The Bakeshop at Pumpkin and Spice Page 12

  “That’s . . . adorable,” she said, then turned back to the small bungalow. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but, well, she still didn’t know what she expected.

  The house wasn’t very big, but the tidy clapboard siding was a freshly painted white, and the shaker roof shingles looked new as well. There was a stone pathway leading to the front door, with a row of little night-lights on either side. Neatly trimmed shrubbery lined the front and sides of the house, kept in order by the white scallop brick trim fronting the beds. The mailbox was a cheerful red, which matched the front door. Neat black shutters with wrought-iron clasps framed the door and the windows, finishing off the look.

  She turned back to Caleb. “Is this a bed-and-breakfast?” She didn’t see a sign.

  “Well, it does have a bed, and I am planning on making you breakfast,” he said with a grin. “Does that count?”

  She laughed, still confused, and said, “Sure.”

  “Come on, I want to show you inside.” He took her hand and they walked up the path to the front door. He took a key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door and the deadbolt, then swung the door open and gestured for her to enter first.

  He has a key? Totally flummoxed now, Bree decided to just go with it and stepped into the tiny foyer. And felt utter bemusement all over again. So, not a bed-and-breakfast. At least not at the moment. The interior of the place had also been freshly painted, the hardwood floors gleamed, and the sun shone brightly through sparkling clean windows. The layout was interesting, with open rooms and cool little niches, the door to the kitchen that she could see down the hall was an archway, and there was a fat, wood-burning stove in the far corner of the main room, presently chugging away. All of which was very charming. But save for that and a sign propped up facing the coat closet door, the whole house was completely empty.

  She turned back to Caleb, then stilled and turned back to glance again at the sign. A real-estate sign. She swung her gaze back to him, eyes wide. “Did you—you didn’t buy—”

  He shook his head and she didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or disappointment.

  “I rented it,” he said, and lifted his eyebrows and his shoulders, as if he was just as surprised by that as she was. “I haven’t done anything with it, obviously, except in here, and upstairs.” He took her hand and led her still-stunned self down the short hallway to the kitchen, where she got another little surprise. A small kitchen table with an inlaid tile top and two matching wooden chairs were perched by the bay window that looked over a rambling and spacious backyard. It was the view beyond that had earned the gasp. She could see the ocean. “Oh, Caleb,” she said, “what a beautiful view.”

  He stepped around her and opened the fridge, which was fully stocked. “I just got the basics as far as cutlery and dishware, some cooking supplies, but we’ll eat well.”

  She still wasn’t processing all of this yet. “You’re cooking me dinner? Here?”

  “And breakfast,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  She smiled. “That takes care of one of the Bs,” she said. “But while I can well imagine, given how long we’ve waited, that the tile table and maybe that countertop could see some recreational use that they weren’t exactly intended for”—she turned to face him, her smile wry now—“I draw the line at our first time being on a hardwood floor. That potbelly stove will only go so far to making things cozy.”

  “I promise, no hardwood floors will be used for sleeping surfaces.” The corner of his mouth curved. “However, I retain the right for other usages as we are so inspired.” She laughed at that and Caleb walked up to her and pulled her into his arms. Their banter was fairly typical of the way they’d been teasing each other for weeks, so neither of them was shocked by it. A little turned-on, maybe, if the slight fog on his glasses meant anything.

  She slid them off and set them on the counter, then tipped up on her toes to kiss him.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, catching her mouth again, then again.

  “For dinner?” She smiled, then shook her head.

  “Then allow me to show you the rest of our accommodations.” He led her up the hardwood stairs to the second level. The two front rooms were small, with dormer windows and slanted ceilings. A bathroom was at the far end of the hall. He opened the double doors on the other side of the hall and swung them wide.

