A Not-So-Perfect Past by Beth Andrews

Author:Beth Andrews [Andrews, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780373715565
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-04-13T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

THURSDAY AFTERNOON, Dillon walked into the bakery’s kitchen and said, “You look like hell, Nina.”

That probably hadn’t been the smartest thing to say to the woman who’d hired him, but it was the truth. Nina’s apron was stained, she had dark circles under her eyes and her ponytail was frizzier than usual.She stopped pouring some sort of thick, creamy batter into large muffin tins long enough to glare at him. “Thank you for not only noticing that,” she said, scraping the last of the batter out with a spatula, “but for saying something about it.”

“I aim to please.” He pulled his insulated lunch pail out from under his arm and set it on the counter. “Aren’t you eating lunch?”

“I’ll grab something as soon as I’m done.” She measured brown sugar into a bowl, added flour, cinnamon and a stick of butter. “I just want to get these muffins in the oven first.”

He shrugged. It didn’t matter to him if she didn’t eat. Or that she’d been working so hard she resembled a fluffy-haired zombie and snapped at everyone who came in contact with her.

The phone rang. Nina wiped her hands on her apron as she crossed the room.

“Sweet Suggestions,” she said into the receiver. “Hello, Mrs. Bradley.” As she listened, she tipped her head back, closed her eyes and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like, “Why me?”

“Of course that’s no problem,” Nina said with forced cheer.

Her baking skills may be top-notch but her acting skills sucked.

He bit into his peanut butter and jelly sandwich as Nina hung up. She wrote something in a spiral notebook and then hurried back to her work area. She mixed the butter into the dry ingredients, then tossed in chopped nuts and sprinkled the remainder over the batter in the muffin tins.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked.

She looked at him as if he’d hit himself on the head with his hammer. “These wouldn’t really be cinnamon streusel muffins without the streusel, would they?”

He opened a bag of chips. “I’m talking about you taking more orders when you’re already behind.”

“I had to take that order.” She brushed her hands together and carried the trays to the oven. “Theresa Bradley is one of my most loyal customers. And as you just pointed out, I’m already behind, so making a cake for her daughter’s birthday party shouldn’t make much of a difference either way.”

“It shouldn’t,” he agreed and bit into a chip, “as long as she doesn’t want this birthday cake before Saturday.”

Nina wiped her work area clean. “She needs the cake tomorrow.”

Dillon paused, a chip halfway to his mouth. “And you still said yes? Are you stupid?”

Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her. With a low growl, she wound her arm like a baseball pitcher—with terrible form—and threw the dishcloth at him.

“Hey,” he said when it hit him in the chest with a damp splat. Still holding his sandwich in one hand, he set his chips down and brushed at the wet spot on his shirt.

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