Delivering History (The Freehope Series Book 4) Page 2

  Lincoln Greene was their numbers guy. Dylan’s office was right next to Lincoln’s and they tended to have a lot of back and forth during a regular work day. Dylan negotiated the numbers Lincoln set forth and they kept a close eye on each other. Lincoln was quiet in a way that the rest of them weren’t. He was watchful and observant, somewhat closed off. Dylan also knew that Lincoln held a torch for a woman so far out of his reach that it wasn’t even in the same hemisphere. He hadn’t ever said anything about it but Dylan knew damn well Lincoln still loved her. Even if she was a one-woman wrecking ball and Brady’s sister.

  Brady Charles was their resident playboy. He was the schmoozer who brought in new clients, day after day. He was absolutely ruthless in his pursuit of new money, but did it all under the guise of a charming boyish smile. Most clients never noticed that he’d steered them exactly where he’d wanted them, bringing their money into the firm. He made it seem like it was their idea all along and he was just along for the ride. He was a good guy who liked to play fast and loose with everything that he did, including women. He left a string of broken hearts across the city on any given day of the week.

  It was a wonder there was anyone left for him to play with.

  Grant Harrison was their contract guy. He knew finance law inside and out, his Harvard law degree in use at all times. He was the final word on everything they did. Every dime they took home was approved by Grant. Every client they signed, every employee they hired, every day off they took, all went through Grant.

  “What the hell has you looking so impressed with yourself?” Lincoln asked curiously as Dylan strolled into the office that morning.

  “I may or may not have bought a beautiful woman coffee this morning.”

  Lincoln raised a brow. “And this beautiful woman? What’s her name?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Not sure yet. I’ll get to that next week.”

  Brady laughed as he strolled into Dylan’s office. “Going for the old slow play, huh?”

  Dylan kept his face bland. Heaven forbid Brady think there was any kind of challenge to be had.

  “I’m not going for any play,” he admitted to his friends. “Just testing the waters before I get in.”

  “Been a while since you’ve been in the pool,” Brady pointed out, keeping the analogy going.

  It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. The social scene in Boston was totally played out; his parents and his friend’s parents had their fingers in everything. Every date was a setup; every woman no more than a family name and connection. The whole thing reeked of old money and annoyed the hell out of all of them.

  Most of the women felt the same, a lot of them dropping out of sight and bucking the old ways.

  Dylan’s last girlfriend had been nice enough, someone he’d met through his parents. She’d been easy to lead around and show off, but she’d been boring as hell. She’d done nothing but agree with everything he said, smiling like she didn’t have an actual brain in her head.

  He didn’t want a yes woman. He wanted someone who would go toe to toe with him when the stakes were high.

  He wanted someone who knew what they wanted and knew how to fight for it.

  He thought about his Bad Girl from the coffee shop and quirked a smile.

  “She might be worth wading back in for,” he admitted tentatively.

  “Who’s wading where?” Grant asked, blowing into Dylan’s office with a stack of papers under his arm. He looked to Dylan as he passed out folders to everyone.

  “Dylan fell in love with a woman at the coffee shop and is wading back into the dating pool,” Brady said.

  Dylan held up his hands. “I bought a woman a cup of coffee this morning,” he corrected. “She might be worth wading back in.”

  Grant shot a look at Brady. “You’re an asshole.”

  Brady shrugged. “I know.”

  “Can we work now?” Grant asked. “Or do you all have some gossiping left to do?”

  Alex smiled to herself as she kneaded the dough for her new monkey-bread muffins.

  She didn’t know who he was but he’d certainly made an impression on her. Neat blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a tall, wide build, and she’d nearly melted into the floor in Boston Beans when he’d offered up her coffee.

  Her coffee. She’d nearly swooned.

  Instead, she’d put on her flirting cap and gone to work. He’d sent her plenty of signals, letting her know he was interested, so she’d done the same.

  He said he’d be there when she dropped off the following week, and she was going to make him the best chocolate croissants she could muster. Hell, croissants were her specialty. She could make them in her sleep.

  She’d already started on the ones she was making for him, deciding to make him his own basket instead of selling them to Boston Beans and making him buy one. She considered putting her business card in the basket but wanted to keep playing their game.

  She imagined them not exchanging names, just meeting and flirting for weeks.

  Seemed unrealistic as she didn’t have that kind of self-restraint, but it was a cute idea, nonetheless. They’d meet, flirt some, have coffee, then go their separate ways. For weeks, just meeting and getting to know each other a little, before finally exchanging names.

  Alex shook her head at the silliness of it, kneading and kneading before covering the dough and setting it aside to let it rise.

  Her niece Jenna was swinging by to visit, Wednesday afternoons the only time she had free. Now that she could drive, Jenna was in and out so much Alex barely saw her. The visits were precious and she was glad they still took the time.

  Hell, in a few years she’d be off to college and everything would change then.

  Secretly, she wasn’t sure how Andy would manage. Her twin sister had spent so long being Jenna’s mom every second, Alex wasn’t sure what she’d do when that role was gone day in and day out. As it was, she was struggling with not having to be there at every turn.

