Close to Home - Part 6
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Part 6

"Don't be too sure."

What was it about older women? How did they perfect that mysterious, cryptic, all-knowing att.i.tude? Johnny was pretty darn sure his instincts had been correct about this one. Patty could either be a valuable ally ... or an adversary Johnny didn't need.

When he was pretending to be Alex Santiago, he'd gotten in good with the second in command of the gang. Sometimes it was more fruitful to go around the top guy and get to the right-hand man, to convert the person who had influence with the top decision maker.

It felt weird to apply the lessons he'd learned undercover to the problem of seducing his own wife, but Johnny was prepared to be ruthless.

To that end, he dredged up a grin and a twinkle for Patty. "That's good to hear. I can use all the help I can get convincing Tessa to give me another chance after the way I left her."

A strange look came over the older woman's handsome, laugh-lined face. "You know she's not angry with you. Don't you? She didn't leave to get back at you."

That brought Johnny up short. On some unspoken level, that was exactly what he'd thought. He felt his lips twist ruefully. "She seemed plenty mad when she stomped off yesterday, after I slipped and called her Terri. I didn't mean to, but it's automatic. She's been Terri to me for a long time."

"It's not about the name." Patty folded her lips together and shook her head, as if she'd said too much. "Look, John. I'm not here to be your go-between. I'm here for Tessa. End of story. If you're what's going to make her happy, then I'll be cheering you on all the way. But if you can't get your act together and figure that out, well, I'll be the one who keys your car and leaves that bag of flaming dog p.o.o.p on your front porch. You hear?"

From the pugnacious tilt of her chin and the snap of defiant pride in her deep brown eyes, Johnny thought Patty expected him to get p.i.s.sed off. Instead, all he felt was grat.i.tude.

"I hear you. And I'm glad she has you. Tessa's gone a long time with no one but me in her corner. The people who should have put her first, before everything else in their lives ... well, they weren't nearly as strong as you. I'd include myself in that group." The admission hurt, the words sticking in his throat like he'd swallowed a bone. "But I'm here now. And I'm trying. In fact, we've got our first couples-therapy appointment this afternoon at the Windy Corner Therapeutic Riding Center. That's what I came to tell her."

For the first time since he met Tessa's new boss, Johnny saw Patty's sharp gaze soften a bit. She harrumphed and hit a b.u.t.ton on the cash register to pop the drawer out. With a great whack, she broke open a roll of nickels and dumped it into the drawer. "Well. Good. That's something, at least. Here, have a cheddar pecan scone. You need to keep your strength up."

Johnny took the crumbly wedge gratefully. It was still warm from the oven, and the first bite shocked him with a burst of savory flavor he hadn't been expecting. Not that he was some expert on scones, teatime not being a big hobby at the ATF, but he'd had the impression that they were a dry, sort of tastelessly sweet type of biscuit.

This scone was sharp with cheddar and rich with the b.u.t.tery taste of toasted pecans, with a fiery kick of cayenne at the back of his tongue. Johnny basically inhaled the thing without even pausing to say thank you.

When it was gone and he was seriously considering licking the crumbs from his palm, he blinked his eyes open to see Patty watching him with a proud gleam in her eyes.

"That was amazing," Johnny said honestly, brushing his palm on his jeans. "I see why this bakery is such an island inst.i.tution. You're a great baker."

"Oh, I didn't bake those. Your wife did. In fact, those scones are her original recipe. She won a prize for them at the county fair, had her picture in the papers and everything. I guess you didn't see it."

Johnny blinked. Tessa had cooked for them most nights, and he'd certainly never had any complaints about the simple, nutritious meals she'd provided. But she'd never produced anything as knock-your-socks-off delicious and unexpected as that cheddar pecan scone.

"I had no idea she could cook like this," he said blankly.

"When she first came here, she couldn't." Patty went about straightening her display case, filling in holes in the trays of m.u.f.fins and rolls from the tall, wheeled racks behind her. "At first, all she'd do was follow my recipes. But after a few months, I started noticing that those old pastries that I've been making forever ... they came out a little differently when Tessa was the one doing the baking. I watched her one morning, and I saw that without even seeming aware of it, she was tweaking the recipes as she went along, adding a pinch of this and a dash of that, and every single time it was an improvement. Well, I won't fib, at first I was a little put out. I mean, those recipes are tried and true! I've been making my cinnamon-streusel m.u.f.fins the same way for twenty-five years! But when Tessa started folding a little dab of sweetened cream cheese into the cinnamon-brown-sugar filling-boy, I tell you what. I saw the light in a quick hurry! She's got a real knack for this work, and a real pa.s.sion for it, too."

