Saving Scott (Kobo) (7 page)

“Wait. I
meant to call you before. Would you like some coffee? I need to ask you
something.”

She checked
the time. “In an hour? I’m swamped at the moment. Or, you can ask me here.”

“Sure.” He
shifted his weight and readjusted the books in his arm. “There’s some sort of
welcome back party for one of the detectives—”

“Randy
Detweiler,” Ashley interrupted. “We’ve met. Sarah has the shop next door to
mine.”

“They want
to know if you’ll supply the dessert. Your cookies made quite an impression.
They’ll pay you, of course.”

“Oh, there’s
no need to pay me. I’m still working on recipes for my menu, so they’d actually
be helping me out. Plus, I chalk it up to my advertising budget.”

He shifted
his weight again. Was that a grimace? She remembered the way he’d limped when
he’d left her apartment. Was he in pain? She grabbed a random handful of
cookbooks. “Maybe a cup of coffee would be nice. Sadie’s isn’t far. Or we could
drive. I have my car. Or I can meet you there.”

His smile
triggered an unexpected flutter in her belly.

He tapped
the books in his arm. “I have to pay for these first. We can walk.”

What was she
doing? She didn’t have time for a leisurely cup of coffee.

At Sadie’s,
Scott held a chair for Ashley. She lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head. He
wondered what the hell he was doing, but he’d been thinking about her all
afternoon. Probably nothing more than his body hitting another level of
healing. Moving up from distant admiration to subtle stirrings.

Once she was
seated, he gritted his teeth and lowered himself into a chair. Slowly. When it
came to the physical aches and pains, he hadn’t hit a higher level of healing
yet.

He couldn’t
help but notice the concern in Ashley’s eyes. Damn, he’d seen that same look
from her at the bookstore. That’s why she’d accepted his invitation. Out of
pity. His stomach tightened.

When their
eyes met, she dropped her gaze and picked up her napkin. She gave it a gentle
flap and placed it in her lap. Keeping her head down, she said, “You don’t have
to talk about it, but there’s no need to pretend you’re not hurting. I
certainly won’t think less of you for admitting you feel pain.”

He did his
best to shrug it off. “I’ve found that screaming in public usually has
unwelcome consequences.”

Her eyes
popped. “Good grief, if it’s painful enough to scream, why are you out and
working? Shouldn’t you be—I don’t know—in a hospital or something?”

He held up
his good hand and tried for a grin. “Hey, just kidding. I haven’t screamed in
months.”

She eyed him
skeptically, as if she wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“Seriously,”
he went on. “I was in an accident a while back, that’s all. I’m fine, but it’s
taking a while for things to come together.” He picked up a menu. “You want
anything besides coffee?”

She shook
her head. “Coffee’s plenty. I have to get over to Elaine’s studio and see if
she’ll do a rush job on discount coupons. Mr. Farrabee said he’d give them out
to people who bought books, and I thought some of the other merchants might,
too. You know, like ‘Good for a dollar off any purchase of five dollars or
more.’ You think that’s reasonable? Or should I offer a free cookie?”

He thought
about it, trying to ignore the fact that Ashley’d shoved her own agenda aside
to coddle him. Having coffee was a way to get him off his feet. He frowned.

“What?” she
said. “You don’t like the idea? I thought it would get people into the bakery.”

“No, no. It’s
good.” He focused on her question. “How much would a typical cookie cost? Would
it be more sensible to do a buy one, get one free deal?”

“That’s a
good point, but I’m trying to help The Book Worm, too. If I made sure the free
ones came from a limited selection—not too limited, but not the really decadent
ones—I think it would be a legitimate loss leader.”

After the
waitress had taken their coffee orders, Ashley drummed her fingertips on the
table. “I can have the coupons expire in a month. You know, a special
introductory offer. Limited time only.”

He leaned
forward. “Ashley, if these people have any taste buds at all, one cookie and
they’ll be back for more. Often. Trust me. I saw the way they disappeared at
the station.”

She beamed. “That’s
right. You wanted desserts for your shindig. But I really can’t take money. I’m
still experimenting.”

Damn, he
liked that smile. “Departmental policy. No gifts.”

“What? You
think my cookies could be construed as bribes?”