  “Oh . . . my,” Bree breathed, and walked into the room as if drawn inside. The master bedroom took up the full back half of the second floor. She saw a door that led to the master bath and another that looked like it led to a large, walk-in closet. There was indeed a bed, a big, wide one, with a thick white duvet on top, and an array of pillows, also in white linen cases. There was a braided rug covering part of the rich, golden oak flooring, but none of those things were what had drawn her in. The back wall of the room was a series of sliding doors that led to a deep, covered deck. And at this level, there was an unobstructed view of the Atlantic.

  She walked out onto the deck and simply stood there and took it in. “Wow.”

  Caleb joined her. “Yeah, this was pretty much when I handed the real-estate agent the check.”

  “Boom,” Bree said.

  “It felt like a boom,” he agreed, and they both laughed.

  She turned back to the view. “I don’t think I’d ever get tired of looking at this.”

  Caleb took her hand and brought her around to face him. “That’s exactly what I thought the moment I saw it.” He reached up and touched her cheek, caught the strands of hair that the breeze had lifted into a dance, and tucked them behind her ear. “That’s exactly how I felt when I first saw you.”

  Her heart, which had long since tilted and fallen headlong at his feet, dipped and swooned again. He did that to her often. She would never get tired of it, either. “And here I thought it was the cookie that was your love at first sight.” She’d been more open about such things after her talk with Sofia that day, weeks back. She didn’t freeze up when he mentioned magic anymore, and he hadn’t asked her again to tell him what had been bothering her back then, either.

  She suspected he would realize there was possibly a bit more to her than met the eye soon enough. She knew him well enough now to know he’d be charmed by it, most likely, and definitely curious. She could live with that. What she couldn’t live without was him.

  “Not the cookie,” he said, looking into her eyes. “That was most definitely you.”

  Her heart was caught then and held. The words had been there, on the tip of her tongue, dozens of times, but she hadn’t said them. Neither had he. Until now. “That’s pretty convenient,” she said, searching his eyes, loving what she saw there. “Because that’s the exact same thing I’ve been thinking about you.”

  His smile was slow, and sexy, and filled with so many promises. All of which she knew he would keep. She wanted to make him some of her own.

  “Speaking of thinking,” she told him, “I was hoping to talk to you tonight. About Philadelphia.” Given the whole house rental, she wasn’t sure where they were headed at the moment, but she wanted him to know her thoughts anyway.

  His eyebrows lifted at that. “You were?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been talking with Cassi, about Thanksgiving.”

  Caleb’s eyes went from surprised to worried. “Honey, that is a lovely, wonderful gesture, but it’s like making your very first football game the Super Bowl. I was thinking we’d ease in a bit—”

  “I’ve been meeting new members of your family for weeks at Castellanos. How many more could there be?” At the look on his face, her mouth went a little slack. “That many, huh?”

  “Maybe I should tell you my plan. About this place,” he said. “And us.”

  “That’s sounding like it might be the better deal at the moment,” she said with a laugh. “Although I do want to go to Philadelphia,” she added. “I even sat down with Sofia and started to work on a business plan that would let us possibly hire part-time help on a regular,
ongoing basis, and a baker—who I would personally train—so I could spend stretches of time with you there. I haven’t figured out a full-time solution, and . . . I don’t know how I feel about that yet.” She smiled brightly. “But I’m thinking that Philadelphia can be my new Italy. Only in stages.” She’d planned to lay this all out over dinner, before they went to bed together, but when had anything they’d done gone according to plan? “I figure, like Italy, I have to go there and experience it, live it, before I can make any long-term decisions. I know I want to keep Bellaluna’s in the family, so that’s tricky, but . . . I want to figure it out. For you. For us.” Her smile turned hopeful and more than a little nervous. “I hope that’s a good start?”

  “That is . . . wonderful,” he said. “And if I didn’t already know that I love you, that . . .” He trailed off and shook his head, looking more than a little stunned by her news. “Thank you,” he said, and drew her to him for a long, impossibly tender kiss. When he lifted his head, he said, “I’ve been thinking, too. And I might have an even better start for us in mind.”

  And with that, he bent on one knee and knelt before her.