Johnny stared down at what looked like little round knots of sweet, white dough, baked to golden brown and scattered with crunchy sugar and cinnamon-laced crumbs. "There's cream cheese inside there?"

In answer, Patty pulled out one of the rolls and broke it open, releasing a warm, spicy scent. White cream oozed in the center of the roll, ribbons of dark cinnamon sugar running through it, and Johnny's mouth watered.

Taking pity on him, Patty handed him half the roll and took a big bite out of the other half. Johnny had to hold back an obscene groan at the decadent richness of the yeasty, light pastry wrapped around warm, tangy-sweet cream cheese. They finished their treat in the silence that accompanies food so delicious that the eaters want nothing to distract them from their enjoyment.

"Incredible." Johnny gave in to temptation and licked his fingers clean. "I never knew ... and she must love it. No one could create something this delicious without enjoying the process."

Patty's smile widened. "There may be hope for you yet, boy. Yes, she does love it. And the bakery customers love her. She's been happy here, John."

He wanted to argue, to deny it. He'd been miserable every day they'd been apart. How could Tessa have been happy? But he'd seen it for himself. The way this island had set her smile free and unlocked her laugh. The way she'd grown into herself once she was out of the shadow of their unusual marriage.

"She has a life here," Patty continued, gentle but implacable. "One she can be proud of. And I won't lie, I have my own reasons for wanting her to stay-but if you convince her to leave Sanctuary Island with you, you'll be denying her the chance to live the life she built with her own hands and talent and heart. I'm asking you. Please don't take her away, John."

There it was. The answer he thought he'd come here to find ... and now that he knew that Tessa was fine without him, that she was happy, what was he supposed to do next?

"I want what's best for her." The words sc.r.a.ped painfully on their way out of his constricted throat. "That's all I've ever wanted, since the moment I met her."

Patty's answering gaze was full of solemn sympathy. "What a coincidence. That's what I want, too."

Behind Patty, a m.u.f.fled thump sounded from the other side of the door to the kitchen.

With a sense of inevitability, Johnny watched as Patty glanced over her shoulder to see Tessa standing in the doorway, fingers cramped white-knuckled around the shoulder strap of her purse.

Eyes flashing and lips pale, Tessa lifted her chin and said, "Maybe one or both of you should take a minute to ask me what I want."

Chapter 8.

Tessa couldn't catch her breath. All the progress she'd made toward independence, being her own woman, and here were the two people who mattered most to her in the world, standing around deciding her future without any input from Tessa herself.

It was maddening and humiliating, at least partly because Tessa didn't actually know what she wanted her future to look like.

"Oh, sugar!" Patty looked startled, one thin hand fluttering up toward her chest as if her heart were thumping erratically. "You startled me. What are you doing back here?"

"I came to check on the focaccia dough," Tessa answered mechanically. "It's almost done with its first rise and I didn't want you to be the one who had to pound it down. And that's not the point! You two. What are you doing, talking about me like I'm a child who can't make decisions for myself?"

Patty flinched and Johnny held up his hands as if Tessa had turned a gun on him.

"It's not like that, sugar-"

"Come on, honey, I didn't mean it like that-"

They were both so apologetic, turning pleading eyes on her and raising "who me?" brows in her direction. Instantly flushed with guilt, Tessa struggled to stick to her point. "I know neither of you meant to run me down or make me sound like an incompetent infant-and I know I've needed you both to take care of me in the past. I'm not denying that. But I thought I'd made it clear how important it is to me to start making my own way in the world. Johnny, this is a huge part of why I left, and Patty, I didn't settle here so I could trade one guardian angel for another. Thank you, both, for everything you've done for me and the many opportunities you've given me, but please, just ... stop."

Patty and Johnny exchanged pained glances, and Patty shooed him forward with a flip of her blue-veined hand.

"I get it, sweetheart." Tessa had never heard that tone from Johnny before, rough and graveled, but careful. "At least, I'm trying to."

Tessa couldn't help it. She melted like a lemon glaze over a hot b.u.t.termilk pound cake. "Well, I realize this is a big shift that I kind of threw at you all of a sudden. It's understandable that it would take some time to get used to the new me."

