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“I’ll be back in a few,” Jazz said as she picked up her espresso. “Call if you need help, though. I’ll be out back.”
“I love this space,” I said to Brooklyn.
“Thanks.” She beamed. “This part of the bakery used to be my dad’s leather workshop. When he died, I converted it to a bakery and the upstairs office into a living space. We only recently bought the building next door and expanded.” She paused. “You didn’t ask for any of that information.”
“No, but I appreciate the story all the same.” I laughed. “When are you due?”
“Couple more months to go.” She patted her belly. Brooklyn’s face glowed with joy and contentment. Her wedding ring caught the sunlight shining through the big front window, reminding me that I’d worn an engagement ring not long ago.
How fast your life can change in the blink of an eye.
I quickly hopped off my stool. “Thanks for the coffee and biscotti. I think I’ll get my suitcases up to the apartment.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good idea.” Brooklyn nodded. “Need help?”
I raised my brows. “Aren’t you the pregnant one?”
She chuckled and gestured with her head in the direction that Jazz had disappeared. “Jazz can help.”
“Nah. I’m okay. It’s not a lot,” I murmured. “I didn’t bring much.”
I took a deep breath when I got outside. It wasn’t that Brooklyn’s happiness made me uncomfortable. It just reminded me that I’d never been as happy with Knox as she was with Slash.
Why had I been willing to tie myself to a man who didn’t bring unbridled joy into my life?
I popped the hatch of my car and then dragged out my first suitcase. An hour later I was pretty well unpacked, but I had no food in the fridge.
I hadn’t ever lived alone. I’d gone from my parents’ house directly to college where I shared a room and a suite with roommates, and then I’d moved in with Knox.
My phone rang, jarring me out of my pondering.
“I’m coming over tonight,” Tavy said.
“Damn right you are,” I said with a laugh.
“What are we doing for dinner?” she asked.
“You bring the pizza. I’ll handle dessert.”
* * *
“I might’ve gone overboard,” I said the moment Tavy stepped into the apartment.
She was holding a pizza box and looked around for a moment, her gaze landing on the coffee table that was covered with a plethora of pastries.
“I was going to say you didn’t go far enough.” She grinned. “Where can I set this?”
“Counter.”
She set the pizza box down. “Well, give me the grand tour.”
I chuckled. “This is pretty much it. But it’s all mine.”
“It’s cute,” she said. “And it came furnished?”
“Yep.”
“Are you going to change anything about it?” she inquired, kicking off her slip-ons, showing off painted blue toenails.
