Honey Pie (Cupcake Club) - By Donna Kauffman Page 0,57

is not your backup plan, darlin’, it’s your give up plan. That’s not the same thing.”

She considered him for several long moments. “How’d you get so smart?”

“Life is long. You learn from things. If you pay attention, then you make better choices next time, and you don’t have to learn them all over again.”

She let out a soft laugh at that. “I hear what you’re preaching . . . and I agree with the philosophy. Wholeheartedly. I just don’t know exactly what to do about it.” She held his gaze for several long moments, her expression bemused. In the end, it was the spark of hope his words had put in her eyes that told the story. She was going to stay. She was going to try.

And damn if that didn’t make him feel like he’d leaped over a building or two. Small ones, to be sure, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a might smug. Of course, what he should be, was scared spitless. Not thirty minutes ago, before she’d climbed back into his truck, he’d been quite relieved and happy at the prospect of her getting back in her old rattletrap car and driving out of Sugarberry forever. He should remember that, and likely would . . . later . . . when he wasn’t in the middle of the hormone-induced fog he seemed to descend into every time she got within five feet of him.

“You know what I think?” he asked.

Her lips twisted in a wry grin. “Only when you grab me when I’m off guard.”

It was his turn to bark out a surprised laugh. “Okay, maybe not quite that literally. What I think is that you don’t give yourself enough credit. You say you hide out, and maybe you have, but it wasn’t from being weak. It was an honest attempt to preserve your own mental well-being. Nothing unhealthy or weak about that.”

“So say you.”

“So I do say. We have different demons, sugar, but we’ve both chosen a path of least resistance, rather than one that constantly forces us to grapple with and overcome obstacles that don’t benefit anybody by being tackled. There’s a lot to be said for peaceful living.”

“So why are you trying to talk me into staying? You’ve been up close and personal with both of my ‘events’ since coming here. Nothing peaceful about them, obviously. And I don’t know what it’s going to take to figure out how to lease shop space with no operating capital, but I doubt it’s going to be smooth sailing, either.”

Hormone fog or not, Dylan was quite aware, without a single doubt in his mind, that very moment was the time to pull back, step out of her business once and for all, clear his head—and his body—and get back to his own business, his own life. He’d been her cheerleader for five whole minutes. If it helped to get her on the path to where she wanted to be, power to them both. But that needed to be the beginning and the end of it. Even Superman had his kryptonite and he was pretty damn sure she could be his.

He told himself to put the truck in gear and drive them back to Sugarberry, whereupon he would return to his life and leave her to hers, whatever course she decided to chart. So, naturally, he sat right there and asked, “If you could get the business space, think you could figure out how to handle the rest?”

“You mean like a place to live?”

He shook his head. “That’s not the hard part in all this, darlin’. Folks here’d find a way to help you out until you got on your feet. Lani Dunne might have a lease on your property, but I’m betting she feels pretty damn bad about leaving you homeless, unintentionally or not.”

“I don’t want anyone to house me out of pity or misplaced guilt.”

He stared at her, a little annoyed because he knew that would have been his exact response had the tables been turned, so he could hardly hold it against her. But what he said was, “A hand up isn’t the same as a hand out.”

“Easy to say, harder to accept.”

“Don’t I know it.” Most of the folks on Sugarberry had next to nothing good to say about the other members of the Ross family, and only pity for him for being born into it. But that hadn’t stopped them from trying to help him. Help

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