Read Online Take A Chance On Me by Jennifer Dawson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Dawson
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experiment, and I always need taste testers.”
Mitch sat down across from her with a wide smile on his face. “How are you feeling this morning, Princess?”
Maddie nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Not too hungover?” He stretched his long legs under the table and leaned back in his chair. Maddie did her best to ignore the way his black T-shirt pulled tight over his flat abdomen.
“Nothing coffee and food won’t cure,” Maddie said, taking another sip as though to prove her point.
“Well, we’ve got that covered.” Gracie slid a golden concoction sprinkled with powdered sugar from the bakery box. “It’s Swedish flop. But I infused some raspberry into the cream.”
Out of nowhere, Maddie’s throat closed over and she had to blink back sudden, unexpected tears. Teeth clenched, she stared at the flaky pastry, which was overflowing with pink-tinged buttercream.
She hadn’t had Swedish flop in thirteen years. It had been a Sunday-morning tradition that ended when her dad died.
She remembered every detail of their last Sunday together. The sound of her dad’s voice as it echoed through the house. The whole family around the table. The laughter. Her brothers, happy and carefree. Her mom singing “Leader of the Pack” along with the oldies station.
A totally different life, belonging to a girl she’d almost forgotten.
“Maddie?” Mitch’s voice, filled with concern, pulled her to the present. “Are you okay?”
The unexpected memory triggered the grief. The guilt. Throat tight, she gripped her mug and looked away from the cake. She needed a moment to pull herself together and then she’d be fine. She managed to grit out, “Great. Bathroom?”
Silence.
Maddie pressed her lips together and stared into the brown liquid swirling in her mug, praying he wouldn’t press. Unshed tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. All she needed was one minute alone to compose herself. Just one minute.
“Down the hall on the right,” he said, each word slow and deliberate.
Maddie nodded, pushed back her chair, and escaped.
Mitch stared after his runaway bride, wishing he could peer inside her brain and figure out what the hell had happened, but she remained as much a mystery to him as she had last night. Dragging a hand through his hair, he frowned at Gracie.
She pressed her lips together. “What set her off?”
“I have no idea,” Mitch said, turning his attention to the pastry Gracie had brought. Maddie had looked at it as though she’d seen a ghost.
“I like her,” Gracie said, the questions as clear as if she’d spoken them.
Mitch gave the woman he’d come to think of as a sister a level-eyed stare, keeping his mouth shut.
Gracie tilted her head to the side, sending her mop of blond curls flying. “How are you going to keep her?”
“She lives in Chicago. I’m not keeping her.” He was temporarily borrowing her until she decided to hightail it to her real life.
She gave a smug smile. “I meant keep her for now .”
Mitch scrubbed a hand over his jaw, contemplating. “I’m not sure she has any other options.”
“Don’t tell me you’re banking on that?” Gracie looked up to the ceiling as if exasperated by his complete stupidity. “A woman always has options, and she’ll think of plenty if you’re stupid enough to point out that she has to choose you by default.”
Of course, Gracie was right.
But he’d talked her into staying once; he could do it again. The question was, how? Mitch sat forward, placing his elbows on the table, his brain starting a slow, methodical spin. He took a sip of coffee and looked at Gracie. She practically danced in her chair.
He rolled his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
“The way I see it,” Gracie said, not letting grass grow under her feet with any long dramatic silences, “her car’s broken down, and Tommy’s is closed today. That buys you a couple of days.”
Immediately finding fault with her logic,
Mitch sat down across from her with a wide smile on his face. “How are you feeling this morning, Princess?”
Maddie nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Not too hungover?” He stretched his long legs under the table and leaned back in his chair. Maddie did her best to ignore the way his black T-shirt pulled tight over his flat abdomen.
“Nothing coffee and food won’t cure,” Maddie said, taking another sip as though to prove her point.
“Well, we’ve got that covered.” Gracie slid a golden concoction sprinkled with powdered sugar from the bakery box. “It’s Swedish flop. But I infused some raspberry into the cream.”
Out of nowhere, Maddie’s throat closed over and she had to blink back sudden, unexpected tears. Teeth clenched, she stared at the flaky pastry, which was overflowing with pink-tinged buttercream.
She hadn’t had Swedish flop in thirteen years. It had been a Sunday-morning tradition that ended when her dad died.
She remembered every detail of their last Sunday together. The sound of her dad’s voice as it echoed through the house. The whole family around the table. The laughter. Her brothers, happy and carefree. Her mom singing “Leader of the Pack” along with the oldies station.
A totally different life, belonging to a girl she’d almost forgotten.
“Maddie?” Mitch’s voice, filled with concern, pulled her to the present. “Are you okay?”
The unexpected memory triggered the grief. The guilt. Throat tight, she gripped her mug and looked away from the cake. She needed a moment to pull herself together and then she’d be fine. She managed to grit out, “Great. Bathroom?”
Silence.
Maddie pressed her lips together and stared into the brown liquid swirling in her mug, praying he wouldn’t press. Unshed tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. All she needed was one minute alone to compose herself. Just one minute.
“Down the hall on the right,” he said, each word slow and deliberate.
Maddie nodded, pushed back her chair, and escaped.
Mitch stared after his runaway bride, wishing he could peer inside her brain and figure out what the hell had happened, but she remained as much a mystery to him as she had last night. Dragging a hand through his hair, he frowned at Gracie.
She pressed her lips together. “What set her off?”
“I have no idea,” Mitch said, turning his attention to the pastry Gracie had brought. Maddie had looked at it as though she’d seen a ghost.
“I like her,” Gracie said, the questions as clear as if she’d spoken them.
Mitch gave the woman he’d come to think of as a sister a level-eyed stare, keeping his mouth shut.
Gracie tilted her head to the side, sending her mop of blond curls flying. “How are you going to keep her?”
“She lives in Chicago. I’m not keeping her.” He was temporarily borrowing her until she decided to hightail it to her real life.
She gave a smug smile. “I meant keep her for now .”
Mitch scrubbed a hand over his jaw, contemplating. “I’m not sure she has any other options.”
“Don’t tell me you’re banking on that?” Gracie looked up to the ceiling as if exasperated by his complete stupidity. “A woman always has options, and she’ll think of plenty if you’re stupid enough to point out that she has to choose you by default.”
Of course, Gracie was right.
But he’d talked her into staying once; he could do it again. The question was, how? Mitch sat forward, placing his elbows on the table, his brain starting a slow, methodical spin. He took a sip of coffee and looked at Gracie. She practically danced in her chair.
He rolled his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”
“The way I see it,” Gracie said, not letting grass grow under her feet with any long dramatic silences, “her car’s broken down, and Tommy’s is closed today. That buys you a couple of days.”
Immediately finding fault with her logic,
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