Dreaming Eli Page 3

  “And I ride pretty fast, too.”

  The oven dinged, and Jane went back to work. Caro did as well, adding details like trees and moss, and creating a gator resting across one corner of the large sheet cake. She was humming now too, and lost herself in the scent of sweet icing and the art of working with it. It was moments like this that she felt the most grateful for this chance to make her dream come true.

  This part of her life? Her Sweet Escape? This was going just great.

  Chapter 3

  Eli stepped out of the nicely-appointed bathroom on Saturday morning in his room at the Cypress Inn, rubbing one of the thick towels over his wet head. He draped the towel over the chair beside the small desk and pulled on his boxer briefs and a pair of cargo shorts. It was still pretty early, especially for a Saturday morning, but he was never one to hang around in bed even if he was alone. He never had that luxury as a kid and, even if he did now, he was accustomed to rising soon after the sun.

  He’d stayed in the inn, a bed and breakfast really, last spring, and despite the inn’s being quaint and full of what he guessed was Southern charm in the lobby and the common areas, the guest rooms were modern and comfortable and filled with the style and amenities people would expect at any of Chapman’s properties. He should know. He’d stayed in enough of them over his three years working at Chapman Financial. Bill hadn’t been able to get his hands on this little slice of Cypress. Not yet, anyway.

  Three stories tall, the B and B sat on a rise not far from the main lakeshore. It was designed well, and situated in a near-perfect setting. A huge wraparound porch and wide balconies off of several of the fifteen guest rooms took advantage of the view. He pulled on a pale green polo and stepped into his sneakers, and then crossed to his balcony.

  The sun was already up, and the air was humid and getting warmer. When he’d been here in the spring the heat had been welcome after the long winter of cold, wet weather in Boston. Now, though? He longed for the crisp fall air where he’d grown up.

  A memory tickled at the back of his mind, one of being bundled up against the chill and gathering crisp colorful leaves with a nameless, faceless woman he could only assume was his mother. She might have been one of his early foster mothers, though. Or maybe an older girl in the group home he’d landed in several times between more permanent, temporary placement. Even though he’d aged out of the foster system over ten years ago, he still felt like that lost little boy sometimes. He was nearly thirty, for God’s sake.

  He caught the frown on his face in the glass of the French door. Clearing his expression, he pulled the door open and stepped outside. The view of the lakeshore was as beautiful as he remembered, and he settled into one of the wicker chairs on the balcony. He stretched his long legs out toward the filigreed wrought-iron railing and let out a breath.

  He’d had a text from Rick Chapman last night, which he’d read when he’d gotten back from the End Zone, telling him to take the weekend to settle in and come to the Sales Center on Monday morning. Eli had received and signed the docs accepting the offer of employment before he’d left Boston, so he was all set to start work at Cypress Corners. It wasn’t where he’d imagined being this autumn, but he went wherever Bill needed him. Besides that, he’d told Caro he’d see her in Cypress.

  Caro. The girl was something. Her parents had tried to fix her up? Why? She was gorgeous. Any guy with eyes in his head could see that. She was smart too, seeing that she ran her own business. She was a catch, not that he was baiting the hook or anything. Whenever he caught a girl, he wasted little time cutting her loose once the good times were over. And they were generally over pretty quick.

  A few of them seemed to want more from him. Hell, a couple had outright told him as much. He was better on his own, charming his way through work and women and keeping everything light and easy.

  Eli knew he was good at his job, and traveling to far-flung properties on Chapman’s behalf was part and parcel of his position. He’d traveled more than he’d ever dreamed of back when he’d been a kid. Hell, he had more money now that he’d ever dreamed of, too. He had yet to figure out how to do the rest of it, though. Friends and hanging out and just being himself. That emotional stuff was never a good fit for him. In his experience, tears were brushed off and anger dismissed in his foster homes, and he’d learned to hide everything behind a look alternating between calm and good humor. He wasn’t even sure what he was hiding anymore.

