About the Author

Caroline Flynn is a Canadian writer from Northern Ontario. She doesn’t have to imagine what small town life is like – she lives it every day. Caroline loves everything book related, whether it’s reading them or writing them, and she is the dog-mom of an eccentric brindle boxer named Jazz (who makes an appearance in The Forget-Me-Not-Bakery!). Caroline uses her coffee addiction to fuel her writing passion, and she can’t imagine devoting her life to being anything other than an author.

She loves connecting with readers! You can find her at @flynnromance on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

The Forget-Me-Not Bakery
CAROLINE FLYNN

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

Copyright © Caroline Flynn

Caroline Flynn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © July 2020 ISBN: 9780008409012

Version: 2020-06-17

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue: Cohen

Chapter 1: Paige

Chapter 2: Cohen

Chapter 3: Paige

Chapter 4: Cohen

Chapter 5: Paige

Chapter 6: Cohen

Chapter 7: Paige

Chapter 8: Cohen

Chapter 9: Paige

Chapter 10: Cohen

Chapter 11: Paige

Chapter 12: Cohen

Chapter 13: Paige

Chapter 14: Cohen

Chapter 15: Paige

Chapter 16: Cohen

Chapter 17: Paige

Chapter 18: Cohen

Chapter 19: Paige

Chapter 20: Cohen

Chapter 21: Paige

Chapter 22: Cohen

Chapter 23: Paige

Chapter 24: Cohen

Chapter 25: Paige

Chapter 26: Cohen

Chapter 27: Paige

Epilogue: Cohen

Acknowledgements

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

For the real Caroline …

I miss you every day, Grandma.

Prologue
Cohen
Eight Years Ago …

There are days that change everything. Change our lives. Change us.

Cohen Beckett didn’t understand the razor-sharp truth of that statement. Until now. Now that he stood at the edge of the room, surrounded by all the people he knew and just as many that he didn’t, aching with the painful loneliness of a man stranded on foreign ground without a soul in sight. Now that he was left behind, to carry on living a life he didn’t know how to live alone. Now that his family of three, content and constant and perfect, was only a family of two.

Cohen didn’t remember who he was before Stacey. Try as he might, he couldn’t summon up recollections of his time before he’d met her by chance at university, all wide-eyed and beautiful and ready to take on the world. It seemed like a lifetime ago, yet those days, in the beginning, as he careened over the edge and fell madly in love with her, were etched in his brain with a sharp vividness that made them seem like only yesterday. He prayed that haunting vividness would never dull.

Before that, though? Nothing. The realization left him cold, and scared of what it truly meant. The thought niggled at him that he hadn’t yet begun to live, to do and be anything worth remembering, until he’d met the woman he would call his wife. And if that was the case, he wasn’t just scared. He was petrified. Because he would never be that man again, the one he saw reflecting back at him in Stacey’s pretty emerald eyes.

Stomach in knots, shoulders tight with the facade of strength he fought to wear nobly, Cohen ached for another glimpse of his beloved wife’s stare in his direction. The smile on her face that forced her long-lashed eyelids to squint with the sheer authenticity of it in the gold-rimmed picture frame beside her matching casket, the smile that seemed to follow him from across the room no matter where he stood, was a poor substitute for the beauty now housed in that closed box. No picture could do Stacey Beckett’s smile justice. No memory, regardless of its clarity, would ever do her justice.

He’d found his one. The one who was his best friend and his lover and his rock. It pained him to think about whether he’d managed to be those things for her, adequately and fully. His chest constricted as he hoped with every fiber of his being that he had been. It hurt even more to realize that his love for her hadn’t been enough to save her, hadn’t been enough to protect her in the first place. The rational part of Cohen’s brain understood that he could never have prevented the fluke accident that stole Stacey from him and their young son, but there were moments during the darkness of the seven nights that had followed her death when his rational mind didn’t stand a chance against the grieving, guilt-stricken part that took over and threatened to drown him in his own numb disbelief.

‘Dr Cohen?’

