The Cottage on the Corner (18 page)

Surprised, Charlotte met his eyes. He looked pissed off, but she wasn't sure why. “It's not stealing if I said he could have them. Which I did.”

“Right.” He peeled the paper off his cupcake.

Oh, dear God!

What had she done?

The man had a double chocolate cupcake with chocolate butter cream frosting. Double chocolate delight. She'd stopped making them months ago, but there it was. Right in his hand.

She wanted to snatch it back, but she didn't know how to do that without looking like a lunatic.

Besides, it was just a cupcake.

No magic power. No secret love potion.

Nothing but lots of good quality chocolate.

Intellectually, she knew it, but she still wanted to snatch the thing back and toss it into the garbage.

Max was being petty.

He knew it.

But it irritated him to see how relaxed Charlotte was with Cade. For whatever reason, Max resented that.

Probably because he wanted to be the one that Charlotte was comfortable with. He wanted to get the full force of her relaxed smile.

Right at the moment he was getting the full force of Cade's curious gaze. “She's right, Max. I was joking. I'm not planning to walk into her house anytime I please and take whatever sweet treat I'm craving.”

Max nodded, biting into the cupcake to keep from making more of an ass of himself. Dark decadent chocolate melted on his tongue and exploded through his senses. He had tasted a lot of chocolate and a lot of cupcakes, but he'd never tasted anything as good as
that
chocolate and
that
cupcake.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, taking another bite.

“Is something wrong with it?” Charlotte leaned close, and he caught a whiff of vanilla and sugar and something so sweet and lovely he wanted to take a deeper breath of it.

“Maybe you shouldn't eat it,” she murmured, her cheeks deep pink, her eyes bright.

“I'm already eating it, so it's a little too late to be worrying about that.” He polished it off, licked rich chocolate frosting off his fingers. “Besides, if it was poisoned, I'd die a happy man. That was the best damn cupcake I've ever eaten.”

“Good to know,” she responded, her gaze on the floor, the counter, the ceiling. It seemed she wanted to look at anything but him.

“Do I have one here?” Cade glanced at the plate of cupcakes.

“No!” Charlotte almost shouted. “What I mean is that I don't actually make that kind of cupcake anymore.”

“Why not?” Max asked at the same time that Cade started laughing. Not just a quiet laugh either. An obnoxiously loud laugh that made him want to plant a fist right in his good friend's mouth. “What's so funny?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Charlotte said, shooting Cade a look that might have killed if she'd had the power to do that with her eyes.

“Nothing?” Cade snorted. “He just ate one of your double chocolate delights, didn't he?”

“So what?” she demanded, her cheeks cherry red. “They're just cupcakes.”

She was wrong about that. What he'd eaten hadn't
just
been a cupcake. It had been a little slice of heaven, and if he had ten more sitting in front of him, he'd have probably eaten every single one of them.

Damn!

He hadn't just eaten a cupcake. He'd eaten one of
those
cupcakes. The ones that every woman in town wanted to feed the man of her dreams. The one that Carla Mae Rhinefield had tried to pawn off on him a couple of months ago. He hadn't believed the hype. As matter of fact, he'd laughed at more than one man who'd told him that the cupcakes were the work of the devil.

He'd still laugh at that kind of talk, but damn if that one cupcake hadn't made him want a hell of a lot more. And he wasn't just talking about cupcakes!

“Double chocolate delight, huh?” he asked, looking at the empty wrapper and wondering what Charlotte put in them.

“I'm afraid so. If I'd thought about it, I'd have left the double chocolate in the freezer, but I didn't, so . . .” Charlotte shrugged and offered a wry smile.

“We're destined to be together forever?” he joked.

It didn't feel quite like a joke, though.

And if he were going to be totally honest with himself, he'd have to say that forever with someone like Charlotte didn't seem like as much of a bad thing as it probably should have.

Sure, he'd made a decision to never get married, never have kids, never pass along the piss-poor people skills his parents had had. Life wasn't about absolutes, though. He'd lived long enough to know that. People changed. Things changed. Goals and dreams and thoughts changed.