  Bree’s hands flew to her mouth. She’d hoped, one day, for this very moment. “Caleb,” she whispered, stunned. She hadn’t expected it to be today.

  He drew a small box from his jacket pocket. “I don’t know where this crazy path we’ve started will take us, and it’s quite possible I want to get this ring on your finger before you meet my family and run for the hills,” he added, a crooked smile on his handsome, beloved face. “No matter what plans we make, life will throw curveballs. The biggest one I’ve had yet brought me to this little town, and to you. I could never have seen that coming, and now I can’t imagine my life if it hadn’t. I love you, Abriana Bellaluna O’Neill. More than I thought I could love anyone, or anything. And all the rest, my family, my home, my work, wouldn’t be the same now if I couldn’t share it with you.”

  “Oh,” she said, and felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes. “Caleb,” she whispered.

  He stood then and took her hands in both of his, placing the small box on her palms, then curling his hands around hers, holding them both tight. He held her gaze, and said, “I’ve been making plans, too. This town is growing on me.” He smiled then. “And heck, half my family is up here now, so it’s like a home away from home already.”

  She let out a short laugh at that, even as she felt her legs start to tremble.

  “George will be taking care of Alethea at home for a very extended time, and her prognosis, while really hopeful, is still a long way from being certain. So various members of the Dimitriou and Castellanos brood will be coming and going from here for as long as it takes. We’ll be doing what we can to keep that Moonbright landmark open for business and make sure George keeps his livelihood, and his good name.” His smile spread to a grin. “I’ve kind of enjoyed getting to boss my family around a bit, but we’ve got it planned out now so that we can all help George, but still each tackle the jobs we’re trained to do. Which means I’ll be back in the kitchen.” He sighed. “And I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.” He gestured to the house. “I’m also done bunking with my cousins. I was going to ask you to come look with me and tell you all of this, but then this place popped up and I swung by and well . . .” He gestured to the view. “So, I signed a lease before someone else did, but if you—”

  Bree just shook her head. “I love it. It’s perfect.” She thought her heart couldn’t swell any further. She’d been wrong. “That is such a lovely thing you all are doing for your family, for George and Alethea,” she said, and pulled her hands free so she could wrap her arms around him and hug him tight. When she let go, she lifted the ring box between them, then looked him in the eyes. “Caleb Vasilios Dimitriou,” she began, then wiggled her eyebrows when his lifted in surprise at her use of his middle name, “you are my lovely thing. You are the reason I am smiling when I wake up, and when I go to sleep, and countless, countless times all through every one of my days.” She looked up into his eyes. “I would follow you anywhere. When this is all said and done with George and Alethea, we will figure out our next adventure, make those decisions then.”

  “There’s one decision I’d like to ask you to make right now,” he said, then opened the box. “With my grandmother’s ring, a woman who would have loved you every bit as much as I do, Abriana O’Neill, will you be my wife?”

  She was already nodding. “Easiest decision I’ll ever make,” she said on a watery laugh.

  He slid the ring on her shaking finger—his weren’t all that steady, either—then picked her up, despite her protestations, and carried her in to the bed.

  This time he didn’t pause, and they didn’t suddenly decide to wait, or talk into the wee hours of the night instead. They did take their time, reveling in each touch, every new discovery, undressing each other slowly, gasping with delight and laughing together, too. Then he was rolling her to her back, and she felt the glorious weight of his body on top of hers. Their gazes locked on one another, and he pushed deep inside her for the first time. There you are, she thought. Finally.

  We’re home.

  Epilogue

  Bree adjusted her Betty Boop costume and checked her bright red lipstick in the mirror, then tugged her wig to make sure it was on securely before stepping out of Sofia’s office and into the kitchen.

  Caleb had taken one look at her costume and her painted lips and almost hadn’t let her leave the bungalow. She’d almost let him get away with it. But he had a Cadillac he needed to drive so he could chauffer a very surprising Pumpkin Festival Queen in for the annual parade, and Bree had some very special Italian iced cookies to bake.

