The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story) (7 page)

Missy grabbed my arm, and led me to the back door. She whispered loud enough for Lil and CeeCee to hear, “It was their idea.” Prompting them to hiss back all kinds of blame levelled at Missy, who waved them off and tried to stop the giggles that escaped her. “Stop it, you two,” she hissed. “Now let’s do this just how we planned it.”

“Excuse me, am I invisible here?” I whispered. “Let’s just try and pretend we’re normal, just for one night.”

Lil stopped, and doubled over laughing. “Wait, wait,” she said between breaths.

Missy said, “You heard Sarah. Pretend we’re normal, and this is any other night. Think of your taxes or something, if that helps.”

It was CeeCee’s turn to start hawing. “I’m too old for this carry-on,” she said, laughing.

There was no way the guys outside couldn’t hear us. We were loud enough to wake the dead.

“Right,” Missy said, pulling down the hem of her saffron-colored miniskirt. “It’s go time.”

I walked out into the cool spring night, smiling because of my friends and their good intentions — until I locked eyes with the man mountain that was aptly named Ridge. Oh, good God, he was leaning against the bannister with one arm up high holding the capping on the porch, and, sweet Jesus, his fitted cotton shirt lifted with his stretch, exposing the man crease. Yes, it was everything I expected it to be. I was caught short, not wanting to stare at it but unable to drag my gaze away.

“Oops, sorry,” Lil said, pushing me square in the back. With one quick wobble on my heels, I went flying. With a silent cry of yes-s-s, I fell into the very man crease I vowed not to stare at. My cheek was pressed firmly against said crease, my heart stopped, and I moaned softly, before arguing with myself, Do not lick the man crease — you
do not
need to taste it.

But…

Before I could decide if
accidentally
licking him would be obvious, Ridge pulled me into his arms and steadied me.

I turned to glare at Lil, all the while feeling slightly electrified being so close to Ridge. And the crease. I was leaning on him as a surfer would his board. And because it was an accident, I didn’t hurry away. After all, I was still deciding if I’d been hurt in the fall.

Lil smiled, and shrugged. “Sorry, Sarah. Must have been those heels of yours. The deck is a little uneven.”

The girls giggled into their hands, and it became clear just exactly what they’d acted out.

“Are you OK?” Ridge asked, staring deeply into my eyes.

Please don’t say something inane. “Fine. Just dandy.” Dandy? Where was I getting this vocabulary from? I extracted myself from his clutches, albeit slowly, and smoothed down my hair.
Do not cough. Do not whistle.

“You look great,” he said, tilting his head, giving me the hot-guy appraisal. He’d certainly mastered the book-boyfriend mannerisms.

I blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice, hoping instead I just looked as if I had a healthy glow or something. “So,” I said, “what brings you back to Ashford? Quite a hike for you.” Smooth, Sarah.

Lil ambled over and handed us each a glass of wine. I prayed to the wine gods to make their magic work a little quicker, so I’d feel more comfortable in Ridge’s hulking presence.

“You, Sarah.
You
bring me back here.”

Holy moly! Was this a dream? I chugged back a great gulp of wine and had to look away when it threatened to come out of my nose. Swallowing the mouthful finally, I said, “I don’t want to be in your article, remember?”

Without me realizing it, the others had gone inside leaving only Ridge and me on the deck. Oh, they were cunning with their methods.

“The article is all but done, Sarah. I’ll finish it off in the next few weeks, and it’ll be published in July some time.”

Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t just here for the article. Call me cynical, but for some reason I couldn’t quite shake the fact Ridge was a reporter, and one who’d stumbled upon Ashford and found it newsworthy. It didn’t add up, but maybe I was reading too much into it.

He continued: “So rest assured I’m not here to grill you.”

“I see.” Why did words fail me in times of need?

“Can I ask you on a proper date, Sarah? A walk through the woods, and a picnic tomorrow?”

A date! If I stopped second-guessing everything, I had to admit, the attraction between us seemed to sizzle, and, as whimsical and reserved as I might come across, even I couldn’t deny there was something magical in the air. The way his hands hovered, when he stared into my eyes, as if he wanted to hold me. It was just that Ridge was all practised charm, and too smooth. How did I know that he didn’t treat all women this very same way?

I knew my voice would come out like a choked sob in my nervousness, so I took some time pretending to consider the offer, by scratching my chin, and looking, I hoped, contemplative. Or perhaps like a science professor. That was attractive, right?

