Cookies for Courting (8 page)

Marshall wrapped his arms around Pace and held on tight. “I don’t mean to burden you with my problems.”

“I don’t mind. We’re getting to know each other.”

“I think I’ve changed my mind about the mural.”

Pace stiffened in Marshall’s arms. “What do you mean?”

Marshall sighed. “It just struck me all of a sudden that a high-rise condo is no place for a child. The more I think about it, the more I know my gut feeling is right.”

“A gazillion kids in New York would disagree with you,” Pace said with a faint smile.

“Maybe, but Alice is used to living in a house. Maybe I can even get her a dog or a cat or something.”

“Wow, you’re going for the whole domestication thing, aren’t you?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want a mural, but I’m thinking we should move first. Alice needs a yard and more room to run around. I’m sorry to put this on you because we just signed a contract, but if you don’t mind waiting….”

“Hey.” Pace cupped Marshall’s face between his hands. “It’s not about me, I understand that. Whatever you think is best for Alice is fine. I hope you’re not moving too far away.”

“No, I’m thinking on the east side of town. There are some nice houses by the lake.”

“There are some mansions by the lake,” Pace corrected.

“I’ll have to see if Ilona can come with me. I know she has less connection with the city since her husband died, and they never had any children.”

Marshall pulled the smaller man close, tucking Pace’s head against his chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes to raise a happy child.”

Until that moment, Marshall hadn’t realized how much Alice meant to him. Not only was she the last bit of his sister remaining, but he cared for her a great deal. He loved her enough to move away from the man he was beginning to care for.

The house phone rang. Marshall answered it and assured security that Sandy was allowed upstairs before hanging up.

“I guess this is all unnecessary now,” Pace said. “I don’t need the paint after all.”

“Hey, I still want to see you.” Marshall felt his relationship slipping through his fingers.

“Why?”

“I like you.” Maybe like wasn’t the right word, obsessed would’ve matched much better. However, he wasn’t quite ready for Pace to know about his fixation.

Pace shook his head. “You’re going to be moving away. I know the lake area isn’t super far away, but you wouldn’t be only a bus ride away anymore.”

“I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Marshall would’ve said more, but the knocking on the door
distracted him.

“I’ll get it,” Pace said. “I’m going to leave with Sandy. When you decide what you want, you let me know. Alice can keep the painting.”

Pace kissed Marshall on the cheek, then walked away. The empty spot in Marshall’s heart only increased at the sound of the door closing. “I guess I’ll be eating lasagna alone.”

P
ACE
SPENT
the next few days moping around his apartment. Even his art didn’t pull him out of his depression. Just when he thought he’d met the perfect guy, outside forces took him away. He couldn’t even blame Marshall. A little girl’s happiness did come first. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a selfish fit, though. Maybe he should’ve tried to make it work. He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself that things went south. Marshall had been willing to try.

“Ahhhh,” he screamed.

The sound of crickets chirping pulled him from his funk. He scrounged around, trying to figure out where he’d put his phone. Finally, he found it beneath some art magazines. “Gotcha.”

The display showed Marshall’s name. He quickly connected. “Hello?”

“Pace, I hate to call you, but I had no one else.”

“What happened?” The panic in Marshall’s voice had him sitting up straight. He wasn’t a man who worried easily.

“Ilona is out sick today. It’s Joyce’s day off, and I have to go to meeting. I hate to ask, but could you come keep Alice company? I could call a temp service, but I don’t like to leave her with strangers.”

“No problem. I don’t have any plans today.” Given his art was rejecting him, maybe an afternoon with a little girl would rejuvenate his creativity. Besides, he might not be in the relationship of his dreams, but he could help a guy in trouble.

“I could pay you for your time.”

“Don’t even think about it. This is a favor between friends.” As much as he wished they could be more, Marshall had too much going on right now for a relationship.

“I’ll owe you one.”