  Owen was doing a good job distracting her, but Alex knew her sister was struggling.

  “Auntie Alex?” Jenna’s voice floated in from the little living room of her house.

  “In the kitchen!”

  “Where else?” Jenna said on a laugh, striding into the room, every cell in her being radiating confidence.

  And why wouldn’t it? The girl was a knockout. Owen would need eyes in the back of his head to keep up with her and the boys that were already beating down her door. She was taller, far taller than any of the other Walker women had made it. She got that from Owen. So far, she’d hit five feet, eight inches, towering over the rest of them.

  Her hair and eyes matched her father’s, both a deep chestnut, but her face looked just like her mother and in turn, her Aunt Alex, as well. She’d gotten her braces off the year before, and in the blink of an eye went from an awkward preteen to a full-blown teenager.

  She thought about the baby growing inside of her—Beth and Logan’s baby, that would soon be living and breathing on this earth. Someday, he or she would go through the same changes, and it would be just as mind-blowing, just as poignant.

  “Alex?” Jenna asked. “You okay?”

  Alex looked at her niece, startled that she’d gone off on such a tangent.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “You’re crying,” Jenna pointed out. “Again.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said without heat. “It’s these stupid hormones.”

  Jenna nodded sagely, as if she had any idea what it might be like. “How are you feeling? Mom said you were pretty sick.”

  “They tell me that throwing up like Linda Blair is normal.”

  “Who’s Linda Blair?” Jenna asked.

  Annoyed, Alex sent her niece a droll look. “You haven’t seen The Exorcist yet?” Jenna shook her head. “What are your parents teaching you?”

  Jenna smiled and headed to the sink to wash her hands. “What are we making?”

  “Chocolate croissants.”

  �
��Yum. I thought you said you weren’t making those anymore. Said the chocolate was crap and you refused to buy it.”

  Yes, she had said that, and the chocolate was crap, in her opinion, but if the handsome devil that bought her coffee wanted them, then crap chocolate or not, he was going to get them.

  “I did say that,” she conceded. “But someone asked me to make them and I said yes.”

  “Who?”

  It was an innocent enough question but Alex had kept her little coffee hunk a secret from her sisters, and she knew the minute she told Jenna, they’d all know.

  “I won’t tell,” Jenna said, interrupting her train of thought. “I can keep a secret.”

  Alex considered her niece, old enough now to understand what it meant to keep someone’s confidence. It wasn’t a life or death secret, just something she wasn’t ready to share yet. If Jenna did spill the beans, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just annoying.

  “I met a man the other day when I was dropping off at Boston Beans. He asked about the chocolate croissants and I told him I’d make him some.”

  Jenna’s eyebrows popped up. “A man, huh? What’d he look like?”

  “Like Thor and Captain America’s baby, dressed in a suit and holding my favorite coffee,” Alex answered right away, then went on a quick fishing expedition. “What’s your boyfriend look like?”

  When her niece’s cheeks pinked, Alex knew she was onto something.

  “I can keep a secret.” She threw Jenna’s words back at her.

  Jenna looked around, like she was worried someone might walk in on them at any second. When she didn’t find anyone there, she turned to her aunt.

  “You wouldn’t know him,” Jenna said hesitantly.

  “What’s he like?” Alex asked, pushing forward.

  “Smart,” Jenna answered right away.

  “Cute? Funny?”

  Jenna hesitated. “Handsome. Cool, I guess.”

  “You guess? Cool as in, James Dean?”

  “We just talk sometimes, really. He’s not mine or anything,” Jenna said with a shrug.

  “But you want him to be,” Alex noted. “When I asked about a boyfriend, he’s the one you thought of first.”

  “He doesn’t like me like that. He says I’m too young.”

  Alex silently agreed and regretted the hell out of promising to keep this information secret from Andy and Owen.

  “Are you?” Alex asked. “Too young?”

  Jenna just rolled a shoulder again, avoiding Alex’s eyes.

  “Well, sometimes time has a way of knowing what’s best for us. What’s too young one day is too old another. Just give it time, J. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

  Thoughtful now, Jenna began rolling out the dough for pecan sticky buns without having to ask what needed to be done. She was a natural-born baker, but Alex wouldn’t push her. Jenna was also a natural-born athlete and scholar. The kid had a bright future, no matter where life led her.

  “Do you think helping Auntie Beth and Logan have a baby was meant to be?”

  Grabbing the mixing bowl that held the filling for the pecan rolls, Alex began spread it on the dough, thinking on Jenna’s question.

  Was having a baby for Beth meant to be? Alex had never been sure having kids was for her. She loved Jenna with every fiber if her being, loved being an aunt with a passion, but was being a parent for her? She’d never thought so, but she was able to if she wanted, which was a shame when she thought of someone like Beth, who wanted a baby so badly but couldn’t do it.

  So, she’d offered to help her sister because no matter where they’d been in life, no matter the distance, she loved Beth with a ferocity that was reserved for her siblings.

  “I do,” she said finally. “I think Beth needed me and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my family. I think I was meant to stay here in Freehope with you and your mom, waiting for your dad to come back home. I think I was meant to stay with Grandpa after Grandma died, to keep him company until he found his footing again.”