"I promise, I'm working on it."

Tessa's heart felt tender inside her chest, like a bruise. "I know you are. And I promise you I'll try, too, with the couples counseling. I mean it. So let's just see where this goes, okay?"

The slight smile Johnny gave her didn't seem to reach his beautiful dark eyes, but before Tessa could do more than frown in concern, Patty cleared her throat.

Tessa looked over at her new friend and mentor, and felt the tips of her fingers go cold and numb at the sight of the usually vibrant, vivacious woman hunched against the counter. Most times, Patty seemed more like a force of nature than an older lady whose doctors were worried about her health. But every now and then, Tessa caught a glimpse that reminded her that Patty was doing the work of a woman half her age, and it was wearing on her frail body.

"Why don't you close up early today, Patty?" Tessa urged, stepping up to the counter to wrap a tentative arm around the older woman's shoulders. Patty's bones felt frighteningly prominent under the bulky weave of her oatmeal-colored linen sweater, and Tessa held her gently. "Or I could clock back in and take the afternoon shift. Give you a rest."

Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa saw Johnny shift his weight. He bit down on whatever he was about to say, though, locking eyes with Patty. Who sighed wearily under Tessa's arm and said, "That's sweet of you, sugar, but you've already got an appointment this afternoon. To talk about your marriage while learning how to braid a horse's mane, or some such."

The spark of grat.i.tude in Johnny's gaze made Tessa bite back a sigh. He and Patty were still conspiring to run her life, in some way Tessa couldn't quite understand. Well, it was something to bring up in their therapy session, maybe.

"Before we head out," Johnny said, "I think Patty's got something to say to you."

"What's up, Patty?"

Tessa frowned when Patty hesitated. It wasn't like her forthright boss to hold back on saying her piece. She glanced at Johnny, who seemed to know something about it, but he merely shook his head slightly and pulled out his wallet.

"I'll wait outside. What do I owe you for the scone, Miss Patty?"

"You already paid," Patty argued. "Straight talk and a new understanding. I'd say that more than compensates me for a scone and half a cinnamon m.u.f.fin."

They regarded each other for a quiet heartbeat, and Tessa had the strange feeling that they knew each other better than should be possible after meeting only the night before.

Finally, Johnny nodded and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets before heading for the door. He stepped out, turning his face up to the sunshine, and Tessa dragged her gaze back to Patty.

"Okay. Tell me what's going on with you."

"I wasn't planning to say anything just yet." Patty fiddled with an empty coin wrapper, her k.n.o.bby-knuckled fingers uncharacteristically nervous. "I know you're not really in a position to do anything about it right now, and I keep hoping maybe I'll get all the way back on my feet."

A chill of dread skittered down Tessa's spine. "Tell me."

Patty waved away her concern the way she always did. "Nothing new, just the same old, same old from Doc Hathaway. Shouldn't stress, shouldn't work too hard, shouldn't be on my feet all day." She snorted. "Man's clearly never run his own business. Or baked a loaf of bread."

"That's what I'm here for, though. To take some of that burden off your shoulders." And off your poor, tired heart, Tessa finished silently.

Patty reached out and clasped Tessa's hand. "And you do it beautifully. When I set that ad for help a year ago, I didn't really expect to find someone. I had no hope that I'd be able to find anybody who I could stand to work beside every day, to train up and share my precious recipes with-but then there you were. And you were perfect."

Tears burned at the backs of Tessa's eyes, but it was the fear clutching at Tessa's throat that choked off her voice.

It sounded an awful lot like Patty was saying good-bye.

"Goodness, don't look like that!" Patty's other hand came up to join their clasped hands so she could tug Tessa toward the stool behind the counter and press her to sit down. "I'm not dying or anything. Well, I suppose I will eventually, but in the meantime I intend to live a good, happy life with as much health as I can cobble together. Which is where you come in."

"Anything," Tessa said desperately, squeezing Patty's fingers tight. "Whatever I can do to help you, I'll do it."

Patty laughed a little, but her thin lips were turned down at the corners. "Not so fast, sugar. What I'm asking isn't a small thing, and you might not be ready. But your man is right-I need to talk to you about it now so you have all the information you need to make a real decision about your future. Keeping it from you wouldn't be doing you any favors. And you were right, it wouldn't be respecting you as the woman you've worked so hard to become."

