“A common theme my acting coach preached is our facial expressions not only convey our emotions, but they can prompt people to mimic or share the emotion. For instance, you know how if someone smiles it makes you smile in return?”
Not exactly how I envisioned this conversation going.
“Yes, I guess.”
“The point is if you project an inviting demeanor, you’re likely to receive one in return.”
“Okay, so you’re saying smile a lot at him?”
Mitch’s chuckle sends a warmth surging through me. I love the way his eyes wrinkle at the corners and his eyes brighten.
“Not exactly, but it’s a start.”
“Margeaux used to practice in front of the mirror making expressions. She is famous for her flirtation with the camera during a photo shoot.”
Margeaux, as in his super model ex. “You don’t talk about her much.”
He shrugs and looks away. “She had a lot of demons. I tried my best to help her, but it was never enough.”
“You can’t save someone if they aren’t ready to be saved.”
“Very true. She’s doing better now, getting the help she needs.”
“That’s good.” I sketch the cake I plan to make for Tom’s parents. “Do you think once she’s healthy you’ll get back together?”
Holding my breath waiting for his answer, I continue planning the cake. He doesn’t respond right away and my lungs demand air. I inhale and peek up at him to catch his expression. He’s staring at the piece of paper I am drawing on. Is he contemplating an answer? Did it mean he is considering getting back with her?
His gaze raises to meet mine. “I didn’t realize you could draw.”
I look back down at my paper. “I can’t. It’s just a cake plan.”
“That’s a detailed cake. I have trouble drawing anything beyond a stick figure.”
Shrugging, I tap the pencil against the paper. Is he avoiding my question?
“And the answer is no, I’ll always care for Margeaux, but we’re just friends.” Mitch rubs his hands together. “So, back to the flirting. The eyes play a big part too.”
Dropping the pencil, I lean my hip against the counter next to him. He faces me and taps the corner of my eye with his index finger.
“Make eye contact and keep it a little longer than a glance. Don’t just drop your gaze, hold his.”
I swallow hard and stare into his blue eyes. My heartbeat speeds up the longer we gaze into each other’s eyes.
“A touch can convey a dozen words in an instant.” He covers my hand with his own and raises his other hand to trail a curved finger along the side of my face.
Goosebumps multiply down my arms.
“And of course, the kiss can say it all.” He lifts my chin and drops his gaze to my lips.
Mitch’s head bends slowly toward mine. When our lips meet, my whole body sighs in relief.
His hand slides along my jaw to cradle my head and his other hand slips along my side to flatten against my back. My hands raise, seemingly of their own accord, and loop over his shoulders so my fingers can delve into the thick, soft hair on the nape of his neck.
The kiss deepens and our tongues begin a hesitant dance.
The pressure of his hand at my back increases, tugging me flush against his body. A soft moan whispers between us, and I realize it was mine.
Our mouths devour one another’s as he maneuvers me so my back is against the counter, pressing our bodies even closer together.
A loud clearing of someone’s throat echoes through the kitchen.
Mitch drops his hands and steps away from me.
I spot Sally standing in the archway between the front and back of the bakery and my cheeks burn. “My shift is over, and Olivia has arrived.”
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come so I nod instead and wrap my arms around my waist.
“I guess lessons will have to continue later. How about scratching off hiking from our list today? You free after closing?”
Hiking?
“Yeah sure.”
Mitch snags a cookie on his way out the back door. My gaze tracks him until he disappears out of view. How could he kiss me like that and then waltz away? It had to mean something to him, didn’t it? He was an actor once and had kissed more than one female lead. Was that all it was, another act?
His hardened body pressed against mine indicated he had certainly been feeling something. I managed to turn him on.
Arousal meant attraction, at least on some level. Didn’t it?
The floor above creaks from Mitch walking across it. The water turns on in the shower upstairs. It’s the middle of the day, and Mitch showered after his run this morning.
Perhaps he found himself in need of a cold shower after his kissing lesson.
Smiling, I remove the rest of the cookies from the cooling racks. I wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss.
During the lull after lunch, I ran home to get sneakers, shorts, and a T-shirt to change into after work for the hike. Okay, it was more like a speed walk than a run.
“Got a hot date with the town’s sexy new resident again?”
Olivia leans against the trim in the archway to the kitchen. I’ve got the kitchen work completed early and I am about to go change.
