okay, the clichéd phrases of support he’d grown to resent during his dad’s illness. But Logan only bent to pet Tater behind her ears before turning for his big truck parked in the garage.
Noah headed for the steps leading up to the garage apartment, letting out a shaky breath as he did. He’d like to run back to the forest, to hide out and avoid everything that was coming. But his mom needed him. He owed it to her, and he’d made a promise to his father over ten years ago to take care of the family. He hadn’t been called on to do much more than change an occasional lightbulb or fix a faucet drain until now. This summer would change that, and during his few days away he’d realized who he wanted by his side as he managed through all of it.
* * *
He walked into Life is Sweet forty-five minutes later and inhaled the rich scent of pastries and coffee. The morning crowd was gone, but the café tables arranged on one side of the bakery were still half-full with couples and families.
Crimson was the quirky, down-home cousin to nearby Aspen and benefited from its proximity to the glitzy resort town when it came to tourism. That and the fact that the town was nestled in one of the most picturesque valleys in the state. He knew the bakery was popular not only with locals, but also with people visiting the area thanks to great reviews on Yelp.
His gaze snagged on Katie, bent over a display of individually wrapped cookies and brownies near the front counter. Today she wore a denim skirt that just grazed her knees, turquoise clogs that gave her an extra inch of height and a soft white cotton T-shirt with a floral apron tied around her waist. He wanted nothing more than to run his hand up the soft skin of her thighs but didn’t think she’d appreciate that in the middle of her shop or after how he’d left her.
Her hair was tied back in a messy knot, a few loose tendrils escaping. The scent of her shampoo reached him as he approached, making him want her all the more.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered, trailing one finger down her neck.
“What the—” She whipped around and grabbed his finger, pinning it back at an angle that made him wince.
“It’s me, Bug,” he said through a grimace.
“I know who it is,” she said, lessening the pressure on his hand only slightly. “Your free pass is over, Noah. Don’t call me Bug. Or gorgeous.” She leaned closer. “I’m not interested in your bogus lines. What you did was lousy. We were friends and now...” Her voice broke on the last word and she dropped his hand, turning back to the cookies. “Lelia’s taking orders today.” She nodded her head toward the young woman at the register. “If you want something, talk to her.”
“What I want is to talk to you.” He reached out, but she moved away, stepping behind the counter, her arms now crossed over her chest. He knew he’d messed up leaving the way he had but didn’t think Katie would be this angry. There was nothing of the sweetness he usually saw in her. The woman in front of him was all temper, and 100 percent of it was directed at him. “Let me explain.”
“I know you, Noah. Better than anyone. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I should have seen it coming.” She waved a hand in front of her face, bright spots of color flaming her cheeks. “Lesson learned.”
“It wasn’t like that.” He moved closer, crowding her, ignoring the stares of the two other women working behind the counter and the sidelong glances from familiar customers. “Being with you—”
“Stop,” she said on a hiss of breath. “I’m not doing this here.”
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
* * *
Katie huffed out a breath but grabbed his arm and pulled him, none too gently, through the swinging door that led to the bakery’s industrial kitchen. She’d prepared herself for this conversation for the past four days. Actually, she’d wondered if Noah would even try to talk to her or if he’d just pretend nothing had happened between them. Maybe that would have been better because prepared in theory was one thing, but having him in front of her was another.
Her heart and pride might be bruised by the way he’d walked away, but her body tingled all over, sparks zinging across her stomach at the way he’d touched her—at least until she’d almost broken his finger. She had to keep this short, or else she’d be back to melting on the floor in front of him.
Once the door swung shut again, she released him and moved to the far side of the stainless-steel work counter that dominated the center of the room.
Suddenly Noah looked nervous. Which didn’t seem possible because he was never nervous, especially not with women. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, as if that was all he had to offer her.
“Okay,” she answered and began to rearrange mixing bowls and serving utensils around on the counter, needing to keep her hands busy.
“Okay?”
“Fine, Noah. You’re sorry and you don’t want me to be mad at you.” An oversize pair of tongs clattered to the floor. She bent to retrieve them then pointed the tongs in his direction. “You’ve apologized. I’ve accepted. You can go now.”
“What if I don’t want to go?”
“You sure weren’t in a hurry to stick around the other night.” She tossed the tongs into the sink across from the island. “How long after I fell asleep did you sneak out? Ten minutes?”
Her eyes narrowed when he didn’t answer. “Five?” she said, her voice an angry squeak.
“I didn’t sneak out,” he insisted. “You have to get up early and I didn’t want to wake you.” He leaned forward, pressing his palms on the counter’s surface, his dark T-shirt pulling tight over his chest as he did. “You knew I was heading out on the trail for a few days.”
Her mouth went dry, and she cursed her stupid reaction to Noah Crawford. His hair was still damp at the nape of his neck and she could smell the mix of soap and spice from his recent shower. He’d got more sun while in the woods, his skin a perfect bronze, and there was a small cut along one of his cheeks, like a branch had scraped him. Despite her anger, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe the tension she could see in his shoulders. She had to get him out of her bakery before her resolve crumbled like one of her flaky piecrusts.
“I get it. But I was disappointed in you...” He flinched when she said the word disappointed, but she continued. “Mainly, I’m furious with myself.” She lowered her arms to her sides, forced herself to meet his blue eyes. “I know who you are, how you treat women. I shouldn’t have expected it would be any different with me.”
He shook his head. “You are different—”
“Don’t.” She held up one hand. “We’ve been friends too long for you to lie to me. It was one night and it was good.”
One of his brows shot up.
“Great,” she amended. “It was great and probably just what I needed to bolster my confidence.”
“Your confidence?”
“My confidence,” she repeated, suddenly seeing how to smooth over what had happened between them without admitting her true feelings. “It had been...a while since I’d been with a man. Truthfully, I was kind of nervous
