stayed guarded. “Thank you.”
“Did I hear you say you had warm monster cookies?” Deacon asked.
“Fresh from the oven,” she said, putting on a professional smile.
“I’ll take one.”
“Coming up.” She pressed some keys on her cash register.
He held up his credit card. “Your advice was good yesterday.”
She looked puzzled.
“You suggested the sourdough bread. You were right.”
“I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it.” She pointed to the small terminal, and he swiped his credit card over the window.
“I’m back today for more.”
“That’s what we like to hear.”
The machine beeped its acceptance of his payment, while another staff member set his cookie plate on the counter.
He knew his time was almost up.
“I was wondering,” he said to Callie.
Her pretty brows went up in a question.
“Would you join me for coffee?”
The question clearly unnerved her. She touched her wedding ring, and her gaze darted to her sons.
“I don’t mean right now,” he clarified. “Maybe later?”
Her forehead creased.
“Or tomorrow,” he hastily put in, sensing her imminent refusal.
“It’s really nice of you to offer,” she said.
“I hear a but in there.”
Was she dating the Mayor? She’d certainly say no to coffee with Deacon if she were dating the Mayor.
“The but is that I’m really, really busy.”
“I understand,” he said, pocketing his card.
Being busy was probably just an excuse. It likely had more to do with Mayor Watkins. But pushing her wasn’t going to get Deacon anywhere—better to regroup.
Not that he’d made a decision to romance her. He was still assessing the situation.
He wasn’t about to take advantage of an innocent woman. But if she was gaming the rich Mayor now, she might have been gaming Frederick before him. And that changed the equation entirely.
“Maybe another time,” he said to her.
“Are you staying long in Charleston?” she asked.
“I haven’t decided.” He gave her an intimate smile. “It depends on how well I like it.”
Her cheeks flushed.
He lifted the plate with his cookie. “Thanks for this.”
“Any time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
She didn’t seem to know how to respond.
He backed off. He’d ask around town. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone would know if Hank Watkins was in a relationship with Callie.
In the small office in the back of the bakery, Callie’s gaze rested on the framed photo of Frederick and the boys. She was struck by how much the boys had grown since Frederick passed away. She lifted the picture into better lighting.
It was the last one taken of her sons with their father. It was on their road trip last September. They’d traveled north along the coast, all the way to Virginia Beach.
Frederick had loved driving holidays. She suspected that sitting in a car made him forget about his disability and feel just like everyone else.
James was patient with the long rides, but Ethan was less than enthusiastic about spending so much time in his car seat. Frederick had done his best to entertain Ethan, who had just turned one that trip, while Callie had done the driving. It seemed like such a long time ago.
In November, Frederick had come down with a cold, just a routine cold that James had picked up in preschool. It settled in Frederick’s chest, which was normal for him. He insisted it was nothing to worry about, since both James and then Ethan had run fevers with the bug, coughed a few nights and then recovered.
But in the morning, Frederick’s fever had spiked alarmingly. Callie had rushed him to the hospital, where he lost consciousness and was diagnosed with pneumonia. They started antibiotics immediately. But his lungs had been severely bruised in his fall as a young teenager, and the scarring had left them weak.
He never woke up, and she’d said a final goodbye to him within hours.
Now she looked at the photo, Ethan grinning on Frederick’s lap, James standing with his head on Frederick’s shoulder. James still remembered Daddy, but Ethan only knew him from photos and video clips. Both boys had changed so much, grown so strong, learned so much. Frederick would be proud of them both.
“Callie?” Hannah poked her head through the open doorway.
“Is it getting busy out there?” Callie set the picture back down.
It was nearing the lunch hour. Pam had the boys until two today. With Frederick gone, Callie had modified her schedule. Pam was a godsend of a babysitter, and Hannah kept the bakery running like a well-oiled machine when Callie had to be at home.
“The lineup’s growing,” Hannah said. “The Spring Berry Cheesecake is still really moving.”
Callie was happy with the news. They’d created the recipe and introduced the new item just this month. It was gratifying to hear it was a success.
“I’m on my way.” Callie rose and followed Hannah through the kitchen to the café.
The lineup was halfway across the seating area. A few tables had just been vacated. Callie moved quickly to clear them and make room for more customers to sit down.
As she freshened the last of three tables, she was surprised to spot Deacon Holt sitting in one of the window booths. It had been a week since he was last in the café, and she’d assumed his vacation had ended and he’d left town.
Since she never expected to see him again, she’d allowed herself to fantasize the past few nights. Her fantasies ranged from hand-holding in the park to kissing under the stars to more, much more. She felt her face warm thinking about it. She knew he couldn’t read her mind, but looking at him now felt oddly intimate.
He spotted her. “Hello, Callie.”
She shook
