Bliss and the Art of Forever - Alison Kent Page 0,7
on her grandparents, and only did so when he had no choice.
Most workdays he kept her with him after school. Perk of being the boss. She had a desk of her own in the storeroom, and liked it better than sitting on a stool in the corner of the kitchen with her hair in a net while he worked, though she did that, too, telling him about her day, asking him about the candy, reminding him how boring his life would be without her. For the most part she was happy to entertain herself. And she let him know via intercom when she wasn’t.
She had books to read, and plenty of crayons and colored pencils, and yeah, she had a tablet PC and since four years old had known how to find what she wanted to watch on Netflix, how to play memory games with Disney princesses, or paint pictures with a touch of a finger. He wasn’t so proud about all of that, letting technology babysit.
But he hadn’t come to Hope Springs expecting his mother and his father to raise his little girl, even though he’d be in dire straits without them. Addy’s interesting situation—wasn’t that how Brooklyn had put it?—was his to deal with. Being a single father was hardly where he’d expected to find himself at thirty-four, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. It was a good life, this business of being a dad. And being a chocolatier wasn’t too shabby.
For the most part, his folks had forgiven him his past, and sooner or later he’d make his own peace with the things he’d done. Work kept him busy, and family took up the rest of his time. He hadn’t thought much about not having a woman in his life until today, and he’d done so pretty much at the moment he’d walked into his daughter’s classroom and seen Brooklyn Harvey sitting on the front of her desk, her legs crossed, all those curious wide eyes turned her way as she used giant Lego bricks to demonstrate fractions of wholes.
Who knew he had a thing for teachers? Or for this particular one anyway. He wanted to say he’d gone back this afternoon intending to thank her for having him . . . but that was a lie, and he knew it. He’d gone back because he wanted to see her again, to talk to her without an audience. To try and figure out why she’d looked at him as if she wanted to get him out of his clothes.
And why, after leaving, he’d been unable to erase the idea of her doing so out of his mind. That one’s simple, hotshot. All work and no play has made you a very dull boy.
He eased the bike to a stop behind the store and killed the engine, waiting for Brooklyn to climb down before kicking the stand into place. The small shopping center backed up to a private through street, across which were the rear entrances and employee parking lots for the Hope Springs Courant, the post office, and the Dollar General. Bliss sat between Butters Bakery and an empty space he’d heard had been leased for a coffee shop.
The location was great for him, and for the others; the stores on the adjoining blocks drove foot traffic past their front doors. Then again, traffic was less a concern for him than it would be for an espresso bar. He did more than ten times the online business he did with his storefront. And last he knew, Peggy Butters didn’t ship, though with his own success in doing so, he’d made his pitch to convince her there was a mint to be made.
“Why did you sign up for story hour today when this is such a busy time for you?” It was the first thing Brooklyn said after pulling off the helmet and shaking out her hair.
“Because I make candy and it seemed appropriate?” The truth was his mother had filled out the form. He’d learned of the obligation when Brooklyn had e-mailed to confirm with a list of instructions. Not that he would’ve backed out; Addy was too excited. He just wished his mother had asked him whether or not he could make time to go.
“Appropriate, maybe,” she said, following him to the back door. “But not exactly business smart.”
“Yeah, well. What can I say?” He stopped flipping through the keys on his ring and held up his pinkie. “Addy loves Valentine’s Day. And Addy’s