“It was just a cupcake, Max,” Charlotte responded easily, still not meeting his gaze. He wanted to tilt her chin, make her look into his eyes so that he could see what was going on in her head, but Cade was watching them both with a look that was both amused and worried.

“I think we're done here,” he said. “Let's head over to the office and get those fingerprints processed, Max.”

Cade wasn't the kind to give orders, but that was pretty close to one. It didn't bother Max. He was on the clock, working for the town, and he'd do what he was told when he was told.

On his own time, though . . .

That was a different story.

He walked outside, ignoring Cade's hard look as he got into his cruiser. It was impossible to ignore Cade's entire upper body leaning into the car, though.

“It's going to be hard for me to get to the office with you hanging out of the door,” Max said calmly. No sense getting upset. Charlotte and Cade had been friends for a couple of years, and Cade was the kind of guy who looked out for the people he cared about.

“What's going on with you and Charlotte?” Cade didn't beat around the bush, and Max wasn't going to sidestep the question.

“Nothing. Yet.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that maybe I want something to happen.”

“You could have any woman in town, Max. How about you leave Charlotte alone and go find one of them?”

“How about you worry about my work ethic and my job and leave my personal life alone?” Max suggested, keeping his tone as even as Cade's had been. They were friends, and they'd never let women get in the way of that. When Cade had gone after Tessa, Max had stepped back and watched him do it.

Not that Tessa had ever paid Max more than five seconds of attention. She'd had eyes for no one but Cade. That had been obvious from the beginning. Still, Max
had
stayed away and kept his nose out of Cade's relationship.

Cade's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with frustration. “Charlotte is a friend of mine, and I don't want to see her hurt.”

“Since when do I hurt women?” he demanded, finally getting about as pissed off as Cade seemed to be.

“Since when have you ever wanted a woman who needs more than a few nights out and a couple of compliments to make her happy?”

“I haven't decided what I want. When I do, I'll be sure to let you know,” he responded, every word dripping with sarcasm. He needed this discussion about as much as he needed to chase cows along the interstate again.

“Yeah? Just be aware, that I don't want Charlotte hurt. If she is, I'm going to take it damn personally.”

“I am, too, so how about we both drop the subject until there's some reason to bring it up again?” Max suggested.

Cade eyed him for a moment, and then nodded. “As long as we're both clear on where we stand, there's no reason to keep hashing things out. I'll see you at the office.”

He stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching as Max backed out of the driveway.

Knowing Cade, he wouldn't mention the subject again. Unless Max did hurt Charlotte. Which was a distinct possibility. He wouldn't mean to. He wouldn't want to. He'd have absolutely no intention of it, but Charlotte was the kind of woman who'd want the white picket fence and the kids and the little dog yapping in the yard. She'd want to make dinners every night and sit down as a family to eat them. She'd probably give shoulder massages and pep talks and spend her days trying to think up ways to make the people she loved happy.

Max just wasn't that kind of guy. The kind that could appreciate a woman like that. The kind that could give her what she wanted and make her happy.

Not that he didn't want to be. He just . . . wasn't. Simple as that.

He flicked on the radio, ran a hand over his hair, catching a quick whiff of dark chocolate. Must be on his hand. He was tempted to lick his fingers, just to get another taste of the cupcake.

“Damn!” he muttered, because he wanted to turn around and go back and ask for a couple more of the things.

He wouldn't, but he was still going to take Charlotte out to dinner Friday night. As a thank-you for her help, and maybe to get to know her a little better.

One dinner wouldn't hurt either of them.

He just wasn't sure it would be enough.

Maybe, like the damn chocolate cupcakes, he'd end up wanting more.

 

 

There were a few of reasons why Charlotte was wandering down Main Street at midnight. First, she couldn't sleep. Second, she had no idea how to replace the lock on her back door. She hadn't even been able to figure out what kind of lock to buy. She really didn't want to sit around at home imagining someone sliding a credit card between the old lock and the door and walking inside. Plus, she just . . .

Well, she was lonely.

Simple as that.