“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”

P
ACE
DIDN
’
T
know why he’d agreed to watch Alice. He wasn’t experienced at watching kids. However, he couldn’t leave Marshall in a bind. Alice needed someone to watch her, and even if he and Marshall couldn’t be romantically involved, they were still friends.

When he got to the condo, Alice was all smiles and happy to see him.

“Pace!”

“Hey, Alice, how are you doing?”

“Good. I can’t wait until we get our new house.”

Pace swallowed the lump in his throat. He pasted a smile on his lips. “What did you want to do while your uncle is at work?”

“Make cookies.” There was no hesitation in her voice. She seemed quite determined.

“I’m not much of a baker,” he warned.

“That’s okay. Ilona has her recipe book here. I help her with it all the time.”

“Well, as long as you’re patient with me, I don’t see any problem with cooking.”

“Yay!” Alice hopped up and down with excitement.

Pace followed her to the kitchen and picked up the book she pointed out. The pages were yellowed from age and the spine was worn, but Pace could just make out the title.
Mystical Meals and Dangerous Desserts
by Granny B
.

“Kind of a strange title,” Pace said, looking at Alice.

Alice nodded. “But it has amazing recipes. The cookie recipe is in there.”

Pace flipped through the pages. It had the look of a hand-bound volume. This was no mass marketplace publisher. There wasn’t even a copyright page. Strange.

“Do you know where she got this?”

“It belonged to her husband. That’s what she said.” Alice appeared to have no interest in the book’s origins. “Just look at the titles; so strange.”

Pace did what Alice bid. Flipping through the pages, he had a laugh at some of the names of the recipes. Beet porridge for clarity? Meatloaf for finding what was lost along the way? A whole section on food for courting?

“What’s that word?” Alice said, pointing. She’d been looking over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages.

“Courting? It means sort of like dating, trying to win someone’s heart or get someone interested in you. It’s sort of an old-fashioned word. No one really uses it anymore.”

“I think the cookies are under here.”

There were a couple cookie recipes, an easy shortbread, a dark molasses cookie with a few obscure notes below, and an oatmeal cookie. Beneath the recipe for Oatmeal Cookies to Connect Hearts someone had scrawled in pencil, “Warning: may cause permanent relationships.”

“Weird. What do you think they mean by that?” Pace asked Alice.

She shrugged. “How would I know? I’m eight.”

“Good point. Does this look like the recipe?”

“That’s the one she used.”

“Okay, then, let’s get started. My mother always gathered all the ingredients first. Is that how Ilona does it?”

Alice shook her head. “She turns on the oven first.”

“Right. Of course she does.” After checking the temperature needed, Pace turned on the oven. “Now what?”

“She put butter on the cookie sheets. In there.”

Pace opened the cabinet Alice had pointed to and pulled out two cookie sheets. “She doesn’t use spray?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then.” Pace went to the fridge and pulled out the butter. Ilona’s cookies had been awesome; if this was how she did it, Pace would follow it to the letter. After buttering the cookie sheets, he turned to Alice again.

“Now you get out the big bowl.” She pointed to another cabinet.

Pace retrieved the large blue ceramic bowl from the top shelf. He didn’t know how Ilona even reached it with her shorter stature.

“Ilona has to use the stool,” Alice said, as if reading his mind.

“Does she? I’m a little taller.” Truthfully, he wasn’t that much taller than Ilona, but he had long arms.

The rest of the process went pretty quickly. Ilona had an organized kitchen, and the ingredients were quickly pulled together. Once the mixture was ready, Pace reached for a spoon to scoop out the dough.

“You have to use the special scoop,” Alice insisted.

“The special scoop?” How was it a child could make him feel like such an idiot?

“It’s in the top drawer.”

“Okay.” Not certain what he was looking for, Pace pulled open the top drawer. Someone, probably the housekeeper, had put an organizer inside, and a small dough scoop sat in the slot on the left. He pulled it out and waved it in the air. “Is this it?”

“Yes.”

