Honey Pie (Cupcake Club) - By Donna Kauffman Page 0,34

Except what happened with Dylan was far, far worse than that last time. Maybe burying the curse for so long had made it come out more strongly. Maybe it was because she was older, no longer a naïve kid who thought leaving Juniper Hollow to go off to art school would somehow make the curse go away . . . or diminish it. As if subjecting herself to so many people, all at once would simply short circuit the whole thing. Only it hadn’t exactly turned out like that then.

And it certainly hadn’t now.

“I know . . . you think I’m crazy—” She held up her hand to stall any reply, took a deep breath, and forced herself to look at him, almost nauseous with the fear that she’d go rocketing back to that place. It balled her still shaky stomach up in a queasy knot. Only, she didn’t spin back. She stayed right where she was, fully in the present.

To her stunned shock, he smiled, though concern for her was still clear in his gray eyes. “Well, sugar, when I said a little crazy was a good thing, maybe I wasn’t talking about this.”

To her complete and utter amazement, she spluttered out a choked laugh. “Yeah, well . . .” She started to tremble again, but in overwhelming relief. She was okay. She’d made it through. It had passed. And Dylan didn’t seem any the worse for wear. Well, other than he surely wanted her gone as quickly as possible, but that she could deal with. She wanted to be gone, too.

“Honey,” he began, and lifted his hands, palms out, to reassure her he wasn’t going to invade any more of her personal space than he already occupied. “I get that, whatever it is, you can’t control it.”

She shook her head, and then felt the surprising sting of tears, again. It was a reflex from the sudden release of stress.

“No, no. No more tears,” he said.

Maybe it was the slightly panicky edge to those words, the realization that this big, bad wolf of a guy could handle her total out-of-body experience with barely a blink, only to be shaken by the threat of weepy girly tears, that somehow gave her that added edge she needed to take another step toward regaining control.

“Trust me,” she said, with an inelegant sniffle. “I’d really rather not, either.” She took another deep, shuddering breath, looked away from him once again, and gathered in the ragged edges. “Honestly,” she said, as she grew steadier and the threat of tears finally dimmed, “I do thank you. For trying. For wanting to help. I know you don’t get it, and you’re probably thinking thank God for that.”

She scrubbed her face, pushed her hair back, and lifted her chin once more. “Most folks would have freaked out. Or gotten angry.”

“Well, it did kind of freak me out, sugar. I won’t lie. But it didn’t make me mad. It’s not like you were doing it on purpose.”

She expected to see it then, the pity, the relief, the “thank goodness it’s her and not me.” Or even the “I hope it’s not contagious” look of concern. But there was none of that. He didn’t seem to be thinking of himself at all, but more sincerely concerned with getting her back to rights again.

“Let’s finish loading your stuff,” he suggested. “Better yet, why don’t I take you to the B&B with what we’ve got, let you get some rest. I’ll bring the rest of the stuff by in the morning.”

He was back to sounding like the guy talking gently to the crazy chick so she wouldn’t freak out again, but it was more than she deserved. She owed him, even if he’d been the one to trigger the episode in the first place. That was hardly his fault.

She should be thanking him for that, too. At least, now she knew what she was up against. And that there was no way in hell that any kind of life, or friendships, much less an intimate relationship was possible. “Thanks. But . . . just leave it in there. I-I’m not staying. I won’t bother you again, so you don’t have to worry about . . . you know. The crazy chick stuff. Just let me or Mrs. Hughes know when the car is ready.”

She made herself look at him again, made herself smile, though she didn’t think he bought it.

“All right” was all he said. He took a step back and