The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane

“Her flight doesn’t arrive until 4:30. I’ll still get some work in. Anyway, want to ride shotgun?”

“Of course. You knew I would.”

She could hear the smile in her sister’s voice when she said, “Yes, I did. I’m glad she’s coming back.” Samantha added, “She belongs here.”

As far as Samantha was concerned, Icicle Falls was the center of the universe. She wasn’t a big-city kind of girl, and she’d never understood when Cecily moved away to start her business.

But she’d had to get out from under the shadow of Samantha Sterling, Super Achiever, and establish her own identity. Maybe it had been the same for Bailey.

Or it could have had something to do with Bailey’s best friends, the twins Mitsy and Bitsy, moving down there. They’d filled her head with dreams of riches and success and her eyes full of stars. Literally.

Cecily felt bad for her little sister. Bailey had hit L.A. with such high hopes, and they’d all been stomped to pieces.

It was a shame because Bailey was a kitchen queen. She’d always loved puttering in the kitchen with their mother, and Cecily could still remember her sister at the age of five, up on a stool, wearing an apron that was way too big for her and rolling out the leftover bits of piecrust Mom had given her. Not content to simply sprinkle them with cinnamon sugar, she’d experimented with everything from jam to taco seasoning. By the time she was in high school she was dreaming up her own cake and cookie recipes. Yes, when it came to creating in the kitchen, her sister was truly talented.

So were a lot of people in L.A., and many of them never made it. Bailey wouldn’t either now. At least not down there. But there was no reason she couldn’t come home and start a catering business in Icicle Falls. With Samantha and Blake close by to advise her on the business end of things, it was bound to be a success. Cecily decided to suggest that to her once she was done mourning the death of her caterer-to-the-stars dream.

Meanwhile, Cecily needed to choose what to wear. She finally settled on a short-sleeved black top and a black skirt with white polka dots. She put on heels and a pink pearl bracelet—a gift from her first fiancé—and was ready to go.

Her sensible self asked why she was bothering. She shouldn’t be making a habit of going out with Todd Black. She decided to ignore her sensible self, especially when Todd showed up at her door, handsome in Dockers and a blue polo shirt. Good Lord, if there was a more handsome man than this one, she didn’t know where he was.

“You look great,” he said, checking her out. “But then, you always do.”

She ignored that blatant flattery and stepped out the door. As they started down the building’s stairs to the parking lot, something occurred to her and she stopped. “I should change.”

“Don’t ever change. I like you just the way you are,” he teased.

“I can’t ride on a motorcycle in a skirt.”

“You won’t have to. Mom let me use the car tonight,” he joked as he nudged her to begin moving again.

“You have a car?”

“Well, okay, my truck. You okay with that?”

“Of course,” she said. What did he think she was, some sort of car snob?

“So,” he said as he climbed behind the wheel. “I hope you like action films. That’s what’s playing at the Falls Cinema.”

She preferred romantic comedies but said, “That’s fine.”

“That’s fine,” he repeated as he turned the key in the ignition. “Hmm. Chick speak for, ‘It’ll have to do.’”

“You sure know a lot about women,” she said.

He shot her a grin. “I know a few things.” Then he added, “But no man knows everything about women. That’s why we’re all so fascinated by you. You’re a never-ending mystery.”

Why did practically everything he said, every look he gave her, make her tingle? It was ridiculous, really, like being in middle school all over again. But the darn tingle was there, and thinking about the trouble it could cause made her nervous.

To cover her nerves, she gave a snort. “Has anyone ever told you you’re full of it?”

“A few people.”

“Were they all women?” she asked sweetly.

He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he nodded at the radio, where some hip-hop singer was reciting lyrics to the underlying hypnotic pulse of a bass. “Feel free to find something you like.”

“I’m surprised you’re not listening to country music,” she said, searching for a pop station.

“I listen to that, too. I like just about everything.”

“Well, that makes you easy to please.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized she’d handed him yet another opening for a double entendre.

His smile was positively sly. “I am.”

“I thought you said you had a serious side.”

“I do.”

“I’m not convinced. Tell me one thing you can be serious about.”

“Taxes. How’s that?”

“Impressive. That’s it?”

“Death and taxes.”

“How about relationships?”

“Those are pretty serious things, too.” He pulled up in front of Zelda’s, shut off the engine and turned to her. “You think I’m just looking for a hookup, don’t you?”

“That did cross my mind.”

“I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. Don’t you?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. Did she really want to risk a third heartbreak?

“Don’t worry. We’ll take it one kiss at a time,” he said and opened his door. She started to open hers. “Uh-uh,” he cautioned, reaching across the seat and stopping her. “My mama raised me to be a gentleman.”

“What happened?” Cecily retorted, but she waited for him to walk around and open the door for her.

“See,” he said, “I’m not a total Philistine.”

“How do you even know what a Philistine is?”

“Hey, I told you. My mama raised me right. I went to Sunday school.”

Cecily rolled her eyes and slipped out of the car.