Taking turns, they quickly filled out the cookie sheets with little scoops of dough. “How long does it say to cook them?”

Alice scanned the sheet. “Until it smells like love.”

Pace froze in the process of putting the pan in the oven. “What?”

“That’s what it says.”

Pace slipped the cookie sheets into the oven, then closed the oven door. He walked over to check out the cookbook. He read right where Alice pointed her tiny finger. “Huh.”

“I told you so.” Alice smirked.

“Yes, you did. So how long do you think love takes? Ten to fifteen minutes?”

“I don’t know. Ilona said I won’t fall in love for years.”

Pace laughed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t take that long to make cookies.”

They talked while they waited, and Alice showed Pace some apps on her iPad to while away the time. When the kitchen started to smell like cooked oatmeal goodness, Pace opened the oven door.

“They look done to me.”

Alice looked at her iPad. “Twelve minutes.”

“Good to know.” He turned off the oven and set the cookies on top to cool. A bit of stray cookie tempted him to pop it in his mouth.

Fuck that burns.

“We should give them some time so we don’t burn our mouths,” Pace said when he could talk again.

“What do you want to do now?” Alice asked.

That was a very good question. “How about we go to the park? I know of a good one a few blocks away.” He’d passed the park when heading to his bus the other day.

“Do you think Uncle will mind?”

“No.” Pace couldn’t think of a single reason why a little girl couldn’t go to a park. Especially a park in a ritzy area; it wasn’t like he was taking Alice to the wrong part of town.

“Okay. Let me go get my shoes.”

Alice rarely wore shoes as far as Pace could tell. He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t too fond of them himself.

The trip to the park went well. Alice even ran into a couple of kids she knew. It wasn’t until they entered the condo that Pace suspected he’d made a mistake.

“Where have you been?” Marshall asked, his tone colder than an arctic wind.

“We went to the park,” Pace said.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Pace patted his pockets, then went to the kitchen. His cell phone sat on the counter. “I must’ve left it here.”

“What if something had happened to Alice? What would you have done then?”

“I’m sure one of the women at the park had cell phones.” Since most of them were either watching the screens or yapping into the receiver, Pace could pretty much guarantee it.

“You need to be careful, someone could’ve snatched her!”

Pace’s mouth dropped open. “I was two feet from her the entire time.” Anger burned through him. “I wasn’t being irresponsible. I was just taking a kid to the damn park. People do it all the time with a lot less drama at the end.”

Cold fury burned in Marshall’s eyes. “I guess I was wrong to expect you to be able to watch a child.”

Pace sucked in a breath as pain stabbed him in the chest like an iron shard. He shoved his phone into his pocket. “And I was wrong in thinking we might have a future. Good luck with your new house.”

Not trusting himself to say anything more, Pace marched out of the kitchen, letting the door slam behind him. Maybe it was childish, but Marshall didn’t seem to expect any better.

M
ARSHALL
TAPPED
his pen against the desk as he tried to concentrate on his reports. Alice wasn’t talking to him, and he couldn’t get the hurt expression on Pace’s face out of his mind.

So maybe he’d made a mistake. He’d let his fear of Alice being injured cause him to say things he couldn’t take back. He tried calling Pace, but his calls always went directly to voice mail. At this point, he wondered if they were being blocked.

After Alice had run into her room crying, Marshall had reevaluated his own behavior. Fear had driven him to speak without thinking. And thoughtless words were hard to retrieve.

A knock at the door pulled Marshall from his thoughts. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but since security didn’t call, it must be someone who had clearance.

He heard Alice talking with someone. Joyce must’ve stopped over. He stood up to go see what his assistant wanted when a scream tore through the condo.

“Alice!” Marshall ran to the living room where he’d last heard Alice’s voice. The condo door stood open.

What the fuck!?

Racing through the hallway, he reached the elevator just as the doors closed. He banged on the metal. Alice had been abducted.

He hurried back to his condo and snatched up the house phone to call down to security. It took him a moment to realize there was no dial tone.