roots and climb a ladder—any ladder at all—up, up and away from Tulip Mound.
And yet here he was, right back in the middle of his hometown and creating a bigger mess than before he left. Now, if he didn’t make this deal happen, the career he’d worked the last near decade for would be on the line, and what would he do then?
He bit back a groan. He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment, save for the dull pounding in his temples and the mild panic upping his heart rate a few beats per minute. His boss would be calling for an update later that night, and he had nothing positive to offer.
The speakers played a festive version of “Feliz Navidad,” one that struck a stark contrast to his mood. He picked up his nearly empty coffee cup from the table, shouldered his bag and turned toward the front of the shop just as a small figure barreled toward him.
Charlie.
He stopped short just before running into her. “Oh! Hey.” He shook his head to clear it, but the hurt in her deep brown eyes wasn’t a trick of the light. Well, back atcha. He wasn’t the one who had kissed her and practically run away.
“Was that it?” Charlie started to cross her arms, that defensive move she always made when trying to protect herself, then seemed to realize she held a cup of coffee. She took a sip instead, but the movement did little to hide her shaky hands. “Is it over?”
She was a spy. A beautiful spy, but still a spy. He frowned. “That was a private meeting.”
She narrowed her eyes. “In a public space.”
“What was I going to do, invite Mark to my room at the Hummingbird Inn for tea?” Blake ran his hand down his face. He didn’t have time for Charlie’s games, not with everything still unspoken between them. He sort of wanted to kiss her again. And he sort of wanted to walk...no, run after Mark to ask him to reconsider...yet on top of all that, he couldn’t deny the generous measure of relief that, despite the pending consequences, this deal was currently out of his hands.
For a minute, he could stop being the bad guy.
Then the guardedness in her eyes shifted a little, revealing a vulnerable look he’d never been able to handle well with Charlie. It was the look that made him want to protect her, shelter her, buy her pieces of jewelry...specifically one for her left ring finger.
But he’d missed that chance years ago.
“Look, I didn’t know you’d be meeting him here. I was making a delivery.” She drew a ragged breath. “But since you are here—is that it for Paradise Paws? Do I need to call Rachel and give her a heads-up?”
Blake studied the brave tilt of her chin, the barely contained anxiety in her eyes, the stubborn push of her shoulders, and his heart stammered. Was she really going to ignore the fact that she’d smacked a big one on him under the mistletoe yesterday and then never said another word?
He really didn’t owe her an explanation about anything. This was a business deal that didn’t concern her directly—indirectly, sure, but that wasn’t and had never been his fault.
Of course, he was the one currently keeping a major secret from her about Tori. Guilt niggled, and he finally conceded. “Nothing is official yet.”
Her stiff posture sagged. “Really?”
“Mark needs time to consider.” He adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder. “Is there anything else?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, shifting her coffee to her other hand. “Maybe we should talk.”
Finally. If they’d ignored the elephant between them any longer, it would have needed a Santa hat. “I agree.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. His breath hitched, and he willed himself to stand still and not pull her into his arms. There wasn’t any mistletoe today, but beyond that, he had to quit remembering what it’d been like to kiss her. Surely, she was going to express something along the same lines—the kiss had been a mistake.
Though his heart begged to differ.
She finally spoke. “The girls at Tulip House have decided to play matchmaker with us.”
He paused. “Okay...”
“I just wanted you to be forewarned. Who knows what they’ll try next?” She laughed, avoiding his gaze. “Silly, huh? If they only knew.”
Wait. “Knew our current dynamic? Or knew our history?” He tilted his head, unsure which answer he hoped she’d give. But it didn’t really matter, did it? He wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d ever have another chance with Charlie, after all that stood between them. He was the bad guy. She’d made it abundantly clear.
And he was bound for a jet plane.
“Both.” She focused on her coffee, rubbing her finger over the lid. She shrugged. “Either.”
He might not ever have the liberty to kiss her again, but he couldn’t handle going back to Colorado without her friendship. As much as being in her life with that kind of boundary would hurt, he’d take what he could get.
“Charlie...” He gently lifted her chin with one finger, then lowered his hand before he did something impulsive. “This doesn’t have to be so awkward, you know.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I think it’s better that way.”
“Well, let the record show—I miss us. I miss your friendship.”
“You sure didn’t seem to have trouble walking away from it.” She tossed back a big gulp of her drink, her eyes guarded.
He hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “Mistakes were made.”
“Yeah, well.” Charlie took a step toward the door, a sad smile on her face. “The same could be said about yesterday.”
This time, she left him standing behind, watching her go.