Love Finds You in Hershey, Pennsylvania (21 page)

“Wanna go outside?”

He was looking at her again, his hand extending her own dish of mocha chocolate chip with hot fudge toward her. Kylie had released his legs and now stretched her tongue to new limits as she licked the sides of her chocolate cone.

“Sure.” Sadie took the plastic dish and allowed Jasper to lead the way out into the warm summer sunshine.

They settled at a tarnished table in a sea of newly sprouted grass. Kylie crawled onto one of the aluminum benches, her little legs swinging beneath her as she continued to take methodical licks of her cone. Jasper ran the tiny white spoon around the edges of his vanilla mint, creating a pool of chaos in a cup before stabbing out a chunk to eat. Sadie glanced down at her own dish. She ate ice cream carefully, always smoothing out the sides as she went, to maintain an outward facade of perfection while inside…everything was melting.

After several minutes of sugar-induced silence, Kylie held out the bottom half of her cone.

“Kylie’s done.”

Jasper held out his dish, and Kylie deposited the chocolate remains right on top of his pristine vanilla pool. Sadie looked at the two of them, blending disorder like that. How did they do it?

“Kylie wants to play.” She pointed to a rusty swing-set creaking softly in the breeze. Visions of corroded metal rupturing and falling atop Kylie filled Sadie’s head.

“Hands first,” Jasper commanded.

Kylie held out her palms. Jasper took her little fingers and popped them in his mouth, licking away the stickiness. He wiped down each digit with his napkin and then set it to work on her lips, carefully cleaning the gooey smudges that clung to her mouth.

She squirmed. “Kylie done?”

“Kylie’s done,” he confirmed with a smile.

She scampered off without another word, content under Jasper’s watchful supervision. Sadie hadn’t said anything, but she marveled— marveled at how he made even parenting seem easy.

“Jasper, why
didn’t
you ever get married, have kids?” Her ice cream was melting hopelessly, the malleable chocolate walls falling in on themselves.

Jasper stuck his spoon in the center of her collapsed fortress and stole a bite. He shrugged. “Guess I always figured, deep down, that you were the girl for me…but seeing as how you were already taken…” He trailed off.

She swallowed. “What about your fiancée from college…what was her name? Veronica?”

“Victoria.”

“Right. Victoria.”

He bit off the end of Kylie’s ice cream cone and chewed it down. “What about her?”

Sadie swung her foot back and forth beneath the table in nervous agitation. “Did you love her? I mean, you were engaged to her.”

Jasper balled his napkin between his palms and dropped it to the table. “I think what I always liked best about her were the things that reminded me of you.”

Sadie felt a little tug at her heart. “Such as?”

“Oh, she was high-strung…stubborn…
totally
high-maintenance.” He nudged her teasingly, and she slapped him lightly on the arm. He grabbed her fingers in his and held them tightly as he grew serious.

“I couldn’t imagine making a home…having children…with anyone else. It was strange. Every time I tried to conjure the image, I kept seeing myself in the front yard, looking down the street, ‘cause I always knew that’s where you’d be. Just like when we were growing up. And I couldn’t be happy where I was even when you were only several doors away.”

“You knew that…all along?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “I don’t think I knew it consciously. But deep down…” He paused. “Yeah. I think I did.”

They were silent for a while, fingers intertwined and their eyes fixed on Kylie as she swung back and forth on the swing-set. Clouds moved sluggishly overhead, and the scent of car fuel and freshly churned ice cream floated by them.

“What about Ned?” Jasper finally asked, his voice soft. “What was it like being married to him?”

Sadie smiled a little wistfully. It didn’t escape Jasper’s attention. “Like a train wreck and a jet flight all at the same time. I was the train wreck—he was the jet flight.”

She laughed lightly at this analogy. “No, it was…exhilarating, at first. And then it was steady. Easy. Comfortable. And when Kylie arrived, there was a rhythm all its own.” She swallowed. “The hardest part was that I felt like I wasted that last year we had. If I had known I’d only have him one more year, I would have dropped the cooking show and pushed back the deadlines for the cookbooks. Ned took care of things, and then he watched Kylie while I dashed around from here to there, signing contracts, doing interviews and promotion spots, filming.…”

Jasper’s eyes were intent on her face, but Sadie kept looking at Kylie.

“If I had known how quickly some things end, I think I’d have learned to live in the moment a little more.”

She looked at him, and something in his eyes shadowed the doorway of her heart.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think you could learn…to live in the moment?” he asked her.

Sadie bit her lip. She wasn’t really that type of person. No one knew that better than Jasper. She just couldn’t be still, be happy. She didn’t know what it was to hold an infinitesimal moment in an encapsulated bubble of time to cherish and examine over and over again. She knew what Jasper was asking her.

Could she learn to let go and simply love him without letting every little thing come in between them? Could she avoid making the same mistakes she had made before Ned died?

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. Because she didn’t. It was against her nature, and she didn’t know if that could change.

His next question surprised her, however.

“Do you think you want to learn?”

Sadie cocked her head. There was a tug deep inside her, but for what or whom, she didn’t know. She didn’t answer him this time.

They both settled on watching Kylie and avoiding the rest of the implications this conversation suggested. Sadie’s mind continued to churn and foam as they sat there, basking in the fresh, warm breeze and the sound of Kylie’s laughter.

After some time, Sadie turned to Jasper once more. “Do you really think I can’t make desserts?”

He smiled at her. “Does it really matter to you?”

“Well,
duh
.”

“
Should
it matter to you?”

She made a face. “Jasper, this is my
career
. What do you think?”

He looked away. “I think you’re already phenomenally good at what you do, and you should stay focused on that instead of trying to be perfect at things you’ll probably never be perfect at.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying I’m an awful dessert chef.”

