He lifted the mug. “Go ahead. Have some.”
Her gaze moved from him to the mug. “What is it?”
He let out his first full breath since her meltdown back at the bakery. “It’s hot chocolate. It’s what I used to drink when I was little and had a hard time going to sleep. This is good, but it isn’t my secret recipe. I didn’t have time to make it tonight, but I promise to make it for you some other time.”
She reached for the cup. When her fingers brushed his, he noticed how cold she was. While she drank the hot chocolate, he grabbed a fluffy white throw blanket from the bottom of the bed. He draped it around her shoulders.
She set the cup on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard. He slipped off her shoes, setting them at the foot of the bed. When he glanced up at her, he noticed her swiping away the tears.
He sat on the edge of the bed. He hated this feeling of helplessness. It was a position he wasn’t used to being in. Pepper looked so fragile, as though a breeze could scatter the pieces that made her whole.
He swallowed hard. “Can I get you anything?”
Silence was the only answer.
There had to be something—anything that he could do to help her. He assured himself that it was nothing more than he would feel for a stranger in a similar situation.
“I was thinking—” her soft voice broke through his thoughts “—that I can’t remember what we talked about the last time...the last time we had coffee together at the bakery.”
He didn’t say a word for a moment. This was what she wanted to talk about? With her world crumbling around her, she wanted to
talk about them?
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to go strolling down memory lane. In fact, it was a very dangerous path laced with emotional bombs that could go off at any time. But at least she was communicating with him. He just wasn’t sure how to respond to her.
“I know we talked about a lot of things over the months,” she said. “Those early morning coffees were so cozy because no customers ventured in quite that early. It was my favorite time of the day. It was my chance to enjoy the bakery instead of worrying about producing all of the orders for the day. In those early morning hours before the sunrise, everything held such promise. And the bakery was filled with the most amazing aromas from the fresh baked goods.” She inhaled deeply as though in her mind she could still smell them instead of the lingering scent of smoke that seemed to follow them around.
He should probably say something here. But these were Pepper’s precious memories and he didn’t want to say anything to sully them. So he sat by quietly as she took them both back in time to that very special bakery.
She fidgeted with a loose thread on the throw blanket while averting her gaze. “I looked forward to your Wednesday morning visits. I’d tuck away in my mind all of the interesting things that had happened since we last met, just so I’d have something to talk to you about. Each time we parted, it was just until the next time. I never thought there wouldn’t be a next time. And now I’ve been trying to remember the last time we shared coffee at the bakery...” Her voice cracked.
His mind rewound back in time. He remembered everything about her, from the way she fidgeted with the silver necklace when she was nervous to the way her smiles would light up her emerald green eyes. He’d quickly learned that Pepper was someone he would never forget. No matter how much he tried.
“I was late that morning.” His gaze met hers, hoping he was doing the right thing. “You were wearing an orange, green and red polka-dotted apron. You called it your autumn apron. And you were all excited because you’d just perfected a new recipe.”
As he spoke, she relaxed against the pillows. He longed to reach out and smooth away the strawberry blond curls that rested against her pale cheek. But he didn’t want to frighten her off. She’d had enough turmoil for one evening. And so he kept his hands to himself while doing his best to comfort her with his words.
Still, his chest ached for her and all she’d lost that night. That bakery had been so much more than her job. It had been her life. And he ached for the very special friendship that he’d ruined with one night of passion. By letting go of his common sense and following his desires, he’d lost a dear friend. Pepper had been someone who was so easy to be around. She wasn’t pushy and she wasn’t needy. She was warm and understanding. Sometimes they’d just sit quietly, drinking their coffees and watching as the first morning rays filled the sky.
He clearly recalled the softness of her laughter. Oh, how he missed how her eyes would light up. And he missed how she would tease him about being a workaholic, which he’d often turn around on her, as she worked as many hours as him, if not more.
As her gaze prodded him for more details, he said, “I remember not having time to sit and talk that morning because I was running late. I’d been up most of the night before brainstorming an idea for the Pet Playground. I had a meeting to get to and you had a special order to bake. But we paused at the counter long enough to agree to go out and celebrate after I launched my chain of stores and you added a new line of cakes.”
Her eyes lit up as though the memories were starting to come back to her. “The new recipe was a carrot caramel cake. It was going to be a signature cake.”
He nodded. “It was moist and delicious. When I went to leave, you stepped out from behind the counter and handed me a box of pastries for the office. I caught a whiff of your perfume.” He inhaled deeply, as he had that day. “It was a soft floral fragrance.”
“Lavender.” She settled further down on the pillows. Her eyes looked heavy.
He thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “The scent works for you.”
He couldn’t help but wonder if he were to lean forward, if she would smell of lavender. Instead, he remained perfectly still.
“Those were good times.” Her voice grew softer as utter exhaustion hit her.
“They were the best.” He stood.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Though her voice was barely above a whisper, he could still hear the raw pain.