Love Takes the Cake (8 page)

“Plain chocolate or the white chocolate?” She pulled a notebook from near the register and clicked a pen.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

She shot him a glare. “Will.”

“Either is fine.”

She huffed. “Did you even think about this decision?”

No, but he'd thought plenty about a different one. “Go out with me.”

Charlotte's face drained of color.

That hadn't come out as planned. He'd intended to be more intentional, more romantic. More like those characters in those Austen books she was always talking about. He cleared his throat. “Please?”

“Mom! Say yes!”

Oh, man. He'd forgotten they had an audience.

“He's super handsome. And he liked my cupcakes.” Zoe grinned, her arms draped over the back of her chair.

“Zoe.” Charlotte closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. “I think Julie needs you in the kitchen.”

“Really? She never needs help.” Zoe slowly climbed down from her chair, her expression a mixture of confusion and happiness. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She ushered Zoe around the counter and through the swinging door. “Wash your hands first. Julie! Um, let Zoe help, okay?”

“Help me with wha—” Julie caught the swinging kitchen door, took one look at Will, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh. Right. With
that
.” She grabbed Zoe's hand and tugged. “Come on, kiddo. Want to lick the spoons?”

The door swung shut against Zoe's exuberant agreement.

Will rested his elbows on the counter between them, hoping she wouldn't hear even at this distance how fast his heart was beating. “Seems I have one vote in my favor.” And a foot in his mouth, but maybe she wouldn't notice that either.

“I can't believe you.” Charlotte's tone now possessed a steady sternness that threatened to rock Will back a step. Two-thirds Mama bear and one-third elementary school principal.

He blew out a short breath. “Look, I'm really sorry I asked in front of Zoe.” He lifted both hands in defense. “I wasn't thinking. I know you probably have rules about that.”

Charlotte let out a strangled laugh. “Rules about—are you kidding me?” She reached up and briefly pinched the bridge of her nose as if gathering her composure. “Let me ask you a question. What would Melissa say about this?” She gestured between them.

He hesitated. That was the question of the hour in his
own heart, but if Melissa meant what she'd been preaching at him for weeks now . . .

He calculated his answer carefully. “I think Melissa would be proud of me.”

Charlotte's eyes widened. “
Proud
of you? Of all the nerve . . .”

“You're right. It took nerve to ask you out.” So much so, that in fact, he was starting to wonder why he had. The longer this went on, the more his pride was curling into the fetal position. “You know, a simple no would have sufficed.”

“There's nothing simple about a practically engaged man asking me out on a date. Again!” Her face flamed so hot he could have baked a cookie on her cheekbones. With anger? Or embarrassment? He could relate to both at the moment himself.

Then her words registered.
Again
—what
again
? He'd never asked her out before this moment. Never even hinted at it. “What do you mean, practically engaged?” He hadn't dated anyone in years, much less proposed.

“I'm not stupid, Will.”

“What are you talking about, Charlotte?”

She pointed to her bare ring finger, as if playing charades would help him comprehend. “You. And Melissa.”

She shook her head, palms landing with a slap against the countertop. “You know, I fell for this kind of thing years ago, but I won't do it again.” Her cheeks grew redder and her voice louder the longer she ranted. “Melissa deserves a lot better than this. I don't even know her, but no woman deserves to be tricked and manipulated and treated like—”

“Melissa is my sister.”

She stopped midlecture. Arms braced against the counter. Cheeks glowing with indignation. Mouth open. She swallowed. “Sister?”

“Yes. Sister. What did you think—” Oh.
Oh
. He snorted. “You thought . . .”

She dropped her head to rest on her elbows, hiding her face. “I can't believe I assumed she was your girlfriend.”

He tried to remember all of his references to Melissa during his interactions with Charlotte. He couldn't grasp details to give merit to the confusion, but clearly he'd never specified who his sister was.

But that still left one question. “Now that you know I'm not a total sleazebag and hitting on you while I have a girlfriend . . . will you let me take you to dinner?”

Charlotte snorted back a laugh, her head still buried. “I can't even look at you right now. I'm going to burst into flames I'm so embarrassed.”

He wanted to see that. He gently prodded her bent arm. “Waiting on an answer here.” Third time was the charm. “Charlotte? Will you go on a date with me?”

Zoe suddenly barreled back through the kitchen door. “Mom! Say yes. Please!”

Julie popped her head around the frame. “We really need better soundproofing back here.”

Charlotte lifted her head, cheeks red, eyes closed. Hope built in Will's chest. She was caving. Slowly.

“Mom, if you say yes, I won't eat sweets for an entire day.” Zoe's wide-eyed, solemn promise couldn't have been more perfect if Will had planned it. He held his breath.

Charlotte looked at her daughter, then at Will. Then at Julie, who gave a thumbs-up, then back at Will, and released a sigh. “Make it two days.”

“Two?” Indignation filled the little girl's voice.

Will raised his eyebrows at her. Mouthed the word
please
. She frowned, twisted her braid, and then nodded. “Okay. It's a deal, Mommy.”

Charlotte met Will's eyes and offered a timid smile. “It's a deal.”

“I can't believe you thought I was dating my sister.”

“Will!” Charlotte kicked him under the table, stifling a laugh. Talk about poor timing for their waiter. He delivered a fresh basket of chips and fled the scene.

When he was gone, she leaned forward across the white tablecloth and lowered her voice. At this point in the evening, they'd probably annoyed their table-neighbors enough with all their laughter. “I didn't think you were dating your sister. I didn't
know
she was your sister. Big difference there.”

