Read Online Bliss and the Art of Forever (A Hope Springs Novel) by Alison Kent - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alison Kent
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Great Lakes or the Grand Canyon. But Italy. Brooklyn was going to Italy with no definite plans to come back. Callum got that her husband’s family was there, and she wanted to see them, but she couldn’t make a quick trip of it? Tour the States if she needed a change of scenery? Teach someplace close if she was tired of Hope Springs?
He wanted to get to know her, but how smart was the investment of time and emotion when she was going to take off in a few months?
And, yeah. He couldn’t believe this was where his mind had gone at the end of what had been a heinously busy Valentine’s Day. Even without checking the receipts he knew he’d had a record one. But rather than celebrate the income and the exposure, he was stuck on Brooklyn Harvey leaving town.
What was wrong with him that he was making her life, her plans, her choices all about him? That one’s simple. She’s everything good you could’ve had in your life all these years if you hadn’t screwed up so completely.
Sick of working with heart-shaped molds, he thought about tossing them instead of washing them. But replacing them next year would cost him, and he was done being stupid. Moving the polycarbonate trays from the marble work surface to the stainless-steel sink, he turned on the hot water and let it run, the room that he kept at a crisp sixty-five degrees growing damp from the steam.
Since day one of opening Bliss, end-of-day cleanup was on him. No candy mold unscrubbed. No floor tile unmopped. No bottle of colored cocoa butter unshelved. His daughter and his livelihood. He saw to every detail of both. At least the ones he knew about, and he would be having a talk with his mother—again—about backing off. As far as Bliss was concerned . . . maybe one day he’d let a crew handle things, but until then, iron fist, baby.
Shutting off the water, he headed out of the kitchen and into the store where his Roomba had been vacuuming for the last hour. This was his time to unwind, to put his world in order, to think. To process the day and assure himself it was exhaustion that had him imagining he’d heard the rumble of Harleys outside at the same time his father had stopped by this afternoon with Addy. He hadn’t heard them. He couldn’t have.
Addy was his. Officially. Legally. He’d spent every penny he could get his hands on to make sure he had sole custody. The money may have come from questionable sources. The evidence against the woman who’d carried his daughter nine months may have been enough to cost her her life. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. She was dangerous. She would’ve ruined Addy the way she’d very nearly ruined him.
A knock on the glass of the shop’s front door brought his head around, loose strands of his hair flying into his face with the movement, his panicked heart slamming against the cage of his ribs. Cool it, hotshot. It’s not her. She’s not here. Addy’s safe. He knew he was right, yet he couldn’t rid himself of the fear that bubbled up in a hard, choking boil.
It wasn’t Addy’s mother. It was Addy’s teacher. Brooklyn Harvey was standing on the sidewalk outside. She waved when she saw him looking at her, then wrapped her arms around herself and waited. And once he’d tamped down the dread that still lingered, he found himself smiling. Found himself drinking her in and his emotions settling. It shouldn’t be this good to see her. Though why in the world she was here . . .
She had to be cold. It was near midnight, and they might be in Texas, but it was the Hill Country and still February 14. Her sweater didn’t appear thick enough to do its job, and though she had on jeans, she wasn’t wearing socks with her flat slip-on shoes. He headed for the door, turning the locks at both the top and the bottom, and pushing it open.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about you being all locked in,” she said before he even got out a hello. “Though that answers that question.”
“It’s just
He wanted to get to know her, but how smart was the investment of time and emotion when she was going to take off in a few months?
And, yeah. He couldn’t believe this was where his mind had gone at the end of what had been a heinously busy Valentine’s Day. Even without checking the receipts he knew he’d had a record one. But rather than celebrate the income and the exposure, he was stuck on Brooklyn Harvey leaving town.
What was wrong with him that he was making her life, her plans, her choices all about him? That one’s simple. She’s everything good you could’ve had in your life all these years if you hadn’t screwed up so completely.
Sick of working with heart-shaped molds, he thought about tossing them instead of washing them. But replacing them next year would cost him, and he was done being stupid. Moving the polycarbonate trays from the marble work surface to the stainless-steel sink, he turned on the hot water and let it run, the room that he kept at a crisp sixty-five degrees growing damp from the steam.
Since day one of opening Bliss, end-of-day cleanup was on him. No candy mold unscrubbed. No floor tile unmopped. No bottle of colored cocoa butter unshelved. His daughter and his livelihood. He saw to every detail of both. At least the ones he knew about, and he would be having a talk with his mother—again—about backing off. As far as Bliss was concerned . . . maybe one day he’d let a crew handle things, but until then, iron fist, baby.
Shutting off the water, he headed out of the kitchen and into the store where his Roomba had been vacuuming for the last hour. This was his time to unwind, to put his world in order, to think. To process the day and assure himself it was exhaustion that had him imagining he’d heard the rumble of Harleys outside at the same time his father had stopped by this afternoon with Addy. He hadn’t heard them. He couldn’t have.
Addy was his. Officially. Legally. He’d spent every penny he could get his hands on to make sure he had sole custody. The money may have come from questionable sources. The evidence against the woman who’d carried his daughter nine months may have been enough to cost her her life. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. She was dangerous. She would’ve ruined Addy the way she’d very nearly ruined him.
A knock on the glass of the shop’s front door brought his head around, loose strands of his hair flying into his face with the movement, his panicked heart slamming against the cage of his ribs. Cool it, hotshot. It’s not her. She’s not here. Addy’s safe. He knew he was right, yet he couldn’t rid himself of the fear that bubbled up in a hard, choking boil.
It wasn’t Addy’s mother. It was Addy’s teacher. Brooklyn Harvey was standing on the sidewalk outside. She waved when she saw him looking at her, then wrapped her arms around herself and waited. And once he’d tamped down the dread that still lingered, he found himself smiling. Found himself drinking her in and his emotions settling. It shouldn’t be this good to see her. Though why in the world she was here . . .
She had to be cold. It was near midnight, and they might be in Texas, but it was the Hill Country and still February 14. Her sweater didn’t appear thick enough to do its job, and though she had on jeans, she wasn’t wearing socks with her flat slip-on shoes. He headed for the door, turning the locks at both the top and the bottom, and pushing it open.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about you being all locked in,” she said before he even got out a hello. “Though that answers that question.”
“It’s just
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