  The inn had claim to a private beach reserved for its guests. Soft sand, gentle waves and towering trees dripping with Spanish moss all added to the feeling of seclusion. The beach was empty at the moment, though. It was quiet from the beach to the east of the inn, too. That was the main lakeshore, he knew from his previous visit. It was one of the many attractions geared toward for families that Cypress touted in all of their tours and literature.

  He supposed he should get up-to-speed on all of the amenities and quick. If he expected to sell Cypress? He had to buy into it himself. Maybe a walk around the town square on a sunny Saturday morning would help him get his bearings.

  A smile teased his lips. The bakery would be open this morning. The lovely Caroline had said as much last night, hadn’t she? He wasn’t sure why he’d flirted with her, other than the obvious. Yes, she was hot. And when she blushed her eyes seemed to change color. But she had a lot of family looking after her. That was clear to him. He had no clue how to deal with family, and if he got involved with her even a little bit, there would be complications.

  When he went downstairs to the bottom floor of the inn, he found breakfast set in the dining room. There were pastries on trays and several kinds of fruit for guests to serve themselves. The coffee smelled delicious and drew him further into the room. There weren’t many guests present, and he figured that it was a little too early for them.

  The French doors were open to the large balcony beyond, and he poured some coffee into a paper cup and strolled outside. The view of the lake met his gaze again.

  “Didn’t you want to try one of our cinnamon rolls, Mr. Graham?”

  Eli smiled at the innkeeper, an older woman of compact proportions. “I don’t think so, Mrs. Rollins.”

  “They’re an exclusive,” the woman added with a grin. “Not even the bakery in town has them.”

  “I’m sure they’re delicious, but I’ll have to try one tomorrow.”

  She placed her hands on her ample hips and tilted her graying head to the side. Her hair held a lot of red in it, and he absently wondered if she was related to Caro’s friend, Becky Rollins.

  “You’re not working on a Saturday, are you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Not this Saturday, anyway.”

  “You’re going to work at the Sales Center, right?”

  Eli nodded, causing the woman’s smile to widen.

  “There you go! No one works at the Sales Center on the weekends.”

  Eli stilled. This was news to him. “What?”

  “Yes, sir,” she went on. “Mr. Forbes, and that lovely Rick Chapman, insist that the place close on the weekends so that folks can spend time with family.”

  Family. There was that word again.

  “That’s, um. Different. I didn’t know that.”

  “I guess you’re used to working through your weekends up in Boston?”

  He arched a brow and she laughed lightly.

  “It’s impossible to keep secrets in Cypress Corners, Mr. Graham.”

  He flashed her his trademark smile and her eyelashes fluttered.

  “Then it’s a very good thing I’m an open book, Mrs. Rollins.”

  She giggled, actually giggled, and Eli dipped his head and stepped around her out into the lobby. His mind worked around what the woman had said. What the hell? The Sales Center was closed on the weekends? He thought back to when he and Derek had been here in the spring, and realized that the tours and conversations he’d had with Rick Chapman and any of his people had been on weekdays.

  “R
eal observant, dumb ass,” he grumbled.

  The dew of the morning was burning off, if the rising temperature was any indication. It would be warm today, but he had hopes that it wouldn’t be oppressive. He might not have any plans for his first of what would apparently be many Saturdays off, but he still wanted to explore Cypress and get a real feel for the place.

  He took another sip of his coffee and got into his SUV parked on the crushed shell lot behind the inn. His stomach growled and he regretted passing on one of Mrs. Rollins’s exclusive cinnamon buns. An idea struck him, and it was almost stupid it was so obvious. Setting the cup in the holder, he pulled out of the lot and headed toward the town center. If he was going to get a feel for the place, where better to start than with the bakery?

  And if he wanted to flirt with the sweet little baker? That sure seemed like a great way to pass his first day off in months.

  ***

  It was nearly seven o’clock, and Sweet Escape was just about ready to open.

  “The kid’s here,” Jane said as she grabbed the tray of brownies. “She’s doing a sweep of the dining area and making sure everything in the case looks great.”

