Page 25 of Whisk Me Away

“What is it, Peach?” The color returned to her cheeks, making me feel like a million bucks. I liked knowing I affected her.

“Carmel apple pie bars,” she breathed.

I hummed my appreciation while taking a small step forward. We were so close she had to tip her head back to keep our eye contact. My gaze traveled over her face, taking in the light dusting of freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. Her gaze dipped to my lips, causing mine to follow suit. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips.

The urge to kiss her was stronger than I had ever felt before. Not even Olivia had this kind of effect on me. My head slowly dipped down as she raised her chin. That single movement was the only signal I needed to know she wanted this as much as I did. My lips were a whisper away from hers when someone behind Karis cleared their throat.

The sound startled us both. We flew away from each other like two kids caught making out under the bleachers at a high school football game.

When I took in the culprit of the noise, a hefty dose of panic shot through me. She couldn’t be here. What was she doing here? Of all the moments for her to show up, why did it have to be right now?

Olivia stood inside the station front door, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl.

“Here’s your dessert. I’ll… Uh… talk to you later,” Karis made a mad dash for the door before I could stop her.

“Karis, wait!” I called after her, but she was already sprinting to her car.

I was not ready for this conversation. I should have eaten one of those bars Karis made me. I should have been faster when I leaned in for a kiss. I should have done so many things, but at this moment, all that mattered was getting Olivia out of here so I could track down Karis.

CHAPTER 16

KARIS

What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have gone there. I shouldn’t have brought him anything, and I definitely shouldn’t have let him almost kiss me. I’m pretty sure he was about to kiss me before the beautiful redhead interrupted us. If looks could kill, I would have been a pile of ashes. She must have some relationship with Brant because she wasn’t even trying to hide the jealousy written all over her face.

I needed time to process what in the world had just happened, so instead of driving back to Mom and Dad’s, I headed toward the bakery. I parked my car around the back and hurried to the back door. Pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders, I fished the keys out of my pocket before unlocking the door and shoving inside.

Once in the safety of my kitchen, I let out a long sigh and slid to the tiled floor. With my back against the door, I placed my head in my hands.

What are you doing, Karis?I mentally chided myself. I knew I needed to shove my feelings down deep and move on, but I couldn’t help the little prick of jealousy that flared in my chest. Who was that woman, and how did she know Brant?

I would drive myself mad sitting here, allowing my mind to run a million miles in every direction, so I steeled myself, pushed up off the floor, and got to work.

I technically had the day off today because it was Christmas. Still, I wanted to get a jump start for tomorrow, and baking had always been a stress reliever for me. I could vividly remember many times when I was overwhelmed with school or life, and Mom would always find me in the kitchen creating something new. I found that when my mind was focused on creating, it didn’t have time to worry or focus on anything else.

I didn’t know how long I spent mixing, praying, frosting, praying, baking, and praying some more. When I turned to see the counter covered in cooling racks that were overflowing with all kinds of treats, I knew I must have lost track of time.

The emotions that had been welling up within me a few hours ago seemed far less overwhelming now. I set to work cleaning and storing my baked goods. After another thirty minutes, I dried my hands on the dish towel, slung it over my shoulder, and moved to grab my phone and keys.

With my phone in my hand, I tapped the home screen, noticing I had four new notifications. I slowly scrolled through the three texts, and one missed call.

I decided to open the most manageable text first. I had one from Eden asking if I could meet her for lunch tomorrow. I typed out my response, telling her to meet me at the bakery tomorrow at noon, and I’d make us a couple sandwiches. After sending it off, I braved the next set of texts.

Peach. I’m sorry.

Where are you? I’d love a chance to talk.

The last notification was a missed call from Brant about an hour ago. I stood there in the silence of my kitchen, debating if I should text him back. Did I want to talk? Did I want to hear that this woman was who he was with and he was only being friendly whenever we’d interacted over the last few months?

Deciding not to respond, I shoved my phone in my pocket and made my way to the back door. Once outside, I shut the door and locked it. When I spun around, my hand flew to my chest, and a gasp escaped my lips.

There by my car was none other than Brant. He was partially sitting on the side of the hood with one leg crossed over the other at his ankle. His hands were stuffed in his front pockets, and he was staring right at me. His hair looked disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it.

When our gazes finally met, there was a look in Brant's eyes that I couldn't quite place. It was almost unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was mad, upset, or maybe just emotionally detached because he was here to tell me the redhead was his girlfriend.

"You didn't text or call me back,” Brant's voice came out gravelly, like it took effort to force the words out.

I debated how I should respond to his statement. Did I need to explain myself, or should I just ignore him?