Stalling for time, I said, “You’re staying in Ashford tonight?”

He nodded. “At that little B and B just outside of town. Pretty picket fences, lots of lace, and floral-covered everything, you know the one?”

I laughed, imagining Ridge ensconced at Begonia Bed and Breakfast. To put it politely, the B and B was stuck in a time warp. Rose, the owner, was everything you could imagine her to be: seventy, smiley, a really bad cook, and immensely loveable. “Yes, cute place.”

“So?” he pushed, arching his eyebrows like a man-model.
Do not start picturing him in Y-fronts.
White Y-fronts, with one finger resting behind the fabric, with the sun behind him in an empty room with wood floors…

I did the I’ve-just-run-out-of-the-sea shake to push the semi-naked vision away. “I’ll think about it.” I managed to sound casual, though my heat was racing, and my hands shaking. It had been years since I dated, except for the silent dinner with Billie; there had been no one who had interested me. Ashford wasn’t exactly teeming with men. As dramatic as it sounded, I just felt like a fool when it came to love; when you were so far gone with someone, and you couldn’t switch it off like a tap, then how could you protect yourself? It was easier to live vicariously through books.

“OK, I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

I took a deep breath in, turning away in case my nostrils flared like a dragon. I could do this. One date. Just to prove he wasn’t the right guy for me. One date.

He ran a finger along my arm, and I was grateful my face was hidden so he didn’t see my eyes widen. “Let’s go inside. I think they’re waiting.”

The clatter of cutlery wove its way to us. “I’m starving,” I said. Ridge clasped my hand as if we were already a couple and pulled me through the doorway.

***

CeeCee pointed to a chair. “That’s your seat, Sarah.” She smirked at me as I sat next to Ridge’s heavenly scented presence.

“You two lovebirds need any help?” CeeCee boomed, pulling me back to the present. For a second I thought she meant Ridge and me and I went to speak, catching myself just in time.

Damon and Lil buzzed around, filling platters with delectable morsels they conjured up as though it were a simple thing, and not food that had taken most of the day to prepare.

“These,” said Lil, carefully placing a ceramic dish on the dining-room table, “are baby sweet peppers, stuffed with a mix of pancetta, and ricotta and parmesan, and a few secret ingredients for some wow factor, so go on and try them and tell me what you think.”

The baby peppers were the color of traffic lights: red, orange and green. The vibrancy of them with the oozy goodness inside had me reaching for the plate before anyone else. I knew some girls couldn’t eat in front of men when they were feeling somewhat gooey, but I wasn’t like that. Especially when it was Lil’s food.

Damon said, “If they get your vote they’ll be on the new catering menu, along with some other recipes you’ll try tonight.”

Between mouthfuls, I said, “They get my vote!”

One thing was certain: there wasn’t a lot of chatter while we ate. Lil and Damon were harmonious in the kitchen; they fluttered around each other, stopping every now and then for a brief kiss, before laughing their way through the preparation of the next dish. As a couple they were certainly something to aspire to.

I tried hard not to notice Ridge’s leg directly next to mine. I was conscious of not touching it with my own leg, which had me sitting stiffly, hyper-aware of his proximity. So what if our legs touched — would it be that bad? I tried to look serene as I slowly allowed my body to relax. If in my relaxed state my leg touched his, so be it.

“Are you OK?” CeeCee asked, frowning at me.

I tensed up, and become toy-soldier-like again.
Do not cough.
“Yes, Cee, why do you ask?”

“Oh, it were nothin’ really, you just looked—”

Missy interrupted, “I think she’s just contemplating the meditative effect of the food, right?”

I threw her a grateful glance. Maybe I wasn’t being as subtle as I thought. OK, no leg touching. Unless he touched me first.

“So,” CeeCee said, leaning forward. “What brought you to Ashford originally, Ridge?”

And here it went: let the interrogation begin. I sank back in my chair, and wondered if my friend’s questions would make him squirm. After all, he had to pass the friend test if I was even going to think about a date with him.

“Well,” he said, “somehow I stumbled onto the chocolate festival Facebook page, and thought that sounded like a nice event to attend. My job allows me to travel for a story, so I figured I’d see what the town had to offer, and I’m mighty glad I did. I found something unique here, something special, that I wasn’t even looking for. Serendipity — it’s a wonderful thing.” He turned and stared into my eyes. Oh, boy. I coughed. Twice.

