Drive Me Wild - Melanie Harlow Page 0,46

I went back into the bay and asked Andy for his girlfriend’s contact information so I could get in touch regarding a new logo and website design. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon at the desk, dedicating every spare moment I had to the renovation and the grand reopening event. Several people came in inquiring about the scones, and I had to tell them we were all out but to please come back tomorrow—I was planning to make lemon lavender shortbread. At the market this morning, I’d purchased lavender from the local farm, and I couldn’t wait to use it.

But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the encouragement Griffin had given me, and it warmed my heart every time.

Darlene was right—Griffin would have made an excellent husband and dad. Oh sure, that temper would get the better of him when his sixteen-year-old daughter broke curfew or his seventeen-year-old son tried refusing to stack the tires, but at heart he was kind and patient. He was generous. He didn’t like relying on other people, but he knew how to put them first.

Why was he so determined to be alone?

The question grabbed ahold of me and refused to let go.

Around quarter to seven, Cheyenne texted that she’d pulled up in front. Grabbing my bag, I called au revoir to Bisou and hurried out to meet her.

“Hi,” I said breathlessly after jumping into her car. “Thanks so much for picking me up.”

“No problem!” She gave me a grin. “I figured you wouldn’t want to spend two hours at the field watching a bunch of old men play catch and thump their chests.”

I laughed. “I appreciate it. I love your hair, by the way. It’s so cute.”

“Thanks. I was in desperate need of a trim. And you gotta love a good blowout.”

“I hear you. In my old life, I used to get my hair blown out like twice a week.” I shook my head. “Now it seems like such an extravagance.”

“Wow. Twice a week?”

“Yeah.” I was kind of embarrassed to admit it now. “Wish I could get that money back.”

“So you’re saving to open a bakery?”

“Eventually. That’s my ultimate goal.”

“And my mom said you’re moving up near Cloverleigh Farms? That is, if she can’t convince you that the entire Leelenau Peninsula is plagued by murder hornets, hurricanes, and malaria—and oh, it’s going to sink into Lake Michigan any day now. Don’t you think you’d be better off right here in Bellamy Creek? Married to her son and giving her grandchildren?”

I laughed. “I think that’s what she has in mind, yes.”

Cheyenne sighed as she turned into the Bellamy Creek High School parking lot. “I love her to death and she’s my mom, but she can drive a person plumb crazy. Just ignore her.”

“It’s okay. She makes me laugh, and she’s been really kind to me. Your whole family has. The whole town has, actually. I can’t tell you how many people came in to introduce themselves today.”

Cheyenne pulled into an empty spot. “Bellamy Creek is a friendly town, but you’ve also sparked a lot of curiosity. We’re used to the same people in the same places, or tourists coming through. We’re not used to beautiful, mysterious women in wedding dresses who charm one of the town’s most stubborn bachelors and bake like dear, departed Betty Frankel.”

“God, that dress.” I laughed ruefully as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I thought it would bring me good luck in my new life. So far it’s been nothing but disaster!”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Cheyenne said as we walked toward the field. “I mean, things could have been worse, right? You could have blown that tire on the highway outside town.”

“True.”

“What were you doing in Bellamy Creek, anyway, if you were trying to get to Cloverleigh Farms?”

“I saw the billboard on the highway about the best apple pie in the Midwest since 1957,” I told her, shaking my head. “Of course, now I know that pie doesn’t exist anymore, but that’s what made me turn off the road and come here.”

“So it was fate!”

I laughed as we climbed the bleachers. “You sound like your mom. It was more my sweet tooth—I love me some apple pie. I’m not even sure I believe in fate.”

“Why not?” she asked as we found seats about four rows up. The stands were surprisingly crowded—with families, couples, groups of friends. Attending old man baseball games was obviously a popular thing to do on a summer night around here.

“I