In the distance, as though through a thick veil of cotton but more accurately of dazed distraction, a voice filtered through to him. Cohen turned, and Sonya Ritter stood near him, her back turned to protect him from any oncoming folks intent on bestowing their condolences. Judging by the added lines that marred her forehead and the slight narrowed angle of her eyelids, she had said his name a few times without gleaning a response. Sonya knew nothing of impatience with him, though. As Port Landon’s designated mother hen and knower of all that went on within the town’s limits, the short elderly woman had taken her role more seriously when the tragedy of Stacey’s passing befell their little town and rocked their community to the core. The woman was a fixture in their tiny town, and a friend to all despite her overzealous nature and overbearing personality. But she’d been a godsend to Cohen in the past week. He didn’t know how he would have gotten through any of this without her. Didn’t know how Bryce would have gotten through it.

Bryce. His son. The last remaining thread to Stacey that he could touch and hold. Only two years old and left without the beautiful mother he adored. Cohen didn’t know how to quantify the torturous pain he was battling, but he was sure it was multiplied a thousand times over with the added weight of the grief he harbored on his young son’s behalf.

‘Sorry, Sonya. What were you saying?’ He shook his head, desperate to hold himself together. Not for Sonya; she could handle whatever emotional turmoil Cohen – or anyone else, for that matter – tossed at her. The woman was strong and sturdy as an oak tree despite her age. It wasn’t her he worried about.

The toddler in her arms was another story. The little boy he now lived solely for. Not because anything or anyone had ever come before him in his father’s eyes, but because he was all he had left.

Sonya looked uncertain of Cohen’s current emotional stability. She wasn’t the only one. But she thankfully kept her sentiments to herself. Cohen didn’t know if he could stand to hear Are you okay? or How are you holding up? one more time. People meant well, but it didn’t make having to form an answer any easier.

‘The director says he’s about ready to start the service,’ she informed him. ‘I figured you would want Bryce with you?’

Bless the woman’s heart. She was giving him an out, phrasing it as a question and allowing him the chance to admit he couldn’t handle sitting in the front row of his wife’s funeral, with his son in his arms asking why Mommy’s picture was on display but she was nowhere to be found. It was going to be hard. Damn hard. There would be tears eventually, though the icy numbness that spread through him like a biting frost hadn’t allowed those tears to fall yet, and there would be moments when Cohen wouldn’t know how he was going to get through them.

Today was one of those days. One of those moments. That changed everything. Changed him.

But he couldn’t allow this to swallow him up. He couldn’t let it, as easy as it would be. Bryce needed him now. More than ever. And Cohen needed Bryce just as urgently. He held his hands out, his fingers twitching with the instinctive urgency to feel the solid form of his son against him.

‘I wouldn’t want him anywhere else.’ He hugged the boy tight to his chest as Sonya gave Cohen’s jacket lapel a gentle pull to straighten it, then she pressed her lips together and headed back toward the rows of chairs, leaving him with only his thoughts and his son to keep him steady. He had more faith in his two-year-old than his own frazzled mind to level him out.

‘You all right, buddy?’ Cohen pressed his thumb into Bryce’s palm, squeezing his fingers gently. The boy’s eyelashes fluttered before his eyes fixed firmly on his father.

Stacey’s eyes.

‘I want Mommy.’ Bryce played with the edge of Cohen’s pocket, flipping the fabric up and down, his gaze flitting from it to Cohen’s face then back again. Waiting for an answer. Waiting for his daddy to fix this.

Cohen felt desolate, helpless. But, despite his throat constricting, thick with all the things he couldn’t find the strength to say and all the things he couldn’t change, Cohen leaned forward and kissed Bryce’s forehead, his soft skin warm against his lips.

‘I know, my boy. Me too.’ He shifted his son in his arms, needing him to focus his waning attention on him, needing him to understand the sincerity of the words he fought to say out loud. ‘But we’re going to be okay, me and you.’ He pressed his forehead to his son’s, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, desperate for his son to believe him more than he believed himself. ‘We’ll get through this,’ he choked out. ‘Together.’

Cohen just wished he knew how.

Chapter 1
Paige
Present Day …

Paige Henley had heard a lot of things about Port Landon. Mostly from her cousin, Allison, a long-time resident, and mostly that the tiny town was largely made up of people with big hearts and even bigger mouths. It ran on gossip and small-town gumption, and not always necessarily in that order. Of course, that was just gossip, too, when she really thought about it.

But she knew one thing for sure. When the folks of Port Landon talked about The Cakery’s grand opening later on that evening, huddled back into their cozy homes with their own personal choice of sugar fix, their recollection of just how well the new bakery’s grand opening had gone would be anything but exaggerated hearsay. It would be the truth.