Once again, those hazel eyes kept drawing her in. All of her doubts and fears about this date had dissipated halfway into their appetizer of queso and tortilla chips.

Earlier Zoe had caught her double-checking her reflection in the mirror. “Don't worry, Mommy,” she said. “You look like a princess.”

Now she was beginning to feel like one.

And it was about time she'd found someone remotely prince-like.

Will leaned back in his chair, one arm slung along the back. “Eh, details.” He winked.

She shook her head. “You're incorrigible.”

He snagged a chip from the basket and popped it in his mouth. “I was once. Not anymore.”

“Because of the military?”

He shrugged. “Partly. You get used to being corrected pretty quickly in basic training.” He picked up another chip, but didn't eat it. Just turned it end over end in his hand, as if he'd gotten lost in thought. Or in the past.

She could relate to that. She sensed he wanted to say more, but couldn't. Wouldn't? Maybe it was her turn. After all, he'd taken the first step in asking her out. Now that Melissa wasn't an issue between them—obviously—Charlotte had no reason not to see what could develop.

That didn't make her feel any less terrified, but at least it offered possibilities.

“Do you regret leaving the military?” The words slipped out before she could fully weigh them. If that was the reason for his hesitations in their conversation, then her bringing it up could backfire. She held her breath.

“No, I'm happy in the reserves.” The chip turned faster in his hands. “There were some family issues that needed to be taken care of a few years ago, and well—I didn't have much choice.”

Family issues. She was a single mom. Say no more.

“I'm still trying to figure out what to do next. I don't
want to be a trainer all my life, though the time in the gym has been productive.”

She definitely concurred with that, but didn't have the nerve to say so. “Okay, so no full-time military, and no permanent training plans in the cards for you. What else do you like to do?”

He studied the chip in his hand as if it held the secret to some long-buried question. “I used to cook a lot, actually.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you thinking about giving me competition?”

He shot her a glance. “Cook. Not bake.”

“Lucky for you.”

He grinned at her tease. “Maybe it's lucky for
you
.”

She was already feeling pretty lucky just sitting here across from him. And now she really wanted him to cook for her sometime.

Will finally dropped the chip, giving her his full attention once more and making her stomach cartwheel with the intensity of it. “So, what about you? Any regrets?”

Speaking of single motherhood. She bit her lower lip, wishing she had a chip to spin now. She didn't want to lie—and he'd already met Zoe. But still . . .

“That word—regret—it seems so harsh.” She lifted one shoulder. “I don't regret Zoe. Not for one single second. I just sometimes regret the way all of that came about.”

He nodded. “Bad breakup?”

“Ha. That's an understatement. More like shocking.” She hesitated. “When I told him I was pregnant, he didn't want to be part of Zoe's life. At all.” The words poured out, faster and faster, as if some inner dam had burst. She hadn't
vented this story in a long time. “Apparently it cramped his fiancée's style. I haven't seen him since he wrote me a pretty pathetic check and told me to hit the road.”

“That's unbelievable. Zoe is . . . just . . . she's . . .” Will hesitated, as if searching for the right words.

She waited, fully understanding his dilemma—Zoe blew her mind daily with her sweetness, her charm, her talents. She was so blessed.

“She's just so awesome.”

Exactly. She
was
awesome. “Thank you.” It was completely her dad's loss. Zoe deserved more than a donor—she deserved a full-time father figure to dote on her.

All the more reason for Charlotte to choose carefully.

She picked a chip out of the basket and began breaking it into several pieces on her plate. “I never bothered trying to sue. Couldn't afford a lawyer at the time, and decided I'd rather make my own way than drag him unwanted into Zoe's life.”

And God had provided for her—for
them
—one step at a time the entire way. She still didn't deserve such grace.

“Wait a minute.” Will frowned, scooting his water glass out of the way so he could lean forward. He braced his arms against the table and lowered his voice. “Did you say
fiancée
a minute ago?”

She'd wondered if he'd caught that part. She nodded, trying unsuccessfully to throttle back the fear. “My boyfriend—Zoe's dad—was engaged to another woman while we were together.” Even now, the shame of that truth rubbed a raw spot.

“And you didn't know.” It wasn't a question. The
matter-of-fact way he uttered it warmed a long-frozen spot in Charlotte's heart.

“Right. I didn't know.”

The usual rush of memories—vivid reminders of that cold football game, that horrible showdown in the stadium in front of the entire school, the pounding of her broken heart now beating for two—didn't come. Instead, there was calm. Peace. As if she'd finally taken a step away from her past and into her future.

Will cleared a spot as the waiter brought their plates of enchiladas. When the waiter had refilled their water glasses and left, Will turned back to her with eyes she could only describe as kind. “You've been through a lot.”

She spread her napkin in her lap. “Not as much as some.”

Will took that in, nodding. “Not as much as some. But I'm sorry you—and Zoe—had to go through that kind of pain.”

“I should have known better.” She picked up her knife and began to cut into the mass of beef and cheese on her plate. “He didn't pass the eye test.”

“The eye test?”

“The eyes don't lie. It's what I tell Zoe all the time.” She forked a piece of the cheesy tortilla. “He never could look me directly in the eyes.”

“What a coward.”

She could come up with a dozen other accurate, suitable names, but she was tired of talking about her ex. “That's enough about me.” She blew on her next bite to cool it off, grateful that the mountain in her past was already starting to fade behind them. “Tell me more about Melissa. Are you guys pretty close?”