How could I possibly explain the fake girlfriend and crush plan to her without sounding like a complete idiot? Answer… I can’t.
“We’re going hiking and it’s not a date, we’re friends.”
Her gaze swerves from me to the back door as it opens and Mitch walks in.
My shoulders tense.
Will he find Olivia attractive?
Duh, of course he will. She’s a beautiful blonde.
Swallowing my insecurities and shoving them into a corner of my brain in a trunk with a giant padlock, I smile.
“Mitch this is Olivia, my friend and invaluable helper here at the bakery.”
They both stride towards one another and shake hands.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same, I’m a fan of your movies. Especially The Last Redemption, you totally deserved the Oscar for that film. I cried bucket loads watching it—both times.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. The script was brilliant and the actors brought it to life along with an extensive crew.”
Not an arrogant bone in his gorgeous body. He could easily take credit for choreographing the masterpiece, but instead he praises others’ efforts.
My heart soars.
“Enjoy your hike you two.” Olivia waves as she leaves.
“Thanks Olivia, see you tomorrow. Tell Timmy and Tommy hello for me. I still owe you a babysitting stint.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t forget. I’m holding it in reserve.”
Laughing, I glance over to Mitch when the door closes behind her.
“Her kids, I presume?”
“Yes, twins, they’re adorable.”
“You ready to go?”
“I just need a quick minute to change.” Yanking off my apron, I grab the bag of clothes and sneakers from my desk chair and go into the bathroom. “Why don’t you grab two waters from the cooler out front?”
“I’ve got everything we need in the truck.”
“Okay, I’ll be quick.” I close the door and slip off my shoes while tugging my blouse over my head instead of unbuttoning it. A button pops off and pings against the mirror before dropping into the sink.
“No rush.”
With my arms still held hostage over my head by the top since I didn’t unbutton the sleeves either, I glance at the closed door and cringe. I can just imagine the look on his face if I have to ask for his help to extricate me from my clothes.
I’ll rip the shirt to shreds first.
It’s already lost a button, anyway. The chances of me sewing it back on? Slim to none. It will sit in a pile on the floor of my closet with other damaged garments needing repair until I purge the closet and chuck them all.
Stuffing my head back into the blouse and shimmying until it falls enough for me to unbutton the sleeves and remove it properly, I strip and don the jean shorts and a yellow T-shirt. I hop around on one foot trying to put my sneakers on in the confined space and bang into the wall.
“Everything okay?”
Cringing, I finish tying the sneaker. “All good.” I need thicker walls in here.
I cast a last glance in the mirror, smooth stray hairs back into my ponytail and open the door.
“Sorry, my clothes and I had a slight disagreement.”
His chuckle dies as his gaze rakes me from head to toe.
Did I forget to button my shorts or something?
Peering down, I inspect my clothes. Everything is in place.
Mitch clears his throat and opens the back door. “Ready?”
“I think so, but to be clear when you say hike you mean a stroll up a hill, right? Not a mountain climb, or an intense scrabble over trails only a mountain goat would traverse.”
“Don’t worry, I picked something simple. There’s a beginner’s level trail right here in town. It goes to the top of a hill for a nice panoramic view of one of the smaller lakes and it’s only a few miles round trip.”
Crossing behind the sporting goods store into the parking lot where Mitch parked his truck, I wonder if I should ask for a more specific number other than a few. Are we talking three or four, or anywhere up to ten?
There’s a large brown backpack on the passenger seat when he opens the door for me. Mitch stuffs it behind the seat.
What’s in the backpack? What do we need besides a couple of bottles of water? His definition of a hike and mine probably vary greatly. Peeking at his shoes before he disappears around the front of the truck, I silently groan.
He’s wearing hiking boots, not sneakers.
Settling into the seat and shutting the door, I pull the seatbelt across me and hope I’m not going to need physical therapy after this jaunt up a hill. Or a rescue team.
“I thought we could have a picnic dinner when we reach the top so I have a couple sandwiches and stuff.”
“Oh, do you want me to grab dessert from the bakery?”
I didn’t realize we were having dinner, but it is already five o’clock.
“Nope, got it covered.”
Mitch takes a couple of side roads I didn’t even know existed and drives into a small empty dirt parking lot. There’s a brown sign pointing to a dirt trail into the woods.
Here we go.
I stand next to the truck wiping my damp palms on my shorts while he puts the backpack on.
