Recipe for Romance (4 page)

A man was dead because of him, and the surviving family had suffered as a result.

He forced a smile and crossed the street to stand next to his sister. “I was thinking about grabbing something to eat at the diner,” he said as he approached the sidewalk.

“You’re not sick of my cooking after dinner last night?”

Scott smiled at the recollection of sitting around Lucy’s old farm table with her husband and son, talking and laughing long into the night like any other family would. A few times he’d caught himself thinking that maybe he could have a life like this, but that must have been the wine talking. There was no room for him in this place.

“I haven’t had a meal like that in years.” He grinned.

“Well, you can have another tonight, then. I’m going over to Mom and Dad’s for dinner after work.”

Scott’s gut twisted as he held her eyes, carefully selecting his excuse. Lucy stood before him unwavering, her mouth a thin line. She knew what she was doing. And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Lucy, don’t do this to me.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair in agitation. He broke her gaze and glanced down the street, desperate for an escape.

Her eyes were sharp when he turned his attention back to her. “Dad’s dying, Scott,” she said firmly, her gaze narrowing in disappointment. “The treatments aren’t working. The cancer has spread.”

“You know we don’t get along,” Scott insisted, but Lucy was shaking her head, clearly not buying it.

“Scott, I’ve put up with this nonsense for long enough,” she said, her voice steely. “Whatever happened between you and our parents is old news. You were a teenager then, now you’re a thirty-year-old man. Start acting like one,” she snapped.

Scott took a step back, his eyes flashing with indignation. He forced himself to remember that Lucy didn’t know the part his father had played in the events of the past. He’d kept in touch with her over the years, but he made sure to keep their conversations light, and mostly about her, George and Bobby. “You know I came back for you. You asked for my help in the rebuilding of the library, and I’m here. I’ll see it through, but please don’t ask anything more.”

Lucy’s eyes softened. “I know, and I’m so grateful, Scott. Honestly, I am.” She lowered her eyes to the ground, her shoulders slumping. “I’ve lived with so much guilt knowing that Bobby accidentally caused that fire.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know what we would have done if Max Hamilton wasn’t funding the project in exchange for some land George inherited. You can’t imagine how that felt...the
relief.
”

No, Scott thought grimly. He couldn’t say he did know how that would feel. There was no stranger to swoop into town and clear up his mess, the way Max had apparently helped so much since moving to Maple Woods after the holidays. Scott couldn’t rebuild the past. He couldn’t raise the dead. There was no righting his wrongs.

“It means everything to me that you’re here to take over the job, Scott. Don’t lose sight of that,” she explained.

Scott eyed her warily. “I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

Lucy gave a sad smile. “Don’t let this chance pass you by. It’s been a long time. Let things go. Don’t do something you’ll regret forever.” She held his gaze, and he almost felt his stance weaken, his resolve waver. Almost.

Scott shook his head adamantly, feeling the flush of heat spread up his neck. “I don’t regret staying away, Lucy.” And he didn’t. His father might not have trouble looking people in the eye, knowing the part he played in one of the town’s greatest tragedies, but Scott would rather give up everything he loved than build his life around a lie.

“Well, if you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me!” she said, her eyes suddenly filling with tears as fury blazed bright.

Scott cursed inwardly, feeling the strain of her emotion, the weight of his burden. After a long pause, he said tightly, “No promises.”

Lucy relaxed her stance. She nodded slowly, saying nothing more as she reached out to take his arm. It took everything in him not to break down then and there, to tell her everything. To shed the weight he had carried for so long. To divulge every last detail of what his parents told him that awful night—what their family had done to the Porters.
Those poor Porters.

“Come into the bakery,” she said to him. “We’ve got a special event as part of the opening week and I don’t want you to miss it.”

Scott hesitated. “You’re not working at the diner this morning?”

“Not if I can help it.” Lucy bent down to clip a sprig of blue hydrangea from a whiskey barrel planter. “I barely spent an hour at Sweetie Pie without being interrupted yesterday, they were so lost without me at the diner. I’m hoping things go a little smoother today.”