  The kid Jane was talking about was Ashlyn, the college student Caro had hired to work on Saturdays and a couple of afternoons during the week. She was very good at her job, which was to make sure customers were greeted properly and the bake case looked crisp, clean and inviting. Caro could get a little bit OCD about the place, and thankfully both Ashlyn and Jane were as meticulous as she was.

  Caro wiped her hands and put on a fresh apron, one of the short ones that let her shirt and logo show. A quick trip to the unisex bathroom showed her Ashlyn had been here too. It was clean and neat as a pin. Caro brushed the stray flour and a smudge of blue icing off of her face and attempted to smooth the curls trying to escape her ponytail. As she stepped out, Ashlyn was just unlocking the door. The girl opened it with a grin, as she did on mornings she was here, and the first five notes of the pop song Sweet Escape chimed.

  “I love that,” Ashlyn said. “It gets the song stuck in my head all day, though.”

  “You and me both,” Jane put in.

  Caro shook her head in mock severity. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

  Sweet Escape was open for business. The bakery had wide plank wood flooring and several wooden tables, some round and some square, painted or stained in difference finishes. An eclectic mix of chairs were set neatly at each. The walls were painted a lighter green than their shirts and bakery boxes, and the color was bright and soothing at the same time. A narrow shelf ringed the place, painted a creamy white to match the wainscoting beneath. Mason jars holding lifelike silk wildflowers in pinks and yellows and purples sat on the shelf, adding to the homey and welcoming feel. The scent of lemon oil lingered just beneath the combined sugary smells of Sweet Escape’s offerings.

  Pride filled Caro every morning in this bit of time before the first customer entered and set off that pop-song chime, and this morning was no different. Pride that she’d done this without her family’s help and pride that the business continued to pay for itself, after a rocky first year.

  Her gaze settled on the wide display cases, in which the usual treats and their signature creations sat on glass plates over crisp doilies with tiny cards listing today’s temptations. Ashlyn disappeared into the back to help Jane with a few more trays of treats as the familiar door chime rang behind her. She turned to face their first customer of the day.

  “Welcome to Sweet Escape.” She stilled, and gaped at Eli. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Good morning.” He flashed that powerful smile of his and she felt the polished wood floor tilt just a little bit. “A sweet escape, huh?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I like to think so.”

  He ran a hand over his blond waves, and the action pulled up the bottom of his light green polo just a bit. She caught a glimpse of the lighter skin right above the low waistband of his shorts. Dragging her eyes from the sliver of skin more tempting than anything in the bake cases, she faced him again. By the sparkle in his blue eyes she guessed he’d seen where her attention had strayed.

  “You’re up early,” she managed to say.

  “It’s the norm for me.” He stepped closer and she caught the scent of him. It was fresh and a little spicy. “I’ll have you know I turned down Mrs. Rollins’s exclusive cinnamon rolls this morning.”

  Caro wrinkled her nose. “Oh, those darn cinnamon rolls. She’s Becky’s mother, you know. Those rolls are her only claim to make, and she lords them over me.”

  “Can’t you make cinnamon rolls?”

  “I can bake circles around the Cypress Inn, Eli.”

  He studied the treats arrayed in the display cases. “And yet, I don’t see any.”

  She snorted. “And you won’t. I think I have enough treats to put cinnamon rolls out of your mind.”

  His gaze flicked back to her, and ran slowly over the front of her. Her body tightened and her breasts tingled.

  “Yeah, you do,” he said.

  The words were so brash, so clichéd, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, you’re still welcome.” She walked around one of the bake cases to put the counter between them. “Would you like to try the special?”

  When he wriggled his eyebrows she laughed again. “Don’t even go there.”

  He laughed and tilted his head to look into the bake cases again. “Those brownies look amazing.”

  “Our s’mores brownies, Mr. Graham.” She chuckled and he looked up at her in question. “Graham cracker.”

  He blinked, and then nodded. “I get it.” He glanced at the case and then back at her. “Cupcake.”