‘I can’t believe this is really happening,’ Paige exclaimed, bending down to pull two chocolate cupcakes with mint frosting from the glass display case. Rising to her full height, she closed the takeout box and met Allison’s gaze. “I guess what I really mean is I still can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Allison expertly rang the sale through the cash register and bid the customer – Mrs O’Connor from Huntington Street was how she’d introduced her to Paige – a good day before turning to her cousin, eyes gleaming so bright they sparkled. ‘Oh, please. You can pretend you’re still unsure about this whole venture, but you’re not fooling me. Either you’ve laced the baked goods with some damn good stuff that’s making people think it tastes good, or maybe, just maybe, the people of Port Landon have spoken, Paige … and The Cakery is officially a hit!’

Paige couldn’t hide her smile. Leave it to Allison to decide that the only two plausible options were either real, honest-to-goodness success or the clandestine addition of hallucinogenic drugs.

She might not have had a clue what she was doing as a first-time business owner, but, by God, she was learning on the fly. And she was doing something right. It felt like the entire population of Port Landon had left their homes and jobs on this cheery sunny day to get a chance at the free coffee and sweet treats being handed out in celebration of Paige’s first official day up and running on the bustling downtown street.

Or, if Paige was honest, to catch a glimpse of the newest addition to the small portside town they all called home – her. Most customers weren’t even trying to hide that they were just as interested in the New Yorker who had snatched up old Wilhelmina Morrison’s bakery within days of it hitting the real estate market as they were the baked goods that were strategically displayed about the room. It was like they’d never seen a girl from New York before. Like she was something akin to a Yeti from the Himalayan Mountains, something they’d heard of but never truly witnessed.

Well, they were witnessing her now, a real live city-girl-turned-small-town-entrepreneur, living in what she hoped would remain her natural habitat, her very own dream come true.

And that’s what this grand opening day was turning out to be – a dream come true. With Allison graciously allowing her own business, the coffeehouse too-conveniently located beside the bakery, to be solely run by her two employees so she could volunteer to help Paige ‘control the impending chaos’ – Allison’s words, not hers – the doors had been unlocked for the very first time at nine o’clock sharp. The coffee Allison had donated for the event had been brewed and piping hot, ready to be sipped by the patrons who attended. Paige had expected there to be a handful of people who would come out, mostly for the free food that had been mentioned in the Port Landon Ledger advertisements, but she never would have expected the line-up of people that waited patiently outside for the heavy glass door to be unlocked, or the way the cupcakes, mini cheesecakes, and scones that had been on display had sold out in a matter of hours, leaving Paige with no choice but to begin cutting the large cakes into individual pieces and sell them by the slice so that everyone would have a chance to try the different frostings and cake flavors she’d boasted about in the ads.

If this day was any indication, The Cakery was going to need to be better stocked on a daily basis than she ever dreamed. The thought had Paige bursting with pride. Every sliver of fear she’d had about leaving her marketing career back in New York, every not-so-subtle hint from Allison that she should take a chance and follow her dreams of owning her own bakery, every doubt she’d harbored since giving her notice and selling her closet-sized condo in the heart of the city …

It was worth it. Crazy and reckless, but absolutely worth it. And it made Paige feel more alive than she had in years. Maybe ever. Even if she had to spend her evenings whipping up buttercream frosting just to keep up, she would do it, because this was her dream, and it was coming to fruition in front of her sapphire eyes.

Yeah, it was definitely worth it.

‘Paige, this is Sonya.’ Allison’s voice cut through Paige’s thoughts. She turned to see a slender woman with short, gray hair cut smartly into a bob hairstyle. She wore a black T-shirt identical to Allison’s, with the round Portside Coffeehouse logo on the front. The woman looked to be at least sixty-five, which Paige hadn’t expected by the way Allison talked about her.

‘Oh, Allison’s told me so much about you,’ Paige gushed, dusting her hands on her block-patterned apron. ‘You help her to run the coffeehouse, right?’

‘I do what I can,’ Sonya replied, nodding as she shook her hand with a surprisingly firm grasp. She leaned forward, a faint grin on her lips as she added in a whisper, ‘Which is pretty much everything.’

