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“And?” he prodded, knowing more was on the table than just a job offer.
“She’s excited to do the desserts for Lilliana’s restaurant and help with the regular baking at the Goddess.”
“And?”
“I can get more sleep and not work seven days a week.” She’d known opening The Goddess Bakes would be a time and emotional investment, but she hadn’t been prepared for it to take over her life. Living above the store helped, but she didn’t know how she would have gotten through it without her family and Lucas.
As soon as the Tetons had lost their last game in January, Lucas shifted into working at the farm and taking over the space at Woodstock Gifts and Papercrafting. He’d helped Mrs. Khan box all her remaining items to send to the auctioneers. He’d also found buyers for most of her displays and fixtures. Between all that, he worked with an architect to help bring Maggie’s dream to life.
Before she’d left for baking school, she contacted the lawyer she’d used for her ill-fated Brewster’s contract and had her write a lease agreement between her and Lucas. He’d said over and over like a broken record that he didn’t need an agreement, but Maggie had insisted. The Goddess Bakes had to stand on its own two feet and not be propped up by her boyfriend. Eventually, Lucas gave in to her arguments, but he insisted, as landlord, that all build-out costs roll into the lease costs, including the appliances.
The Goddess Bakes opened at the end of April, and Lucas turned his attention to helping his sister finish their family’s restaurant. A week after opening, Lilliana stumbled into the Goddess sobbing that her pastry chef was leaving for a job at a Reno casino.
Because a crying woman in the middle of her bakery wouldn’t be good for business, Maggie had taken her to Moo Please. Plus, ice cream made everything better. Over warm brownies topped with toffee ice cream, they’d hatched a plan that benefited both businesses. The Goddess Bakes would supply Lilliana’s with desserts.
What should have been a win-win, stressed Maggie to the limits and threatened to break her relationship with Lucas. She liked Lilliana, but the chef kept requesting difficult, fussy desserts until Maggie had thrown a piping bag at Lucas. He’d caught it, placed it on the counter, and then stormed down the hallway to Lilliana’s. He’d returned fifteen minutes later and smacked a list in front of her.
“These are the ten desserts allowed, and you will only make three a night. Lilly needs to place her order a week in advance. No more daily orders and changes,” he’d growled. Maggie had wept with joy at his harsh words and flung herself into his arms. He’d mopped her tears and told her to finish up before he went out front and waited on customers.
That night they’d had a long talk and Maggie finally admitted he was right. She couldn’t keep going as she was. She needed help, and she needed to bake what filled her with joy. It wasn’t her fault his sister had a staffing issue, and it wasn’t her responsibility to fix it, no matter how close the two women had become. Her new assistant, a trained pastry chef, would let Maggie focus on The Goddess Bakes and allow her some much-needed downtime.
“I’m proud of you, Maggie,” he said, before kissing her sweetly.
“I’m pretty proud of me, too,” she admitted as she wrapped her arms around him. He may have muscled-up over the summer, but he was still her cuddly teddy bear. His phone vibrated against her leg.
“We should go.” He turned her toward the door and gently urged her forward.
“You set a timer for dinner?”
“Something like that,” he mumbled, closing the door behind him and giving the frame a gentle pat. He’d miss the cottage. They both would. He slipped his hand into hers, and Maggie frowned. His energy was off and what was normally a warm, solid current between them felt hot and erratic.
“Are you nervous?”
“Nervous?” His voice broke as he wiped his forehead with his free hand.
“Training camp starts tomorrow. I imagine that can be nerve-racking.”
“Which is why I ordered five dozen muffins from my favorite baker. I want to start with a good impression at the morning offensive line meeting.”
“I’ll deliver them by ten.”
Lucas kissed the back of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Maggie’s nose twitched as they neared the house. The air smelled of grilled steaks and the petunia baskets lining the porch rails. “That smells so good, and I am so hungry,” she said, walking faster toward the house until she jerked to a stop. “What are you doing?”
She turned, annoyed that he’d dropped anchor in the middle of the dirt driveway. His face was pinched and drawn. “Are you okay? Is it your ankle? Do you have a cramp? Should I get—”
He held up his hand and looked up at her from his crouched position. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute, okay?”
Maggie nodded her head and bit her lip. He’d made a wrong step off a ladder during construction and rolled his ankle, but it hadn’t troubled him in over a month. But if he’d skipped lunch and was dehydrated, it could be a muscle cramp. Why isn’t he badgering me to heal him like he usually does?
Lucas fumbled in his pocket and pulled out Nanna’s huge pink screwdriver. He pulled the ends apart, opening the middle before shaking the bits into his hand.
“Do you have a loose screw we need to tighten, Mr. Rodriguez,” she teased, hoping to lighten the mood. Something was wrong. She needed to get water and food into him. Lucas carefully put the bits back, closed the screwdriver, and stuck it back in his pocket. He smiled at her.
“I think I do. I must because I’m crazy about you. You are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing when I crash at night. You are a constant distraction. You infuriate me, but all it takes is a kiss and I’m putty in your hands.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