“To make
sure there are no questions of impropriety, they have to draw the line. So no
freebies for cops.” At least he assumed Pine Hills worked the same way as
County. Of course, there was the secondary issue, which was she deserved to be
paid. All that chocolate and butter and whatever else went into her cookies
wasn’t free.

Or maybe
you like seeing her smile.

“All right.
If it’s a rule.” Her fingers drummed again. Probably keeping time with what was
whirling in her brain. She gave him an impish grin. “Should I make donuts?”

He laughed. “You
know where that myth came from?”

She shook
her head.

“Years ago,
a coffee shop offered free coffee and donuts to cops on the night shift. The
police presence helped keep the neighborhood safe.”

“Free?”

“Back then,
yes.”

“But no
more. I get it. What do you think I should bake. Those spicy cookies? Medium
heat, though.”

“I’m sure
whatever you decide will be fine. Make sure you’ve got some of those flyers.”

“And
discount coupons? I can give those out, can’t I?”

“I’ll run it
by the chief, to be sure.”

The waitress
returned, but Ashley waved off a refill. She reached for her purse. “I really
have to be going if I have any chance that Elaine will run off these coupons
tonight. She didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet when I asked for a rush job
on the flyers. And I need to check on the Klutz Brigade, and see if any of my
kitchen equipment showed up.” She pulled out her wallet.

“This is on
me,” he said.

“Hmm. I’m
not sure I can accept it. You might be bribing me to bake you more cookies.”

“I’ll come
into your shop and buy my cookies like everyone else. This is me being a
friendly neighbor.”

“All right,
but next time, it’ll be on me.”

Next time.
Why did that warm him more than the coffee? He shifted in his seat. Some of
those stirrings were getting a little more than subtle. “It’s a deal. Can I
give you a lift to your printer?” He dropped some bills on the table.

“I don’t
need a lift. Elaine’s is across the street, about a block down. No point in
driving.”

“May I walk
with you, Miss Eagan?”

She eyed his
leg. “You sure? It’s broad daylight. I don’t really need an escort.”

“Doc said
walking’s good for me. Sitting all day tightens things up.”

“In that
case, I’ll be happy to have your company.”

And she
smiled again, which tightened another part of him.

When Ashley
pushed open the door of a photography studio, Scott paused. “I thought we were
going to a printer.”

“We are.”
She pointed to a small sign in the window. “Elaine does simple print jobs. I
don’t think she likes to make a big deal of it. I got the feeling she thinks it
diminishes her standing as a photographer.”

“In this
economy, you do what it takes.” He held the door for Ashley.

“Chairs,
doors, buying me coffee, escorting me down the street. Did you come to Pine
Hills via a time machine?”

“Can’t help
it. My mama was brought up in Arkansas. She taught me and my brothers to
respect women. It’s ingrained. Not sure I can stop.”

“Some women
might be offended, you know. That you think they’re weak.”

“That’s
their problem. Nothing wrong with being polite.”

Inside,
Scott admired the photographs on the walls while Ashley spoke with whom he
assumed was Elaine. The woman seemed to be half-listening to Ashley, but her
eyes kept darting his way. At first he thought she was afraid he might be
harming her pictures, so he clasped his hands behind his back. When his weak arm
suggested another position would be more prudent, he shoved both hands into his
pockets. She smiled his way, but it wasn’t one of those “I hope you’ll buy
something” looks. Damn, it was the look he hadn’t seen since his days in
Traffic. The
Please don’t give me a ticket and I’ll make it worth your while
look. And it wasn’t cash they’d been offering.

He gave her
his best cop polite-but-stern smile in return.

Before
things went any further, the door opened and a woman strode in. She paused
before reaching the counter, then frowned and folded her arms across her chest.

Elaine
looked up. “Be right with you, Felicity.”

Ashley
turned and gave the woman a friendly smile. “Hi. We’re almost done.” Returning
her attention to Elaine, she tapped the piece of paper they’d been writing on. “I
think the ‘Free Cookie’ should be bold and centered below the shop name.
Otherwise, it’s perfect. I really appreciate the rush. I’ll be here tomorrow at
ten to pick them up.”

The other
woman stormed to the counter and snatched the paper. “Free cookies?” She
glowered at Ashley. “What are you trying to do? Put me out of business? I can’t
compete with free.”