‘Easy, now. I can hear you plotting your stealthy takeover from here.’ A wider grin crossed Allison’s face as she placed her hands on her hips. This was obviously a running joke between the two of them. ‘Taking a break, are you?’

Sonya pointed toward the brick wall to the right that divided the bakery from the coffeehouse. ‘I’ve got Adrian running the place for ten minutes while I grab myself a treat. Got anything with peanut butter in it?’

Paige jumped into action immediately, gesturing toward the other side of the room where a long table with trays of colorful cupcakes and squares were on display. They’d been picked over a bit, but a good selection still remained. ‘I put chocolate fudge cupcakes with peanut butter icing on the treat trays this morning! Help yourself to those. They’re free for the taking.’

Sonya glanced back at the setup, but she quickly turned back to the front counter where Allison and Paige stood, pulling a crumpled ten-dollar bill from her pocket. ‘Anything with peanut butter in it that I can buy?’ She waved the bill in her hand.

Paige tilted her head, curious. ‘Of course, but you don’t have to—’

‘Look, sweetheart …’ The older woman leaned in as though about to reveal a deep, dark secret. ‘Around here, we shop local. We help each other out as best we can. It’s what we do, in case Allison, here, hasn’t told you. So …’ She slid the bill across the counter, her deep brown eyes never wavering. ‘Sell me ten dollars’ worth of sugary goodness, and let me be on my way, will you?’

Paige’s cheeks burned hotly at having been put in her place by the older woman, but at the same time, her heart swelled with adoration and respect for Sonya … and for the town. ‘A handful of peanut buttery decadence coming up,’ she announced, pulling a takeout box from the shelf behind her and beginning to place an array of sweet treats into it. She was just about to disappear into the back of the shop where the kitchen was hidden by a wall when another voice broke into the conversation.

‘Sonya, are you giving this poor lady a hard time?’

The voice brought Paige back around to see who it was. It was unfamiliar and deep, the voice of a man.

Sonya had turned around at the front counter, and judging by both her and Allison’s easy smiles, they recognized the owner of that voice.

He was tall, standing over by the table of treat trays, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the large coffeepot Allison had brought over from her shop that morning. The steam billowed up from the paper cup in his hands, and his hazel eyes shone with amusement.

‘You got one thing right, Dr Cohen. The lady’s definitely going to be poor if she doesn’t start letting us folks pay for the stuff in her shop.’ Anyone else might have sounded crass, but Sonya’s tone was anything but. She was blunt and to the point, but there was heart behind her words, not malice. ‘Speaking of that, you’d better come up here and see what you can find to buy that sweet boy of yours, yeah?’

‘Don’t you worry, I’ve been given my orders,’ he assured her, placing a plastic top on the cup before making his way to the front counter. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met, yet. I’m Cohen.’

A glass display case stood between them and he jutted his hand out over it. His smile was the first thing Paige noticed about him, genuine. His eyes gleamed with just as much sincerity, and a gentle kindness seemed to emanate off him in waves. He wore dark stonewash jeans and comfortable looking loafers, but the ensemble was paired with a solid green scrub top that made the flecks of gold in his eyes shine all the more brightly.

‘Hi,’ Paige greeted him, shifting the box into one hand to shake his with the other. ‘I’m Paige.’ She could hear a sudden shyness tainting her own voice. ‘Paige Henley.’ She couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away.

Cohen gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze meeting hers and holding it for what could have been a minute but was probably only seconds. ‘This town’s been talking nonstop about you and your bakery, Paige. It’s good to finally put a face and a name to all the chatter.’

‘The novelty will wear off, I’m sure.’ She had been living in Port Landon for the past three months, but for the first time, Paige idly wondered just what exactly the gossip was that Cohen had heard.

‘As quickly as the sugar fix?’ Cohen arched an eyebrow, a crooked grin dancing on his face.

‘Well, hopefully not quite that fast.’ She laughed.

The sound of a throat being cleared made both Paige and Cohen turn at the same time. Allison and Sonya stood there, their lips pursed, unable to hide their mischievous intrigue. It was too alight in their eyes to go unnoticed.

‘Find something you like?’ Allison asked, crossing her arms.

Paige didn’t know if she was addressing Cohen or herself, but she quickly realized it didn’t matter. What did matter was that she and Cohen were still standing there, her small hand enveloped in his.