***

As the evening progressed we got a little rowdier after each course. The wine was flowing, and the food plentiful. Ridge charmed everyone with stories of his travels, and all the excitement he’d squished into his thirty-five years. He’d sure seen a lot of the world, and not just the pretty sunny things, either. He’d travelled to Third World countries, and helped in orphanages. Flown to places after natural disasters and got his hands dirty trying to assist with rebuilding small communities. Maybe Ridge was deeper and more compassionate than I’d given him credit for. CeeCee and Missy goggle-eyed him as if he were Prince Charming; it didn’t take a genius to work out he’d won them over.

Lil ambled over with the last dish of the night. The third dessert. I groaned as I watched her set down miniature ice creams.

“These are creamy margarita popsicles with a circle of salted lime on top.”

“I’m fit to burst,” Missy said, and handed her popsicle to her husband, Tommy, who’d arrived at the dinner party late after being held up at the dairy he worked at.

“More for me,” he said. “I got a bit of catching up to do.”

Missy had dodged wine all night, without anyone noticing, a miracle in our small group, and had now managed to refuse the alcohol-soaked ice cream. Usually CeeCee would sniff out a secret within minutes with her so-called second sight. There was nothing like a newcomer to distract everyone.

As full as I was, the ice cream before me looked so creamy, and fresh with the verdant lime, there was no way I wasn’t going to consume it in three bites. I made the mistake of glancing at Ridge. And there he was. Holding onto the popsicle and licking it. With his tongue. His perfectly pink tongue. Until that moment I had never realized how a tongue could be so…sexy. Heat flooded me as I watched him enjoy the popsicle. The thoughts that swam through my mind were somewhat risqué, for me.

“Sarah?” Missy said.

My head felt leaden as I dragged my gaze to Missy. “Mmm?”

She lifted a hand to her jaw and mimed closing her mouth. Oh right. My jaw had dropped open somewhat dramatically. I took a deep breath and picked up my popsicle. Focus on the food. Just the food. The flavors were fresh as a summer’s day, but all I could think was…Ridge. Ridge and that no-good tongue of his.

Tingling, I felt Ridge peering at me. Did he see me staring at him like a fool?

“You have a little bit…” he leaned close “…here.” He traced my bottom lip with the tip of his finger. And then promptly put it in his mouth. “Tasty,” he whispered, winking.

Speechless, I dabbed at my mouth with a napkin. And then dropped my hands to my lap. Everyone else was seemingly preoccupied talking about their weekend plans, but I was lost in a bubble. The only thing I could hear or see was Ridge; everything else felt like white noise.

He clasped my hand under the table, rubbing his finger along mine.

Oh, boy.

There was no way I could fall for a fancy-pants reporter from an enormous city, was there?

***

“A date, tomorrow?” Missy said, letting out a squeal of glee.

Ridge had said his goodbyes after dinner like a true gentleman, giving us all a peck on the cheek. We girls had retired to the front porch, soaking up the moonlight, and pondering life’s great mysteries. Damon and Tommy had skedaddled to watch Friday-night football.

“A picnic,” I said, and filled them in on what Ridge had proposed. I’d only just managed to get my equilibrium back. Sitting so close to Ridge and all the gamut of emotions had zapped me.

“Well, I can’t see why you wouldn’t,” Missy said. “He passed our inquisition with flying colors. I don’t think anyone’s ever scored so high on the friend test before.”

CeeCee said, “Damon came pretty close with Lil, and look how that’s turned out. That Ridge, he’s a keeper, all right.”

“Oh, girls, please, you forget he’s a journalist,” I said, finally finding my real voice, and not the husky, half-dazed sound I used when Ridge was next to me. “He knows how to grill people under the spotlight — you don’t think that translates into him knowing how to act when the situation is reversed?” Once Ridge wasn’t around, the smidgen of doubt crept back up and tapped me on the shoulder.

CeeCee shook her head. “Ain’t no one can pass our test, unless they genuine. It’s foolproof. I tell you somethin’ — that boy in love with you. It’s as obvious as icing on a cake.”

“Sarah, you should have seen the way he was looking at you.” Missy’s voice softened. “Like you were some kind of prize. I found it impossible not to watch him watching you.”