Without another word, she pushed through the front door, frowning until Scott forced himself to follow. His pulse skipped when he saw Emily standing behind the counter, looking just as pretty as the day before. She met his gaze with a small smile and something deep within his gut stirred. He looked away, around the crowded room, noticing that nearly every table was filled. There was a cheerful buzz to the room, a soft tinkling of music in the background, and the sweet aroma of pie and coffee to make everyone, including him, feel at home.

Home.
He hadn’t thought of that word in a very long time. It was a vague idea of something he wasn’t sure he had anymore. He hadn’t dared to think of Maple Woods as home since he’d left, and his condo in Seattle was just a place to live.

“Emily!” Lucy called to Scott’s horror. His breath locked in his tightened chest. “Mind getting Scott settled? I’ve got to check on that order of strawberries. We should have had them an hour ago.”

Emily’s face blanched and she darted her gaze from Lucy to Scott and back again. “Sure,” she murmured as she finished plating a slice of pie for an impatient customer.

Scott turned to his sister. “I came in here to visit with you, Lucy,” he said quietly.

“Emily will take good care of you. If you let her.” Lucy winked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back.

“I’m just saying that Emily makes a damn good pie,” she said airily. “Last I checked, that was the purest way to a man’s heart.”

Scott chuckled in spite of himself. “Lucy! Please!”

“What? I seem to remember you being awfully smitten with her at one point. I always thought you were going to marry her, in fact.” She lifted an eyebrow and turned away from him with a coy shrug, shutting down the conversation.

Scott shook his head and reluctantly walked over to the display case, sparing an awkward smile for Emily. Guilt and shame haunted him, and he tried desperately to shrug off the unwanted feelings.

“Hi.” Emily’s soft voice dragged him from his darkening thoughts and he quickly recovered, perking up as he let his gaze roam over her pretty face. His stomach tightened as his attention lingered on the smoky gray eyes and that plump, upturned mouth stained a shade of red that excited him more than it should.

“Hey.” He stared into his mug as she filled it to the rim. Just the way he liked it. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her feminine curves beneath the apron she wore, and he tried to recall what it had felt like to hold her waist and feel her body against his. The memory was so close, but just out of reach.

She held his gaze, not betraying any outward interest, and Scott felt a flicker of disappointment. She was being hospitable. Playing her role. Doing her job. He wanted to pull her into a back room, somewhere they could talk, and explain everything. He wanted to atone for the pain he had caused, to make it up to her—somehow. He searched her face, imagining her sweet expression crumbling before his eyes as he delivered the crushing news, and his gut twisted. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t, but to never tell her...

“So, I don’t see you for twelve years and now it’s twice in two days,” she said, shaking her head on a sigh. “The pie must be even better than I thought.”

Scott grimaced at the edge of hurt in her tone and took a quick sip of the steaming coffee. “Lucy invited me in,” he began. “I don’t want to upset you. I can leave if you want.”

Fire sparked her eyes. “Leave?” She chuckled, a soft icy sound that pulled at his chest. She really did hate him, and who could blame her? “Leaving seems to be something you’ve had practice with,” she said evenly.

Scott drew a ragged breath and ran a hand over his face, every inch of his heart aching to set her straight, to tell her the truth. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“Believe it or not I had my reasons.” He cleared his throat and finished the rest of his coffee. His body temperature was starting to rise. He needed to get out of here. Even his father’s office would be better than this place. Anything was better than seeing that hurt expression in Emily’s eyes.

Emily leaned a hip against the counter and folded her arms. “I’m all ears.”

The knot in his gut tightened. Not now. Not like this. Not ever. Emily could never know what he had done, the part he had played in her misfortune. The losses she had suffered at his hand. “It was a long time ago, Em,” he finally said.

After a beat, she gave him a withering smile and slapped a hand over his empty mug, pulling it toward her. “You’re right,” she said, before turning her back on him. “And I stopped holding my breath before you’d even crossed the state line.”

He scowled. “You don’t mean that.”

“Is it really so hard to believe?” She snatched a rag from under the counter and began scrubbing furiously at the polished wood counter. “We were kids, Scott. It was a fling, it was fun, and then it was over.”