She pulled her hand from his as easily as she could. ‘Right.’ She glanced down as she smoothed her apron out, giving herself a moment to compose herself and stamp down her embarrassment. ‘Anything I can get you, Cohen?’

‘That’s Dr Cohen,’ Sonya interjected, still rooted in place, watching their exchange with distinct interest.

Paige shot her a pleading glance, silently begging the woman to stop making this worse, but quickly tried to cover it up. ‘Sorry, Dr Co—’

Cohen chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No, just Cohen is fine,’ he insisted. He glanced over at Sonya. ‘I see what you’re doing Sonya, and you can put the brakes on anytime.’

‘I could.’ She shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. ‘But you know I won’t, sweetheart.’

Paige wasn’t sure whose expression was more amused, the older woman’s or Cohen’s, but whatever passed between them was a silent, mutual understanding. They had history, those two. Cohen turned back to Paige, unfazed. ‘As I was saying,’ he began again. ‘I got a specific request from my son this morning for something that’s double fudge, and I promised I would come and see if I could make good on that request before he got home from school. Unfortunately, I got behind in my appointments and it took longer to get here than planned. Am I too late?’

‘I’ve got just the thing, Just Cohen.’ She flashed him an excited smile, relieved that she did, in fact, have something that would fit the bill. She ducked down, intent on seeking out the cake she had in mind. Paige didn’t even realize she was still holding the box – Sonya’s box – in her hand until she was about to set it down and retrieve another one for Cohen.

Immediately, Paige stood up, her eyes wide as she came face to face with the older woman. ‘I’m sorry, Sonya. I didn’t finish getting everything for you! I’ll be right back.’ She whirled around, sending an apologetic glance at Cohen for making him wait as well, then scurried into the kitchen to add a slice of the chocolate peanut butter pie she’d made to have as her own dessert tonight, mortified at forgetting what she’d been doing the moment Cohen had entered the shop.

What in the world had come over her?

She knew all too well that Allison wasn’t going to let her live that one down. And if her first impression of Sonya was anything to go by, she wouldn’t, either.

Paige put on a brave face after slipping the piece of pie into the box and made her way back out to the counter. ‘An assortment of cupcakes and a slice of gourmet chocolate peanut butter pie,’ she announced, sliding the box across to Sonya. ‘You’ll have to let me know what you think.’

Sonya didn’t bother to open the box and inspect the choices Paige had chosen. Pushing the ten-dollar bill closer to her, Sonya tucked the box under her arm. ‘Trust me, Paige, I always let people know what I think.’ She cast a fleeting glance from Cohen to Paige and back again, then winked. ‘It was good to meet you, sweetheart.’ She turned to leave, but not before adding, ‘Have a good day, Dr Cohen,’ as she closed the door behind her.

The void of Sonya’s absence was felt the moment she left, but her words hung in the air like a thick veil. Allison had advised Paige on more than one occasion that the woman was a force to be reckoned with, but her spitfire personality was even more fiery than she’d expected.

‘Now, about that order for double fudge anything …’ Paige turned back to Cohen, unable to look Allison in the eye just yet, and went about cutting an enormous slice of chocolate Oreo cake with chocolate fudge icing and double chocolate fudge drizzle on top, carefully boxing it up. She added in a pair of mocha chocolate cupcakes for good measure. ‘If that doesn’t fit the bill for your son, I don’t know what will.’

‘It looks like he’s going to be swinging from the rafters till midnight once the sugar in that hits his bloodstream.’

He was smiling, but Paige immediately wondered if he thought it was too much. ‘I guess the doctor in you would be worried about the effects of all the refined sugar.’

‘Nah, it’s the dad in me that’s worried about that,’ he chuckled. ‘Besides, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m a veterinarian. Believe me, I understand the need for a good sugar fix every now and then. What do I owe you, Paige?’

Allison stepped back, gesturing for her to take her place at the cash register. Paige punched a few buttons, ignoring the smug grin on her cousin’s face. When the amount came up on the screen, Cohen arched a brow. ‘That can’t be enough.’

‘It’s just for the cake,’ she advised happily. ‘The cupcakes are on the house.’

He pulled his wallet out and held out a twenty-dollar bill. ‘Thanks, Paige. Looks like I owe you one.’

Paige counted out his change and handed it to him. ‘You owe me nothing. I’m just glad I could fulfill the request of a boy with dreams of chocolate fudge.’