“Oh, one second.” I leap forward and grab my phone out of my purse before he shuts and locks the truck door.
Stuffing it into my back pocket, I follow him over to the path.
Tall trees with thick trunks line the trail for the first stretch. Once the path veers up, the trees become more spread apart. Small gray rocks jut up from the ground turning the hike into an obstacle course for someone like me.
“Look on the branch to the right.”
I gaze in the direction he’s pointing. A bright red cardinal perches on the branch amidst the green leaves.
“Pretty.”
“It’s a male. The females are mostly brown with reddish accents.”
I can relate.
The bird puffs up, emits a metallic chirp, and then flies away.
The sun beats down on us as we climb ever up in a winding pattern. I wipe my brow with the back of my hand. I should have thought to bring a hat.
Mitch is in the lead. There isn’t a speck of perspiration on him or any labored breaths drifting back. Of course, they might be hard to hear over my own huffs and puffs.
“How are you doing?”
I smile at him glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m fine.”
“It’s not much farther.”
Oh good, so less than an hour each way, and the way back is downhill so if I make it to the top it should be smooth sailing from there.
A thick tree root winding underneath the path negates that theory and I stumble over it, smacking my hand against the papery bark of a cedar tree.
“You okay?”
Mitch grasps my arm and inspects me.
“Yup, I need to pay attention to where I’m stepping is all.”
“Do you need a water break or can you wait until we get to the top?” He checks the app on his phone he’s using to monitor our progress. “It’s about five more minutes.”
I wave an arm towards the path. “Lead on.”
Other than a stubbed toe and a slightly dinged ego, I’m fine.
The path ends on a wide granite ledge. Baby blue sky dotted with puffy cotton balls of white are overhead. Beyond the ledge, treetops drop off like a ski jump ending in the distant blue gray waters of a lake which appears no greater than a pond even though I know it’s several miles long and wide.
Mitch walks close to the edge and I squeak in alarm.
He looks back at me. “It’s something isn’t it? Come on over here.”
“Uh, no, I can see just fine from over here. Could you please move away from the edge?”
Chuckling, he takes a step closer and peers down.
“Mitch!”
“Relax, there’s another ledge a couple feet below and another a few feet beyond that. At worst, I’d have a couple of scrapes if I slipped.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He smiles and walks toward me.
“How about water and a sandwich?” Sliding off the backpack, he looks around the rocky plateau and wanders over to a flat spot underneath the canopy of branches and leaves from a large tree.
I gingerly step over the rough surface to join him searching for any creepy crawlies along the way. I may have been a bit of a tomboy growing up but that didn’t extend to playing with bugs or snakes.
Mitch spreads a green plaid blanket over the rocky surface and stacks water bottles, wrapped sandwiches, chip bags, containers of cut up fruit, and napkins onto the blanket.
“Your feast awaits, fair lady.”
Smiling I plop down on the blanket and fold my legs together in front of me, facing him.
A breeze rustles the leaves overhead and cools the nape of my neck.
I guzzle half the bottle of water while Mitch unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite.
“What do you think of the hike so far? Is the view worth the walk up?”
“Yes, I could and would do this again.”
The air is crisp and clean. Not a single motor or any other evidence of modern technology can be heard.
“Good, then we’ll have to plan another one. Soon you’ll be hiking the advanced trails. We’ll have to get you proper footgear first though.”
“Let’s stick to the beginner trails for a while before tackling anything harder. I’m more of a wader than a diver. I like to get my feet wet, then cautiously submerge while the rest of me acclimates.”
“I seem to remember a different scenario.”
The kayak incident will haunt me for years. I scrunch my nose. “There’s choice and there’s involuntary participation.”
Turkey, ham, roast beef, and Swiss cheese on a ciabatta roll with lettuce, tomato, and honey mustard are all layered together in a rainbow of colors and delicious crunch. My stomach thanks me with a low rumble.
I peek at Mitch to see if he noticed, but he is opening a bag of chips.
“Are you a sweet or salty person?”
One eyebrow raises and he glances at the chip in his hand. “I can’t be both?”
“Most people crave one or the other. I, obviously, am a sweets person.”
“You’d be in the wrong business if you weren’t. I like chips with a sandwich, but if I had to choose one or another, I’d have to pick sweets. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a thing for cookies and chocolate of any kind.”