  “So you want a cupcake?”

  A smile curved his well-formed mouth. “Not touching that one. I’ll try one of those s’mores brownies, though.”

  She nodded to Ashlyn, who bagged up one of the thick brownies while Caro rang him up. “Coffee this morning, too?”

  “Is it plain coffee?”

  “I can manage a latte if you prefer, but you have to go to the coffee shop for anything fancier.”

  “Plain coffee, please. Cream no sugar.”

  She poured him a coffee, leaving room for the cream she then added. Capping a plastic lid on the cup, she handed it and the bag to him.

  He swiped his card to pay. “So what is there to do in Cypress on a Saturday?”

  She shrugged. “Hmm. Let’s see. There isn’t anything this weekend. You just missed the Labor Day Picnic, but we’ll have the Fall Festival in a couple of weeks. And then there’s Halloween, which is celebrated longer than one day here. Cypress Corners is the small town afraid to be bored.”

  “I get that. I was here right before Easter.” He took the lid off his coffee and blew into the cup a little. “They were just gearing up for what I guessed was an epic egg hunt.”

  “It was. Sorry you missed it?”

  “Maybe.” He unwrapped his brownie. “I do have a sweet tooth.”

  His eyes were on hers as he took a bite, but even he couldn’t keep up his double entendre as the brownie’s special mix of moist chocolate cake, chips and toasted marshmallow apparently melted on his tongue. He closed his eyes and moaned, making her have some very naughty thoughts.

  “My God,” he mumbled, wiping a napkin over his mouth. “I have to sit down. Thanks, Caro.”

  She laughed as he took his breakfast over to one of the tables near the window, making room for the customer who quickly stepped up to the counter.

  She was soon too busy to pay him any more attention, and they had a line nearly to the door. Chatter and laughter mingled with the five-note door chime, and Jane and Ashlyn both pitched in. By the time the line thinned a little and she had a chance to look up, he was gone. It was nearly nine o’clock, after all. Still she was surprised to find she was disappointed, and wasn’t that just silly?

  He’d been flirting with her, but that seemed to be his default setting. Those sparkling eyes, that
teasing mouth. That dusting of golden stubble over his strong jaw. Not to mention how good he looked in his casual clothes. He was built for flirting, and lots of other wicked stuff.

  “Why don’t you take a few minutes, boss lady,” Ashlyn said in her ear. “Grab your morning cup of coffee.”

  “Hmm?” Caro stared at the girl for a beat. “What?”

  “Jane and I have this.” Ashlyn shouldered her way behind the counter. “Right, Jane?”

  Jane called out her agreement as she set another plate of brownies in the case, and Caro took off her apron and poured herself a cup of coffee. A little bit of sugar and a lot of milk finished hers, and she took it outside. She smiled at the customers coming and going as she settled on one of the benches lining the sidewalk. Her cup of coffee might not be what the flock of people going in and out of the coffee shop were craving, but it was hot and strong and just what she needed at the moment. Taking a long sip, she closed her eyes and leaned back. She let out a little purr as caffeine soaked into her veins.

  “I could watch you drink that all day.”

  Eli’s voice stroked over her and she found herself smiling even before she opened her eyes. “Eli.”

  He sat down next to her, bracing his legs apart as he settled back himself. “Looks like you’re having a busy morning.”

  “Thank God.”

  “This is your business, isn’t it? Yours alone?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Yep. All mine.”

  He gave a nod of approval. “Good for you.” He glanced at the door of the bakery as it opened and shut, and then arched a brow at her.

  “What?” she asked. “Or do I even want to know?”

  “Your bakery is closed on Sundays.”

  A tingle of anticipation went through her, and she tried her hardest to ignore it. “Yep. It is.”

  “Then we’ll have to figure out how to fill our day off.”

  “Our day off?”

  “Yeah, I’m not used to having a day off. Let alone two in a row. Tell me we can do something tomorrow?”

  “What kind of something?”

  “Is that a yes?”