"Thanks, Patty. That means more to me than you can possibly know."

Patty leaned in for a short, strong hug, dropping her grip on Tessa's hand to clasp her shoulders and look her straight in the eye. "Okay, here goes. On my doctor's advice and after taking stock of these old bones of mine, I've decided I'd like to retire."

The bombsh.e.l.l rocked the foundation of Tessa's new world. "But ... Patty Cakes can't exist without Patty!"

A wry look came into Patty's shrewd eyes. "Oh, sugar. Patty Cakes has been more yours than mine for at least half a year. You already do most of the baking, all the heavy lifting, and the books. All I do anymore is help customers, and some days, to be honest, even that feels like too much for me."

Remorse mixed with worry to form a toxic c.o.c.ktail in the pit of Tessa's stomach. "I'm so sorry, Patty. I can take on more front counter work!"

"With what time? You're already here from dawn till dusk, most days." Patty shook her head. "That's no kind of life for a young woman. It doesn't make sense to ask any employee, no matter how devoted, to work like that. You'd burn out inside of a year."

"So we hire more help! Or we reduce our open hours-except we can't afford to do that, can we."

It wasn't a question. Tessa had been taking care of the bakery's finances, with Patty's help, for three months. She knew as well as anyone the delicate balance of work hours and sales needed for a small business like Patty Cakes to turn a sustainable profit.

"I have another solution," Patty said slowly. "Something I've been thinking about for a long time now, and I want you to consider it carefully. It might not be what you want-but you've more than earned the chance to make up your own mind about it."

Hope shafted through Tessa's chest like a ray of sunlight. "Patty, come on. The suspense is killing me, here! What's this big solution?"

Patty's dark eyes were bright with the moisture of unshed tears, but the tremulous smile on her lips was genuine.

Then she opened her mouth and changed Tessa's life.

Marcus held his breath and flicked the main breaker.

Nothing happened.

Cursing on a long sigh, he let his head drop against the metal box holding the breaker switches. G.o.d only knew what he'd tripped this time. He was starting to think there were mice in the walls, snacking on different wires all day long.

"Careful you don't get sweat on those switches," an unfamiliar female voice sang out from behind him. "You could get electrocuted and thrown halfway across the room! And then I'd have to do CPR, which I don't really know how to do, although I don't see how it could be that hard and I watch TV so obviously I know the basics. But..."

Marcus straightened and rounded on the intruder. Second time in as many days that someone showed up here unannounced, getting the drop on him. Unacceptable.

He had no idea what his face was doing, but whatever the girl saw there cut off her babble like she was connected to the switch he'd just flipped.

"We're not open," he said, eyeing her. With her fresh-faced, freckled complexion and her red hair pulled up in a simple ponytail, she looked like she was barely old enough to be standing in a bar at all.

"Oh, I know." The quick, wide smile lit up the room. Marcus refused to be charmed. "I'm here to welcome you to the neighborhood! I mean, to welcome you back to the neighborhood. Welcome home, Marcus."

Every muscle went taut, adrenaline flooding him with no outlet. He had no idea who this girl was. How did she know his name?

Her blinding smile faded into a rueful wince. "You don't remember me. I mean, why would you? My name's Quinn, not that you called me that. Not that you called me much of anything!"

The slightly nervous babble of her voice faded in Marcus's ears as she held out a hopeful hand with something dangling from it. In the darkness, it was just a solid shape at the bottom of his field of vision and his body reacted without conscious thought.

Marcus stepped smoothly forward, directly into the girl's personal s.p.a.ce, close enough to foul her aim and make their two bodies into a single target. She gasped as he simultaneously snagged the package from her loosened fingers, registering only that it was light and the contents shifted inside with the movement.

He blinked and realized he had his other hand curved around the base of the girl's slender, white throat. His thumb rested against her fluttering pulse, tracking the hummingbird-fast beat of her heart. He felt it when she swallowed, first in his palm and then, a moment later, in his groin.

What the h.e.l.l?

This close, he could make out the red-gold gleam of her hair and the darker sweep of her eyelashes framing wide, indigo-blue eyes. Her lips parted and he caught the flicker of her pink tongue, wetting her bottom lip. If he tightened his hand, he could crush her windpipe-but she didn't struggle or pull away. She only watched him with that fathomless stare, as if ... G.o.d.