Chapter 15
Eleven hours later, Jake and the boys stumbled into Sunny’s Side Up Diner. They were dog-tired, dirty, and sweat-encrusted. And they all wanted pie for breakfast. There was nothing better after an all-nighter than coffee and a huge slice of Sunny’s caramel-apple-cinnamon pie.
Coach Adams was reading the paper at the counter; he raised his coffee mug to them. “Boys.”
“Coach. How ya doin’?” said Jake.
“Be doing better if Ace would get serious,” Coach mumbled, his mouth downturned, his eyes like raisins in his beefy face.
“Yeah, well . . .” Jake didn’t know what to say.
He lifted a hand in greeting to his former PT client Jorge Ramos, who had almost fully recovered from a stroke, with Jake’s help. Jorge, on his cell phone with his mouth full, winked and waved a triangle of toast at him.
Jake turned, then pulled up short at the sight of his brother Deck sitting alone at a table in back, his big hands wrapped around a steaming mug as if it were his only friend in the world. That hit Jake in the gut.
Old George saw Declan, too, and gave Jake a nudge toward his brother that he didn’t need. But he nodded anyway and peeled off to go sit with him. The others got a table in the front window.
“Hey, man,” Jake said, bumping fists with Deck. “What brings you to town so early?”
“I ran out of toast to burn. And I can never get my eggs right. My sunny side up turns into runny side up.”
“You can run a ranch, but you still can’t conquer a couple of eggs?”
Deck gave him a look. “Don’t you smell nice. Long night?”
“Yeah. It started with Lila dancing on a table at Schweitz’s and then got better with a nighttime drill out near the Lundgrens’ property. Couldn’t let the mythological nuke get their hogs. That’d be way too much bacon for one town.”
Declan smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “So you had to put Lila to bed?”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“Sunny heard at least one version of the story from her neighbor, Otto. He said you and Charlie took her home.”
A moment of silence ensued. Deck waited him out.
“Yeah . . . so. I’ve been patching things up with Charlie,” Jake said, almost testing out the words for himself.
Declan’s hands seemed to tighten on the coffee mug in front of him. After another long moment he said, “Give you some peace?”
“Yeah.” Well, there was peace, and then there was the feel of Charlie’s mouth. There was the fact that it was complicated . . . Even if they managed to forget the past, she didn’t even live in Silverlake anymore.
“Works for me, then,” Deck said.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d think about it.” Jake greeted Sunny as she delivered a huge plate of breakfast to Deck with a slightly lovesick smile. She was easily two decades older than Declan, but she was undeniably attractive, the crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes enhancing her smile. Sunny had gotten her nickname because of her buoyant personality. Nothing, it seemed, could get her down.
Jake looked at what she’d brought his brother. Three eggs, perfectly sunny-side up. A mountain of golden hash browns. Three slices of crispy-browned bacon. Forget about pie. “I’ll have the same, please,” he said.
“You got it, sugar.” With a flash of her dimples, Sunny headed back to her kitchen.
Declan dug in. “Does it matter what I think?”
Jake fiddled with the silverware in front of him.
His brother inhaled the mountain of hash browns soaked in egg yolk. He chewed and swallowed. “I’ve never had . . . the kind of . . . love”—Declan said the word as if it tasted funny—“for anyone that you had for her, and I don’t even know that I’d know to grab for it if I saw there was a chance. But you’re not me.” He smiled that rare smile of his. “You asking for some sort of blessing?”
Jake laughed, almost choking up a little at Declan’s open expression. “What? Why would I be doing that?”
“No reason,” Declan said, returning to his breakfast with a smile still playing on his lips. “No reason at all.”
The two men ate in silence for a while. For the first time since Ace and Everett had put Silverlake in their rearview mirrors and Declan’s heart had shut down, it seemed like there was a chance the word brother could become more than just a word again.
Charlie, Mia, Amelie, and a sheepish Lila all stood in Kristina’s gleaming stainless-steel baker’s kitchen at Piece A Cake. The kitchen was a professional space, undecorated, in sharp contrast to the explosion of color that was the bakery/café.
“Welcome to the cake rejects party!” Kristina announced. “By the way, this is against all health-code regulations. We should do this out in the café, but I don’t want my other customers overhearing any choice words about Bridezilla.”
“What?” Amelie pretended to be shocked. “None of us have anything bad to say about that darling girl. She’s my favorite customer.” She coughed. “Luckily, we’re almost through with her, so I brought champagne to share while we sample her ten rejected cakes.”