Ashley’s
fists clenched at her side, but her expression didn’t change. Still, he could
see her trembling. He stepped toward the women, afraid things might escalate
into more than a verbal contest.

Ashley took
an audible breath. “Felicity, this is a short-term offer. And it’s
one
cookie for people who make purchases at the Book Worm. You run a tea shop. I
sell baked goods and coffee. We’re hardly in competition here. I think the town
can handle both of us.”

“We’ll see
about that. This is far from over.” Felicity threw the paper on the counter and
addressed Elaine. “If you’re helping this … this … newcomer, I’m sure I can
find someone else who’ll be happy to have my business.” She whirled and
barreled toward the door.

***

Ashley felt
Scott’s hand on her back. She took several deep breaths. “What just happened?”

“Does
she—Felicity?—have a history of going ballistic?” Scott asked.

Elaine
shrugged, keeping her eyes on the papers in front of her. “She has a temper,
but it’s more than that, I think. I’m not one to talk out of turn, but she owes
me money, and I had to draw the line at handling any more of her business until
she pays. I think she’s blaming everyone but herself for her problems.”

“How long
has this been going on?” Scott asked.

“Six months,
give or take,” Elaine said. “At least that’s when her credit ran out with me.”

“That’s
before I got here,” Ashley said. Her mind whirled like the beaters of her
mixer. She looked at Scott, then Elaine, and found a smile. “I really have to
be going, but again—thanks for another rush job.”

“I have your
information on file,” Elaine said. “I’ve got an anniversary party to shoot
tonight, but I should be able to run these before I leave.”

Ashley
couldn’t help but notice that although Elaine was addressing her, the woman’s
attention was focused on Scott, who seemed oblivious to the obvious flirtation.
His hand hadn’t left the small of her back. “Thanks again.”

As she
walked toward her bakery, she glanced around, wondering if Felicity was waiting
in a doorway, ready to pounce. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding. Keeping her
voice low, she asked Scott, “Do you think Felicity could have anything to do
with the sabotage to my place? According to Elaine, she was having business
problems before I got here, but maybe I sent her over the edge.”

“Blaming
others for your own problems, especially if they’re due to your own ineptitude,
isn’t unusual.”

“I don’t
suppose you could ask your cop friends to check her out?” He tugged her arm,
and she realized her anxiety had her zipping down the sidewalk. She slowed her
pace. “Never mind. It’s a total imposition and a stupid idea anyway. I can’t
see a way she could have orchestrated all the foul-ups. They were all
unrelated. She’d have had to have pulled strings with a lot of subcontractors.
Carl—the contractor—swears they were all accidents or the normal snafus that go
with the territory. He’s got a good reputation. He’s even been working nights
to make sure he’s done on time.”

“Which he’d
do rather than tell you he was taking a part in sabotage, as you put it.”

She stopped
dead. Lifted her gaze to his. “You think there’s something to it? But what
about the worker who had to go to the hospital? Surely nobody planned that.”

“What
happened?”

“A worker
was setting a toilet and dropped it. I don’t know exactly what happened, or
how, but I can’t believe someone coerced him into injuring himself.”

He shrugged,
then rubbed his shoulder. Without thinking, she took the bag of books from him.
He didn’t object. Her brain caught up. He’d said he was in an accident. Didn’t
say what parts of him got hurt. Might have been more than his leg. She almost
asked, but what was the point? He’d blow it off. Men. Always having to be
invincible.

They’d
reached her shop. Goosebumps rolled over her skin when she saw her name and
logo on the window. She wondered if she’d ever take it for granted. Inside, she
saw Willie Duncan staining the baseboards. A table saw whined. No screams, no
swearing. She fished out her keys. “You want to come in? I’ll give you the
nickel tour.”

“I’d love
it.”

Although she
knew she’d love to show anyone around, including total strangers dragged off
the street, showing her bakery to Scott filled her with more warmth than could
be attributed to pride alone. As she described her vision for the finished
project, she couldn’t help but watch the workers. Things seemed to be moving
smoothly. One man called out measurements to the man on the table saw, then
installed the appropriately cut pieces, followed by Willie with his stain.