Honey Pie (Cupcake Club) - By Donna Kauffman Page 0,41

and give the dog a reassuring rub between the ears. Dylan noted that she didn’t try to move out of the protective circle of his braced arms. He’d figure out later why the need to protect her was so instant and so strong. From what he’d pieced together so far, she’d been doing a pretty good job of protecting herself for some time, and had no trouble whatsoever telling him where to step off.

Morgan Westlake stepped into the dim yellow glow emanating from the security light behind Dylan. “Sorry, didn’t mean to cause such a ruckus.” If he was at all surprised to find the two of them in what had to look like . . . well, pretty much exactly what it was, his expression didn’t so much as flicker.

Morgan was a new transplant to Sugarberry, only on the island for about seven or eight months. He’d moved so his niece Lilly, who was in his sole custody following the death of her parents, would be closer to her maternal grandmother, who also lived on the island. He was also a lawyer, environmental stuff, as far as Dylan knew, and had hooked up with another new Sugarberry resident, Kit Bellamy, who was set to run the new bakery adjunct.

“What can I do for you?” Dylan asked.

“I was over at Babycakes, talking to Kit. When I left, I saw your truck was still in the alley, so thought I’d—oh.” He’d walked closer, and could clearly see the woman standing in front of Dylan. “Are you—”

“Honey D’Amourvell,” she said, then cleared a little lingering roughness from her throat. “Bea Chantrell’s niece. Yes.”

Dylan didn’t smile at the sound of that telltale roughness . . . but his body did the physical equivalent of one.

“Lani forgot to get your contact information when you spoke to her earlier today, so I was going to ask Mr. Ross here if he wouldn’t mind giving me your number. But as you’re here . . . I—”

“You’re the lawyer,” Honey said. “Kit’s . . .”

“Significant other,” Morgan finished easily, his smile more relaxed. He was a tall man, with dark hair and the kind of polished good looks that spoke of the wealthy family he came from. He was the kind of man women showed off to their girlfriends and took home to their mamas.

Whereas Dylan knew he was the one women came to after dark, when they wanted that walk on the wild side their mamas would never know about.

“I don’t really practice business law, but I’m trying to help them get their i’s dotted and t’s crossed before the opening. Lani tells me you inherited the building she’s leased for Babycakes?”

“Yes,” Honey said, pushing her glasses up. “I’m going over to the county courthouse in the morning to get the rest of the legal paperwork and . . . figure things out.”

Morgan walked around the back of the truck and fished his wallet from the back of his pants. He pulled out a business card, which Dylan reached out to take, so Honey wouldn’t have to come into direct contact.

Morgan’s gaze did take a split second pause between the two, but his smile remained even, smooth. “Why don’t you call me when you get back and we’ll figure out a time to sit down and go over everything. I’m sure we can get it all sorted out.”

Dylan felt Honey stiffen.

“Thank you,” she said. “Lani also said as much. I appreciate that. I’ll—call you tomorrow then.”

“Good, great. You folks have a good night.” Morgan turned and walked back toward Babycakes. He was quickly swallowed up in the dense gloom, but there was the sound of a car door being opened and closed a few moments later, followed by the engine starting. The brake lights sent red strobes across the alley as he backed out, then drove away.

Honey hadn’t moved. Neither had Dylan, but he knew she’d fully retreated, mentally, if not physically. No doubt the result of a douse of real world problems and dealing with yet another new person.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, but steadily.

“For?”

“Sticking by me. You didn’t need to take his card for me. But I appreciate that you thought to. Thank you.”

He dropped his other hand away from the truck, reached past her to ruffle Lolly’s ears, then stepped away, giving Honey back her space.

He’d be certain to play the entire day’s events through his mind a dozen or a hundred times later, trying to figure out how and why he’d gotten