“Emily.” She couldn’t mean those harsh words. She couldn’t. They’d been in love. “It wasn’t a fling.”

She stopped scrubbing, but her hand remained clenched on the rag. “Maybe it wasn’t. But it was just as meaningless in the end.”

She turned on her heel and walked away before he could open his mouth to reply. From the entrance to the kitchen, Scott saw Lucy smiling at him, her eyes full of hope. He wrapped a hand around his neck and rubbed at the tense and aching muscles.

If Lucy thought she was playing matchmaker here, she was doing a very bad job of it.

* * *

The nerve of that man!

Emily’s blood pounded in her ears as she assisted the next customer on autopilot. From the corner of her eye she could see Scott, sitting at the counter, fingers tented before him, his mouth a thin, grim line.

What was he still doing here? Why wouldn’t he just leave?

She lifted her chin and turned away from him once more, denying the temptation to steal another glance. So he knew he had hurt her, knew how badly he had broken her heart. And now—now!—he wanted to spare her? As if he assumed she was still holding on, still licking her wounds from a dozen years ago.

She gritted her teeth. He knew her better than she wished he did in that moment.

She turned her head slightly, waiting to take another quick peek, her pulse quickening as she did so. Yep, still there all right. Well, no bother. He was here for Lucy, after all. And the freaking pie. Honestly!

He looked up, catching her stare. Flustered, Emily spilled the coffee she had been pouring all over the counter. She hissed out a curse and grabbed a rag, hiding her burning face behind the curtain of hair spilling from her ponytail as she wiped up her mess, trying to ignore the tremble in her hand.

Damn you, Scott Collins!
After everything he had done to her—the way he had treated her—she was still irresistibly, hopelessly, foolishly attracted to this man.

A commotion was starting near the door and Emily looked up to see Jack Logan and Cole Davis hollering to Scott, both men grinning ear to ear as they strode past the counter and greeted the town’s prodigal son with slaps on the back and high fives. Emily bit back a scowl. The kid who put Maple Woods on the map with that tie breaking touchdown senior year had graced them with his presence. A photograph of Scott’s victorious win still hung in the principal’s office.

She listened passively as the men caught up, making promises to meet up for beers one night, to talk about the good ol’ times. Her heart fell, wondering why the same hadn’t been offered to her. Hadn’t she been just as much of a mark on that time in his life as his teammates? Hadn’t she been more?

“Emily, we have a problem,” Lucy announced, coming out of the kitchen flushed and breathless.

Emily studied her in alarm. “What is it?” she asked, realizing that Scott had stopped talking with Jack and Cole long enough to eavesdrop.

“It’s the mayor. He has a last-minute meeting. He isn’t going to make it.” She gestured around the packed room of customers, all waiting for a chance to partake in the pie toss. “I hate to let them down. Our first week in business!”

Emily opened her mouth to put her boss at ease when Scott cut in. “What’s the problem, Lucy?” he asked.

Emily trained her eye on Lucy, refusing to feed into his concern. So he felt like being nice now. Felt like playing hero. Where was this chivalry twelve years ago? Where was his sense of responsibility then?

“It’s the pie toss,” Lucy explained. “We seem to be missing our target.”

“Let Scott do it!” Jack suggested, and Cole laughed heartily, slapping Scott soundly on the back.

The men grabbed his shoulders, cajoled him until his face was red and his smile was broad enough to reveal that elusive dimple she had almost managed to forget. He held up his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, okay,” he said, grinning. “But only as a favor for my sister.”

A cheer went up in the room at this and Lucy beamed, leading the group through the front door to where a chair had been set up on the sidewalk for all of Maple Woods to see. If this didn’t pique interest and generate business, Emily wasn’t sure what would. Already a few curious customers from Lucy’s Place had emerged from the open door, lifting their chins to take in the show across the street.

“Don’t go too easy on the whipped cream,” Jack advised her, and she slid him a smile. Oh, she didn’t intend to. “Hey,” he said, tipping his head. “Didn’t you and Scott used to date?”