She wanted a house filled with noise. Not the empty silent shell of a home she lived in.

Especially with Christmas looming.

All the things she wanted for so many years, all the things she'd thought that she'd have after she married, they were like the Christmas carol drifting from the upstairs apartment of one of the businesses—faded reminders of a million hopes that had come to nothing.

She stopped in front of the storefront she'd been drooling over for months. A two-story brownstone with a huge picture window in the front, it had office space and storage upstairs. Downstairs, the place had everything she'd need to run a bakery.

That's what she should be thinking about. Not old dead dreams.

She pressed her nose to the glass, trying to see into the interior.

Hers.

That's what it felt like, what she wanted it to be, but even a storefront couldn't fill the emptiness.

She shoved her hands deep into her pockets and turned away. She needed to shake off the funk that she'd been feeling since the twenty-seventh, let go of the niggling unhappiness. Or figure out what was causing it. Certainly not some sudden desire to jump back into the dating game, find another not-so-perfect match, and try the whole happily ever after thing again.

“That would be the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results,” she muttered.

“But talking to yourself
isn't
the definition of insanity?”

She jumped, whirling to face Max.

“Where did you come from?” she demanded, irritated because her heart was racing. Not because he'd scared her, either. Because he was one fine example of male beauty.

“Your place. I'm replacing your lock. Remember?”

“I thought we agreed that I didn't need you to do that.”

“My memory is fuzzy. Lack of sleep does that to me.” He grinned, and her stupid heart just about jumped out of her chest.

She had to pull herself together, keep the conversation on neutral ground so that she didn't find herself looking deep into Max's eyes, thinking about things she shouldn't.

Like what it would feel like to step into his arms, rest her head against his chest, listen to the quiet thud of his heart.

She was such a loser.

“Zuzu has been keeping you awake?” she asked, turning back to look at the storefront again.

Just keep your goals in mind and everything will be fine,
she mentally reminded herself as Max stepped up beside her and peered into the dark store.

“No. She sleeps pretty well. I've just been working odd hours since the wedding. Now that Cade is back, things will get back to normal.”

Good.

They were talking about something neutral.

She could handle that. Could just kind of keep the conversation going without making a fool of herself.

She hoped.

“How normal can they be when you have a little girl living with you?” she asked. He hadn't complained about having Zuzu dropped into his life, but Charlotte couldn't imagine that it had been easy to adjust to a toddler. Especially not one as precocious as Zuzu.

“Zuzu and I are kind of coming up with a new normal. Neither of us is all that happy about it, but we're getting used to it.” He turned away from Nick's store. She could feel the weight of his gaze, but she tried really hard to just keep looking at the large picture window.

Unfortunately she could see herself in the glass.

She could see Max, too.

She focused on the Christmas lights reflected in the glass. Red, blue, green, and white. The colors of the holiday painted across the wide window of the store she hoped would be hers soon.

There.

She'd refocused.

“Has Morgan given you any idea of when she'll be back?” she asked, finally ready to turn away from the window and look Max straight in the eye.

The real thing was much more impressive than the reflection. Not that she was noticing.

Much.

He shrugged broad shoulders beneath a dark wool coat.

Why was it that good-looking police officers always seemed to wear coats that emphasize their muscles? There should be some sort of law against that.

“So far I'm getting a lot of excuses for why she can't come get Zuzu and why I can't bring Zuzu to her. No definitive date, though,” he said.

“You have the doctor's appointment Friday, right?”

“That's right.”

“What if Zuzu
is
your daughter? Will you want her to go back to Mor—”

“You know, Charlotte”—he cut her off, his tone gentle with a just a hint of steel beneath it—“I'd rather not discuss my problems while I'm standing in the moonlight with a beautiful woman.”

Her cheeks blazed, but she was not going to act like a simpering fool because he'd called her beautiful. “The moon is covered by clouds. Even if it wasn't, I'm not beautiful.”

“Who told you that?” he asked, his hand sliding up her arm and coming to rest on her shoulder, his thumb just brushing the exposed skin of her neck. Her pulse thrummed in response, every nerve cell humming.