  Bree had planned a completely different costume for the festivities this year, but she’d come to realize that Caleb had a thing for the shape of her mouth, so she’d decided to tease him a little bit. She was sure they’d both be very happy with her decision later that night.

  She made one last tug on the snug fit of her skirt, then started toward the door to the front of the shop. She and Sofia had decided that this year they were going to do all their baking for the shop beforehand, and when they ran out, they ran out. The CLOSED sign would get turned, and they’d both be free to enjoy the rest of the festivities. That meant Bree would be working the front counter the whole evening, and she was kind of looking forward to it this year. Because it was her tray of iced Italian cookies that was presently tucked under the display case in their special drawer.

  She’d barely made it behind the counter to ring up her first sale, when a towering, broad-shouldered gentleman walked in, dressed in a Clark Kent suit, complete with hat and horned rim glasses. He looked around, as if searching for someone, but without any luck. Clearly disappointed, he waited a minute, checked his watch, then turned to leave. Bree happened to glance toward the back of the shop at that moment and noticed a woman with dark shoulder-length hair had just stepped out of the ladies’ room. No way, Bree thought. It can’t be that easy. The brunette was dressed as Wonder Woman.

  Bree saw the woman catch sight of the man as he turned to leave. She opened her mouth, as if she might call out for him, but then changed her mind. Bree hadn’t missed the way she’d looked at him, though. I know that look. Without even having to think about it, she grabbed her tray of cookies and slid out from behind the counter, stopping Clark Kent before he could walk out the door.

  “I’ve been working on a new recipe,” she told him, gently placing her hand on his arm. “Won’t you try one? On the house.”

  He looked as if he were going to politely decline, but Bree picked up one from the tray and offered it to him. “Honest opinion,” she asked, and took hold of his arm when he accepted the cookie, easing him around in the guise of keeping him from blocking the doorway.

  “Sure,” he said, sounding distracted. “Happy to.” He didn’t seem at all happy to, but he did the polite thing and sank his teeth into the soft cookie . . . at the sa
me exact moment he made direct eye contact with Wonder Woman.

  He finished his bite, then polished off the rest. And all the while the pair only had eyes for each other. Without looking at Bree, he said, “Keeper,” then walked directly to Wonder Woman.

  Bree couldn’t see Clark’s face, or hear what he said, but Wonder Woman’s tentative expression immediately split into a blinding smile. Bree wanted to go pull up a chair at their table and get a front-row seat to what was about to unfold. Her first match!

  The shop was bustling, though, and she had customers waiting. She took another second to just stand there with a pleased expression on her face as Clark and his superhero clasped hands on top of the table.

  Nodding in satisfaction, and not a little thrilled, Bree turned, tray in hand, only to find Caleb standing in the doorway leading from the kitchen to the shop front. Her eyes widened appreciatively. She wasn’t the only one who’d made a last-minute costume change, it seemed. He’d mentioned something about going as the Lone Ranger, but instead, she was looking at a fully rigged-out pirate. Johnny Depp, eat your heart out.

  She walked immediately to him and went up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

  “If you put those lips on any part of me, my lovely,” he said, in seductively deep, but absolutely terrible Greek-pirate accent, “I won’t be responsible for me actions.”

  “Promise?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and pursing her lips.

  His eyes flared and for a second she wasn’t too sure he wasn’t going to push her up against the nearest wall. And she wasn’t too sure she might not let him. Then his gaze dipped to the tray she held in her hand and he did a double take. “Are those . . . ?”

  She nodded but lifted the tray away. “Special order,” she told him, and turned to put them back in the drawer under the display case.

  From where he stood, Caleb could see where she’d put them. He glanced at her, then at Clark and Wonder Woman, who’d just risen from their table and were heading to the door, hand in hand, then at where she’d stowed the cookies, then finally back at her. Clearly, he’d been in the doorway long enough to have watched her little maneuver with Clark and the cookie. She smiled brightly at him but said nothing. He’d figure it out over time.