“Sadie.” His tone was both warning and exasperated.

“I’m just asking!”

“No, what you’re doing is beating a dead horse.”

“So you’re saying my desserts taste like
dead horse
?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Sadie, I never—”

There was a slight twinkle in her eyes.

“Are you kidding me, or what?” He wasn’t quite sure.

She shrugged. Jasper smiled in contentment and drew her close to press a kiss to her forehead. She leaned against him and didn’t push the subject further.

But no matter what she told Jasper, Sadie knew one thing for certain.

Dead horse or not, this was no laughing matter.

First thing the next morning, Sadie dropped a note of apology in the mailbox to Aunt Matilda before heading into Suncatchers to start the day. The surprise that greeted her as she walked through the back kitchen door caused her heart to stop and then flutter with delight.

Flowers—everywhere. Dahlias, lilies, sunflowers, asters, zinnias, chrysanthemums… And a card lying in the center, in a scented pool of red rose petals. It read only,
“Love, Jasper.”
Her heart did several backflips before righting itself with a soul-shuddering quiver.

Jasper Reeves.

She had never known he could be such a romantic, although she supposed the signs had existed all along. Her best friend. And now…more.

So much more.

Sadie’s fingers trailed through the river of petals. She scooped one up with her fingertips and brought it to her lips, breathing deeply of the heavy, intoxicating scent.

He loves me
.

It was both a realization and a warning. Jasper loved her. Not just as a friend but as a woman. He really did love her.

Sadie nearly gasped with the full force of such a thought. When it settled in the pit of her stomach once more, she felt it clearly—a weight on her system. For reasons she dared not define, it felt nearly like an ache. She swallowed.

“What in the… Did we buy out Hershey Gardens or what?”

Jimmy had just entered through the back door and noted the greenhouse that had seemingly sprung up overnight. Karl pushed past the younger man and came to stand beside her. He glanced down at the note, and his bushy eyebrows raised.

“A regular Don Juan, isn’t he?”

Despite the pain in her stomach, Sadie couldn’t suppress a smile. “You have no idea.”

Jimmy came closer, his eyes round as the plates they served dinner entrees on. “How did these get here, boss?”

Sadie shrugged. “Jasper must have pilfered my keys.”

“Dude.” Jimmy shook his head. “Wish I’d have thought of something like this.”

Karl turned to him. “What—you’re planning to woo our employer here?”

If possible, Jimmy’s eyes widened further. His gaze darted between the two of them. “What? No, I—it’s not like that, boss, I swear! I was thinking of my own girlfriend, Annie.” He ducked his head. “We got in a fight a few nights back, and now she’s not speaking to me… .” His shoulders slumped with despair.

Sadie took several steps over to the grill top and lifted the lavish display of zinnias and roses that rested there. She presented them to Jimmy.

“Here. Give her these. It’ll do wonders, I’m sure.”

Jimmy positively beamed. “Sweet! Thanks, boss! I owe you one!”

Sadie began gathering the rose petals into a bowl. “You can repay me by helping me get these flowers out onto the tables and then starting the coffee brewing.” She smiled happily. “I’m hoping for a large breakfast crowd.”

It took Sadie and Jimmy twenty minutes to distribute the wealth of flower arrangements onto the dining room tables. When they finished, the effect was magnificent—a soothing atmosphere of the suncatchers’ brilliant, jeweled colors and the flowers’ soft, transparent light. Sadie sighed with contentment.

This
was what a dining experience should be: ambience, texture, flavor, and comfort.

She touched a hand to the back of a chair and felt a wave of nostalgia wash through her.

“You should see this place now, Mom,” she whispered. “You’d love it.”

Sadie adored this restaurant. It represented fulfilled dreams and sweet memories, and she couldn’t imagine anything better. Life seemed achingly perfect right now, and she suddenly distrusted the reality of it all.

“Hey, boss!” Jimmy hollered from the kitchen. “We’re out of coffee.”

Sadie sighed. She knew it was too good to last.

Several hours later in the day, the worst of the morning crises had been efficiently avoided. Willow’s quick trip to the grocer’s had restocked the empty coffee supplies while Sadie made a note to order more of the gourmet variety, and Karl’s swift competency had salvaged several of Jimmy’s failed dishes.

By afternoon things were back on track, and Sadie’s euphoria once more began to rise…until Smith and Jones darkened the doorway of Suncatchers.

Sadie gulped and ran to check the calendar.

Monday. Definitely Monday. Not Tuesday, when they usually came in. And one o’clock instead of their regular hour of twelve noon. What was going on?

They settled themselves at their typical booth, however, and this eased Sadie a small amount, though not by much. And when Willow took their order and they chose the grilled chicken green salad with five-spice potato wedges over their usual turkey-and-spinach panini, Sadie’s stomach cramped with nervous anxiety once more.

She couldn’t stand it much longer. She approached their table after Willow had delivered their drinks—orange juice for Smith and apple for Jones instead of their customary cups of tea.

“Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Jones…how are you?”

Their beady old eyes targeted her with ill-concealed disdain. What
had
she ever done to earn their malice? She wondered if they were in cahoots with Jasper’s aunt Matilda.

“Fine, dear,” Smith replied to her inquiry. “And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m just dandy.” She stood there expectantly, though they only gave her the once-over—several times.

“We hear you’ve been seeing that friend of yours,” Jones finally remarked.

“Yes, the Reeves boy,” Smith added.

Sadie affixed a smile and wondered if maybe she should invest in a set of dentures to keep it in place for when the two old crones came around. Of course, Aunt Matilda would probably take her to court if she found out. “He’s hardly a boy anymore,” Sadie pointed out, in response to their observations.

“Mmm.” A collective acknowledgment that hardly granted their approval.