“Eleven,” Kristina said evenly. Charlie had never heard that edge in her voice before now.
“Right. Eleven. Which one do we start with?”
“Anything with chocolate?” Mia asked, hope on her face.
“Anything with raspberry?” Charlie chimed in.
“Yes and yes.” Kristina opened her cavernous industrial-sized refrigerator and slid out two trays of small cakes, beautifully frosted—most in white or pale cream ganache. Each was missing a thin slice. A tiny bride stood on one, a groom on another. Yet another cake sported a life-sized engagement ring. Next to it was one with a wedding ring. An adorable pink purse adorned the next, and so on.
“Kristina, they’re stunning.”
“Gorgeous!”
“Way too pretty to eat.”
“How can you stand to cut them?”
“Like this!” Kristina said, and hacked through the middle of the tiny bride’s cake with a wicked-looking knife. Tiny Bride lost part of her veil and her shoulder. “Oooh. That makes me feel so much better.”
Everyone laughed as Kristina slaughtered more cakes and put pieces on paper plates.
“So if she rejected eleven cakes, which one did she finally decide on?” Charlie asked.
Kristina took a deep breath. “Apricot Champagne. The first one I suggested, incidentally.” She took another deep breath, then exhaled it slowly, as if cleansing herself of evil. “So. We’ll start with Vanilla Hazelnut, Luscious Lemon, and—”
But the girls had already dug in.
“Ohhhh!”
“Oh my God!”
“Thith ith unbelievable, Kristina!”
“Better than sex.”
“If I die right now, I’ll die happy . . .”
Kristina tried to resist preening but failed.
Charlie firmly told herself to stop thinking about calories and tried another cake. It was a velvety, flavorful surprise on her tongue, but she couldn’t identify the ingredients. “Wow, what is this one?”
“Bridezilla’s third idea: Anise Pear. Glad you like it. Not a fan of anise, myself. But as it turns out, neither is she!”
“She’s crazy,” Charlie declared, and took another large bite.
“I think it’s good. I have no complaints.” Amelie popped open the champagne.
“No alcohol for me,” Mia said. “I go back on duty in an hour. But I’ll have some of the Chocolate Raspberry.”
“Patience,” Kristina told her. “I’m getting to it. But we have six more in line before it.”
“I’ll be visiting Granddad while you’re on shift,” Charlie told Mia, trying not to think about the council meeting on Friday morning. Her dread of it only grew. “How was he last night? I meant to call, but got . . .” She cast a sidelong glance at Lila, who still looked a bit green. “Distracted.”
“He’s doing pretty well. He keeps saying he’s going to make the wedding on Saturday, and he’s stubborn. We won’t let him out before then, but . . . he just might.”
“You guys do a fantastic—and patient—job of looking after him. I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” Charlie said.
“Hair of the dog, Lila?” Mia asked, offering Lila a glass of champagne.
Lila shook her head. “That expression alone makes me want to hurl.”
“Does that mean you don’t want any cake?” Kristina asked.
“How does everybody know about this already?” Lila exclaimed.
“Seriously?” Amelie grinned. “You did dance on a table—and the main bar—at Schweitz’s. There were people in there. And people walking by outside. And this is a small town.”
“Heard Tommy proposed to you,” Mia said with a laugh. “And that Otto really does think you’re a goddess—as long as you don’t sing.”
“Hey!” Lila protested. “I was actively recruited for choir.”
“To play the triangle,” Charlie reminded her dryly.
“Cake?” Kristina asked. “If we keep your mouth full, you can’t rediscover your inner Leppard.”
There was more laughter as Lila accepted a loaded plate. “That was quite a night,” Lila said, turning to Charlie with a look on her face suggesting she was probing her memory for all the details. “I dreamed you hooked up with my brother.”
Four additional pairs of eyes swiveled to Charlie’s face.
“I dreamed you almost got X-rated with a saltshaker at Schweitz’s,” Charlie said. “Only it wasn’t a dream.”
“I did not! I only used it as a microphone.”
“Yeah, until it spilled into your mouth.”
Giggles echoed throughout the kitchen, reverberating off all the stainless steel.
“Isn’t it kind of weird to dream about your brother hooking up?” Mia asked.
“Yes,” Lila said. “Yes, it is. So maybe that wasn’t a dream, either.”
Four pairs of eyes ping-ponged back to Charlie’s face. “Ugh. I wouldn’t want to dream about my brother hooking up,” Charlie mumbled.
