“Don’t judge him too harshly for that,” I reply, unbuttoning my baker’s smock. “He’s made my mother stop speaking to me for five blissful days, so he deserves free croinuts for life.”
“Don’t forget you’re doing him a favor too,” she says, side-eyeing me. “I don’t remember the last time you left the bakery early for a weekend.”
“I know.” I groan and shake my head. “You sure you’re going to be okay without me?”
“Zander and I got this!” She waves her hand. “You have business stuff to do anyway so it’s not like you were really going to be here.”
She’s right. These days, I work upstairs in my apartment while Rachael runs the bakery. I’d be lost without her.
Dean strides in looking crazy hot in gray shorts and a fitted dark Henley. His beard has grown out a bit since my parents’ party, and his dark hair flops over his forehead in an appealing way that makes me want to run my fingers through it.
I exhale and pull off my smock, revealing the outfit Rachael laid out for me: frayed white denim shorts and a heather green tank that makes my boobs look giant. Luckily, she let me put an unbuttoned plaid shirt over it, so I don’t feel like I’m trying too hard.
“Hey, sugar butt, you ready for a road trip?” Dean asks, sidling up to the counter and pulling his Ray-Bans off to reveal his brown-sugar eyes.
Rachael barks out a laugh at his endearment that we argued about via text message all week. Dean said if he wasn’t allowed some pet names, he wasn’t going to look like a good boyfriend. I submitted when he told me it would drive my mother insane.
Rachael points at Dean. “You better be good to her this weekend, Dean Moser. I know where you live.”
“You do?” he asks, his brows lifting.
She nods. “I got your address from Max…which means I can light your shit on fire if I hear you’ve done my girl dirty.”
Dean’s face falls. “Jesus…arson threats? I think you skipped a couple of steps there, Rachael.”
She pins him with a stern look, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
I roll my suitcase around the counter to join him, and he walks over to take it from me. His eyes flash to my chest before swerving down to my bag. “Is this everything?”
“I sure hope so,” I reply with a nervous grin. I was so busy trying to get some of my press stuff out of the way this morning that I had a packing emergency, and Rachael had to come rescue me. She ended up taking over, so I’m not entirely sure what she shoved in there. But she had the itinerary Dean sent over, so I hope she got everything.
“Let’s get out of town then.”
I grab the box of fresh croinuts I made for the weekend, and we load up quickly. Sliding into the passenger seat, I crack open my laptop and am already deep into my work before we leave Boulder city limits. I need to make good use of this drive if I’m going to screw off with Dean and his friends for a whole weekend. When is the last time I screwed off for a day, let alone a weekend?
The drive is quiet for the first couple of hours as I make my way through my long to-do list that Max gave me. When I look up and pop out my earbuds, Dean is listening to a podcast about birthmarks. Definitely not yacht rock. This is an even stranger choice, but I’m drawn into it, despite the mountain of emails I still need to reply to.
“This is so weird,” I state, finally succumbing to my interest.
“I know. It’s awesome,” Dean replies, staring forward and listening intently with an awestruck look on his face.
“Why do we care about this so much?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I have no idea.”
When we’re about an hour away from Aspen, I close my laptop to take in the mountainous view. We used to come here to ski a lot in the winter, so I’ve been on this drive a million times, but nothing compares to entire mountainsides covered with aspens changing colors in the fall. It’s impressive how I dream of living in Paris, but Colorado still manages to take my breath away even after all these years.
“So, are you done working finally?” Dean asks, his hand draped casually over the top of the steering wheel