  “Do you think Mr. Coffee is your future? What you’ve been waiting for?”

  Alex barked out a laugh and pulled a face. “I’m not waiting for any man to complete my life, J. You’ve gotta know that. You’re the only one that can make your life what you want it to be. My next step is getting my own shop open or getting the pastry catering thing big enough to sustain itself. If Mr. Coffee was along for the ride, that’s one thing, but I’m certainly not counting on him to the be the one that completes me. For that, I’m counting on me and me alone.”

  He was waiting for her when she got to Boston Beans on Thursday morning.

  Still wearing a black suit, though today his tie was blue against his white shirt. His blond hair was combed to the side and he stood there, his dark eyes smiling as he held onto two paper coffee cups.

  He was quick though. The second he saw her struggle to open the door, he hurried over, set the cups on a table, and took the basket from her hands.

  “Thanks,” she said with a smile.

  “Anytime.” His voice was smooth and rich, not overly deep or gravelly. “What can I do to help?”

  “Um…” Alex looked around and pointed to the counter. “Just put it over by the display and I’ll put everything out.” She grabbed the two coffees and followed him over, standing so close she had to take a step back when he turned.

  She mentally rolled her eyes at what a dork she was sometimes.

  He plucked one of the cups from her hand and nodded to the one she still held.

  “Half-caff,” he told her. “I know how your sister feels about caffeine.” Alex froze, her cup stopped halfway to her lips. He simply shrugged. “You guys look alike.”

  Alex snickered under her breath. “You should see my other sister.”

  His eyebrows rose. “How many of you are there?”

  “Three of us girls and an older brother.”

  “So not just sweet sisters. There’s a sweet brother as well.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend calling Spencer the sweet brother to his face,” she told him with a small smile, setting her cup down and putting the baked goods out for display. “He’s not exactly big on self-depreciating humor. I mean, I razz him all the time, but I’m a girl so he can’t pound me into the dirt, but you? He might just try it.” She looked him up and down, sizing him up. “And no offense, because you look damn fine, but he’s still got about six inches on you, and his temper has a hair trigger.” She kept talking as she placed each baked good where it belonged, making sure they all looked just right. “Really, Jenna is the only one that could get away with anything remotely insulting without getting her head ripped off but she’s just a kid. Well, not totally a kid anymore because she’s sixteen now and sixteen now is not the same as sixteen when I was a kid, you know. But she’s far too nice to give Spencer a hard time and he thinks she just walks on water. He knows better to think that about the rest of us.” She looked up, startled. “I’m sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. We call it Walker word vomit.”

  His dark eyes danced with humor, his lips turned up at the sides. “I like it. Carry on.”

  Sheepish, she turned back, setting the last of the pastries out. “I was always the chatty one, you know. We all have our roles to play. Spencer’s the enforcer, our bodyguard. Andy’s the responsible one. I’m the chatty one. Beth’s the crazy one. Well, not crazy crazy, more like rash crazy. Always running off without a plan. She’s the one that jumps without a safety net.”

  “Which one is the one that won’t let you have caffeine?” he asked, curiosity ringing in his every word.

  “That’s Beth.”

  “So, why is the crazy sister so against you drinking a coffee?”

  Her eyes flipped up to see him watching her with that same curiosity burning in his dark brown gaze. Did she tell him she was carrying Beth’s baby? How weird was that?

  It occurred to her for the very first time, in that moment, that even if she were to start someth
ing with this man, she’d be pregnant.

  What the hell was wrong with her? Guys that looked like him didn’t hang around with women that looked like she did on the regular, let alone her when she was pregnant.

  “Never mind,” he said, his face now serious with concern. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that—”

  “No really. It’s okay.” He held up a hand, a smile on his lips as he held out his other hand. “I’m Dylan.”

  Her cheeks heated at the idea that she’d been spilling her guts about her family, and they still hadn’t even officially introduced themselves. She put the back of her hand to her cheek, hoping to cool it down, then extended a hand.

  “Alexa. Alex,” she corrected, then rambled some more. “Beth calls me Lexi even though I asked her not to.”

  “You don’t like Lexi?” he asked, her hand still engulfed in his. The warmth tingled its way up her arm, stunning her and keeping her still in his hold.

  She shook her head. “I don’t mind it, but I like to have something to fight with her about.”

  His brows shot up and he let out a laugh. “Sounds like you have an interesting family.”

  She thought about Beth and Logan’s baby growing inside of her as they spoke.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “You could say that,” she hedged, hating to, but pulling her hand away from his. “So, what is it that you do, Dylan, other than save women from their overbearing sisters?”

  “Nothing actually,” he said seriously. “That’s pretty much my life goal. Find beautiful women in familial distress and rescue them with caffeinated beverages.”

  “Some specialty.”

  His laugh came easy, his eyes bright, his smile wide. He had the kind of smile that made other people smile just looking at him. Some people just looked shifty when they smiled, like Spencer. He didn’t think much of anything was funny anyway, so it was tough to get him to crack.

  Not Dylan. His smile was quick and genuine, and quite possibly addictive.