I turned my head from him, let my hair act as a curtain to hide my face. I didn’t want him to see that I struggled with the fact that I was leaving Dougie for this very reason. “My mom always taught me that you fight, bleed, and remain strong enough to conquer whatever you’re afraid of or it will conquer you.”
“I know.” He dropped his hand from my elbow and I felt the loss immediately, but then he pulled me close by my waist and didn’t let me go. “I’ll have to show you that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is walk away, love. It’s not always your job to be the best or make something perfect. And once you figure that out, you’ll be even more wonderful than we all think you are now, which is already pretty damn close to flawless, woman.”
What he said dug down deep into my bones and burrowed there, making a home in me, making me want to build myself a better foundation than before to prove those words belonged where they’d set up shop. “I appreciate you, Jay.”
“I love your little, strong-as-hell ass too, Meek,” he mumbled into my hair. As we walked to Delilah’s, I laid my head on his shoulder, finally feeling like Jay and I were back to our old rapport. This was the friendship I couldn’t live without, the man I couldn’t live without, the relationship that would withstand basically anything.
I hoped I would find that in my next boyfriend, but I was happy to at least have found it in a friend.
Ray jogged over to us just as we were about to walk into Delilah’s. “Here’s your vodka soda.”
“Thank you.” I took it from his hands. “No one is judging me for drinking this early, right?”
“Of course not. They’d judge you if you turned down a drink from me in this town.” He winked. “Are you helping Lorraine bake all those?”
Jay held up the bag of extra pie crusts. “We’ll be there all night.”
“I’ll bring more drinks over later,” Ray announced loud enough for Lorraine to hear as she pushed the glass swinging door open for us. He smiled brightly at her and she returned it with a sultry look. I swear the woman had every older man in the town wrapped around her finger.
She waved us in. “Delilah already has the first batch in the oven and is working on mixing spices into the cinnamon. Jay, we need you to fill the crusts and pass them to me. I’ll work on the pie top and caramel topping.”
The woman buzzed about the industrial kitchen as if it was hers. Delilah let her own it too. They worked well together, moving around one another like they’d done it for years. “How long have you all made these pies?” I asked.
“Delilah’s mom used to do it with me here when she first opened the shop. How old were you, Delilah?”
“I think five? My mom thought this town could use a bakery and I was her pride and joy. So I got the name.” She smiled fondly to herself as she stirred some nutmeg into a large metal bowl. “Somewhat fitting since I inherited the shop when she passed.”
Lorraine didn’t let us dwell. “Right. So I told Delilah she better let me make my pies here. We’ve expanded a few times with our earnings from the pies and her treats in shops throughout the state. The festival is the most fun, though. We have to make enough to feed an army.”
On that note, we worked hard for hours. Lorraine had me stir brown sugar in three sauce pans until it melted. A dash of cacao was added right before the concoction changed color. Then I was to watch it brown as I lowered the temperature. At that point, I called Lorraine who would dash over and grab it right as it turned a golden color every time.
It was masterful and almost scientific how she worked so precisely. Every single one came out smelling as fantastic as the one before it.
And Jay kept us upbeat while we worked, sliding in next to me every now and then to bother me. He’d ask me a question like, “What do you think I should wear tonight?” or “Do you think Bob is still hung up on that secretary at work?” or “Remember the time we were listening to that song on the way to the beach? What was that song?”
I responded with one-word answers. I could barely concentrate.
He kept on. “Do you really think the scene where I dive into that lake needs to be shot from under the water? It might be better from behind me.”
Normally, I was extremely good at answering questions like that. I could multitask with the best of them. I prided myself on it.
But the caramel was finicky, so finicky that I’d burned one batch when he’d taken my focus from it ten minutes earlier. “I don’t know, Jay,” I huffed.
“How can you not, woman? You study every angle when you read it.” He was leaning against the counter, his hip brushing mine. And just when I thought I would be okay if we were only friends, if he went on his date with Sandy, he dipped his finger in some of the cooled caramel that had been set aside and wrapped his mouth around it to lick it off.
I should have scolded him but I was distracted. My eyes were laser focused on one thing and it was him being so close with his soft, pillowy lips sucking sweet-as-heaven caramel off his calloused finger.
“Meek,” he whispered.
I hummed, still in a trance.
He turned toward the saucepans and put his hand on the small of my back as he took the spoon from my hand. He whispered in my ear, “You keep letting your mind go where it’s going, you’re going to burn the caramel again.”
I jerked back from him and glared. His lips were pursed in an attempt to hold back a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I swiped back the spoon. “The caramel’s fine.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged. “So, what do you think?”
“About what?” I practically yelled. He was distracting me on purpose, I knew he was. I stirred the caramel faster, trying to defuse my frustration at not being immune to him. “Can you please back up?”