“I may have noticed.”
He winks and bites another chip.
“What’s your favorite meal? If you could have anything what would it be?”
After taking another bite of his sandwich and a sip of water, he shrugs. “I don’t have a favorite. I like pretty much everything. What about you?”
“That’s easy, all desserts.”
“A meal with only desserts?”
“Yes, any regular meal is only what I have to get through to get to the important part.”
“Then I hope you won’t be too disappointed with what I have for dessert. It’s not an assortment, but it is phenomenal.”
“Oh?”
Where and from whom did he get dessert?
Mitch pulls a familiar box out of his backpack.
“I snuck into the bakery earlier and bought this after I saw you walking along the docks.”
Laughing, I look inside The Sweet Spot box. Two pieces of apple crumb cake are nestled inside with forks and napkins rolled up beside them.
“Sneaky, and it’s one of my favorites.”
“I know. Sally told me.”
After we finish eating, we recline on the blanket resting on our elbows. I tilt my head back towards the sky.
I close my eyes and listen to the birds chirping and the wind blowing. A peaceful lassitude pervades my body all the way to my fingers and toes. I could lie all the way down and take a nap.
“We should start back. We don’t want to be traversing the trail in the dark, not for your first hike, anyway.”
I don’t want to navigate any path in the dark. It would be like holding a neon sign over my head saying danger danger, accident imminent.
We pack everything back into the backpack and I walk as close to the edge as I am willing to get and snap a few pictures of the view with my phone and a half dozen of Mitch hefting the backpack onto his shoulders.
Mitch walks over and puts his arm around my shoulders and holds up his own phone to take a selfie of us with the view in the background.
I quickly raise my phone and do the same.
The trip down is less grueling and we descend quicker than the climb up.
The path evens out and I recognize the tree dense area near the parking lot. A spot of black fur under a bush stops me in my tracks.
I bend down to peer under the bushes. Has a cat gotten lost?
There are not many houses around. What if it’s hurt?
I step off the path and gingerly step over broken twigs and rocks. “Here kitty, kitty.”
“Franny?”
Mitch is walking back up the path toward me.
“There’s a cat.”
“It might be wild and scratch you. Hold on, wait for me.”
He jogs up the path and I glance back down to where I saw the cat.
An acrid stench burns my eyes and nose.
Gagging, I stumble back onto the path.
It isn’t a cat, it’s a skunk.
Through watering eyes, I see Mitch staring at me in horror before he covers his mouth with his hand and bends over at the waist laughing uproariously.
He sobers quickly when I take a few steps closer and the stench hits him.
“A cat?” A few more snickers escape him before he claps his hand over his mouth and nose.
I don’t know if his eyes are watering from laughter or the smell of me wearing eau du skunk.
My stomach rolls and I clench my lips together in an effort not to smell myself.
To his credit, he doesn’t ditch me. He walks a few steps to the side of me as we reach the open parking area. His truck is still the only vehicle and I’m thankful no one else is here to witness my humiliation.
What am I going to do? I can’t get into his truck. His brand-new truck will smell of skunk. Not to mention the pungent smell will nauseatingly drench the enclosed space.
Who can I call? What could I possibly say? No one will want me in their vehicle.
I gaze at the back of his truck.
“I’ll ride in the back.”
“You’re not riding in the bed of the truck. Come on, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get you cleaned up.”
Mitch holds open the passenger door but I veer towards the back.
“No. Thank you for offering, but I’m not ruining your new truck and besides even I can’t stand the smell of me in the open air, inside the truck it will be intolerable. At least in the back, the wind might wash a portion of it away.”
He follows me to the back. “Franny, it’s not safe. Don’t worry about the smell.”
“People do it all the time and it’s not like it’s a long trip. There’s no way I’m getting in the cab. Please don’t argue with me.”
I climb over the tailgate and plop down on the black rigid plastic lining the bed of the truck.
Mitch stares at me with his arms hanging over the side clearly undecided if he should press the issue.
“Please.”
The misery etched on my face must have convinced him. He takes off the backpack and fishes around inside for the blanket and holds it out.
“Here, this should make it slightly more comfortable.”
I shake my head. “It’ll be ruined.”
“I don’t care. Take it, it’s the only way I’m not going to continue arguing to get you inside the cab.”
I grab the blanket and stuff it under my butt.