“I’d like to dream about your brother hooking up,” Amelie said. “Brandon is hot.” She cleared her throat in the awkward pause. “What? I saw a picture.”
“If you saw a picture of him, he was a lot younger then,” Charlie said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “He hasn’t been back in a while.”
Another pause ensued.
“Next up is a groom’s cake: Chocolate with Malt-Ball Frosting,” Kristina said, slamming a new cake with one slice removed down on the table. “Not my idea.”
Charlie looked at Kristina with grateful eyes. Brandon was still very, very good-looking by anybody’s measure, but he was also still very, very broken.
Somehow, they worked through all eleven cakes, groaning with pleasure and guilt over all the sugar.
Lila was going for seconds on a Red Velvet groom’s cake when her cell phone rang. “’Lo?” she managed around a large mouthful.
Even though it wasn’t on speaker, Charlie heard Jake’s voice clearly. “How’s your head, dumb-ass?” His affection was clear, despite the crude words, and it warmed Charlie’s heart.
Lila chewed and swallowed. “Aw, Jakey. You haven’t called me that in years! It makes me feel so special.”
“Don’t feel so special that you sing.”
“I’m really starting to feel ganged up on now. Others have commented, too.” She looked around darkly.
“You don’t say,” Jake said. “Are you still bringing that tuxedo over, or are you going to send someone who can still walk in a straight line without hurling?”
“Oh, please. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But now that you mention it”—Lila looked up at Charlie with a gleam in her eye—“I’m gonna send Charlie.”
Charlie sucked in a breath, but Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Great. Send her soon. I’m on call this afternoon. So really, how are you feeling?”
“I feel awesome.”
“You lie. And you snore.”
“I’m hanging up now, bro.”
“I’m pretty sure I just heard you say, ‘Thank you, Jake, for taking my drunk butt home and putting me to bed.’”
“Nope. I don’t think you heard me say it. But I do appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Even if it was just an excuse to hang with Charlie!”
Charlie blushed.
“I’m hanging up now, sis.”
Lila smirked. “You do that.” Then she ate another piece of cake.
The firehouse door was up, and Big Red was gone. Charlie hopped down from Progress and grabbed the tuxedo, in its garment bag, from the passenger side. She walked into the garage, took a look around at the orderly piles of equipment, the boots and jackets and hats hung carefully on brass hooks. Jake’s name on the back of his fireman’s jacket was faded but still legible, and it made her smile.
This is Jake’s world. This is where Jake is happiest.
He’d sounded good on the phone to Lila, joking and laughing. But a pang of doubt hit Charlie hard as she stood in the empty garage, gripping the unwieldy bag. What if, in the light of day, he regretted kissing her again?
“Hi.”
Charlie wheeled around. Jake stood there in his uniform, framed in the doorway leading up the stairs to the living quarters. Oh, did he look good. And all that used to be mine.
“Hi.” Charlie moistened her lips, suddenly nervous. She held up the garment bag containing Jake’s tuxedo for the wedding. “Special delivery!” She released a calming breath. “If you’re going to tell me last night’s kiss was a mistake, too, then this would be your moment.”
Jake stuck his hands in his pockets and cocked his head. “Well, now, let’s see.”
He has to think about it?
Suddenly, Jake burst out laughing. He came down the last few steps and took the bag off Charlie’s hands, hanging it on a utility hook by the light switch. “You should see your face!”
“What’s wrong with my face?” Charlie asked, relaxing now. He did not seem like a man with regrets.
“Oh. You want me to get specific?” Jake walked—no, prowled—toward her with a mischievous grin on his face.
“What are you doing?” Charlie said, laughing even as she backed up, dodging a grease stain and an orange safety cone.
“You know my job is to right wrongs, so let’s see.” He caught her in his arms and gently pressed a kiss on her nose. “No, that wasn’t it. That didn’t feel wrong. Maybe here . . .” He kissed her right under her ear. “I’d better keep checking . . .”
Oh, thought Charlie, on a sigh. This is what it would have been like. Oh my. This is what it could be like.
Could there really be a second chance here?
Jake whispered softly against her ear, “Missed you so much.”
Her breath caught, half on a sob, half on cloud nine. She couldn’t find the words, but as his lips slid down her jawline and he took her mouth with his, for the first time since she’d given him up and sent him away, she imagined the possibility of taking that chance.
They couldn’t change the past, but maybe, just maybe, there was a future here.