He glances around the bed and frowns. “I’ll go slow.”
“The faster you go, the more wind.” I unfold the blanket and lie down on top of it. “There, safe and sound. Please just take me home.”
The driver’s door slams shut and the engine rumbles to life. The bed vibrates and I bounce a little while he drives out of the parking lot.
At least no one will see me down here, unless they have a higher truck.
The road is smooth and the wind whips around me carrying a substantial portion of the stench away from my nose.
My mother will kill me for stepping foot in her house like this.
I close my eyes and take shallow breaths through my mouth hoping I don’t swallow a bug.
The truck slows to a crawl and I open my eyes. There are buildings looming on either side of the truck.
Lifting my head, I peer over the tailgate.
Mitch is driving down the alleyway between my bakery and the sporting goods store. I could reach out and touch the buildings if I scoot to the sides.
What is he doing? The alleyway isn’t meant for vehicles and why isn’t he taking me home?
He parks by the back stairs and hops out.
“What are we doing here?”
“It’s closer to the grocery store. You can take a shower while I go buy the ingredients to get rid of the odor. I did a quick search on the internet on the way here, hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and liquid detergent should get it out.”
“What about tomato juice?” Didn’t that get out the smell of skunk?
“Old wives’ tale. Come on.” He opens the tailgate and holds up a hand to help me down but I ignore it and jump. I don’t want to make him stink too.
Following him up the stairs with my arms wrapped tightly around my waist, I stop halfway up.
“Are you sure about this? What if I stink up your apartment?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
The door swings open and Mitch moves aside. “The bathroom is straight back attached to the bedroom. Get in the shower and I’ll be right back. There’s soap and shampoo to start with in there.”
He jogs down the stairs and I step into the apartment. The truck starts as I close the door.
Careful not to touch anything unnecessary, I go into the bathroom and turn on the water. I strip everything off me while the water heats and grab a washcloth from the shelf.
I’ll replace whatever I contaminate.
The shower drenches my hair and body. I open the cap of the shower gel. A woodsy scent wafts from the bottle. I’ve caught a whiff of the aroma before on Mitch.
Breathing deep, I stick my nose practically in the gel then squirt a generous puddle onto the washcloth and scrub everywhere. I subject my hair to the same treatment with the shampoo.
Once I’m done washing several times, I sit on the bottom of the shower and let the water pour over my bent head and rain down on my body. I wrap my arms around my folded knees.
The skunk odor still permeates my skin. The scent of the soap and the deluge of water have dampened it somewhat, or perhaps I’m becoming accustomed to the smell.
God, I hope not.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Franny? I’ve got the stuff and I mixed it. It says to use it right away. I’m going to open the door, okay?”
Oh my God!
Mitch is coming in here?
“Wait a minute!”
I pull my knees tighter to my chest and glance around to make sure I’m covered. What a nightmare. It’s like dreaming you went to school naked, only this is real and Mitch will see me like a drowned stinky rat.
The door opens a crack.
“Franny?”
“Just put it on the floor please.”
Mitch opens the door and steps in.
I gape and curl tighter into a ball.
He places a pitcher next to the shower and leaves the room all without looking at me.
“I’ll bring more.”
When the door closes behind him, I open the door and grab the pitcher. A bubbly concoction swirls inside.
I stand up and dump it over my head.
Mitch brings me two more mixtures. Each time I huddle on the bottom of the shower while he places it on the floor and leaves keeping his gaze averted.
The water grows cold, so I shut it off and grab a towel.
My clothes are gone. He must have taken my discarded clothes during one of his deliveries. Not that I would have put any of them near me again, but I don’t exactly relish him handling my undergarments either.
I would have worn something sexier if I had known this would happen.
With my track record, I shouldn’t have left the house wearing anything but my best.
The thick towel is large enough to cover me from my chest to the tops of my thighs, but what do I do now?
There’s a soft knock on the door.
“I put clothes on the bed for you.”
“Thank you.”
I open the bathroom door and peek out. A pair of blue sweatpants and a pullover sweatshirt are folded on the bed.
Checking to see the bedroom door is closed, I drop the towel and pull on the clothes.
They are soft and warm and I snuggle a bit before picking up the towel from the floor. Not sure what to do with it, I end up putting it back in the bathroom.
Mitch is standing in the living room when I open the bedroom door.
“So, ready for another hike?”