‘One forkful of that chocolatey masterpiece and I’ll bet you’ll be seeing my son and me in here a lot more.’

‘I’m looking forward to it, Cohen.’

He shoved his wallet back into his jeans pocket, his eyes gleaming when they met hers once more. ‘Me too,’ he assured her. ‘But I’d better get back to Jazz. She’s probably scaling the walls looking for me. It was nice to meet you, Paige. Have a good day, you two.’ He offered a slight nod toward Allison, and then they both watched as he made his way out of the shop, the bell above the door tolling lightly to announce his exit.

With the shop empty for the first time since the doors opened that morning, Paige turned to her cousin, who was still grinning. ‘What?’ Paige asked, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly what her cousin was thinking. They had been best friends too long not to know. ‘You’re looking at me like something big just happened.’

‘Something big did just happen,’ Allison exclaimed. ‘You, Paige Henley, just met Port Landon’s most eligible bachelor.’

Chapter 2
Cohen

‘You’re right. They almost do look too good to eat.’ Cohen carefully closed the box of cakes and placed it on the table in the lunchroom. ‘You’d better head over there now if you want half a chance at anything being left. She’s going to sell out by the end of the day, I’m sure of it.’

‘Really?’ Rhonda, the technician at his veterinary clinic, pointed toward the waiting room. ‘But what about the next appointment?’

‘Don’t you worry about Mr Rutherford and Max,’ he insisted. ‘It’s a quick appointment for vaccines and itchy ears. I can handle it. You go on and check out the bakery, or else you’ll be stealing Bryce’s chocolate fudge cake before he gets here, getting us both in trouble.’

‘I’m not sure either of us could handle that kind of wrath.’ Rhonda plucked her leather purse from the lunchroom table and headed for the front door of the clinic.

Cohen chuckled to himself. There wasn’t a person in Port Landon brave enough to come between a strong-willed boy like Bryce and his love of chocolate fudge. He was only ten, but there were times when Cohen forgot he was still so young. He acted older, and he was terribly smart. Cohen often wondered if it was his genetics that made him so mature for his age, or the enormity of what he’d been through in his short life thus far.

He shook his head, brushed some dog hair from the hem of his scrub top – left there by Coby, the Andersons’ always-shedding Labrador retriever, during an earlier appointment – and met his next patient in the waiting room. ‘Mr Rutherford, hello. How about we bring Max into the exam room and see what’s going on with those ears, shall we?’

Max was a five-year-old cocker spaniel with a robust love of life. He also had a love of water, getting into any puddle, stream, or lake he could find. Mr Rutherford’s neighbor, who owned the biggest inground pool in Port Landon, didn’t much appreciate Max’s love of water, or the fact that Mr Rutherford let Max run loose in the yard every now and then. Or in his yard, based on the gossip that permeated the clinic walls daily. The dog had been caught paddling around in the pool more than a few times.

However, Max’s love of water was hard on his ears and he’d developed a couple of infections over the years because of it.

One look and Cohen knew he’d better send the dog home with a course of antibiotics and a follow-up appointment in ten days. Max squirmed the entire time, but Cohen managed to get his ears cleaned as best he could, then he applied a few drops of a topical antibiotic into each ear, much to the dog’s dismay. Max shook his head, letting his floppy ears flap dramatically, but his tail still wagged wildly. The dog had been there many times before; he knew the drill. And sure enough, after directions to apply the drops twice a day and try to keep the ears as clean and dry as possible, Cohen reached into the glass treat jar on the edge of the countertop and offered Max the beef liver treat he’d been waiting for since the moment he arrived.

‘I’ll see you in ten days,’ Cohen advised Mr Rutherford with a smile. He crouched down and patted the dog on the head affectionately. ‘And I’ll see you, too, Max. Heal those ears up and be good, for heaven’s sake.’

He made sure Alice, the receptionist, was helping the elderly man to settle his bill at the front desk, then made his way back toward the pharmacy room, intent on typing his shorthand notes into the computer system. But as Cohen rounded the corner, he barely registered hearing the back door of the clinic swing open before he was hit by a sprinting Bryce.

‘Oomph!’ Bryce made an incomprehensible sound before reeling back to stare up at his father with wide, excited eyes. ‘Dad! Did you make it to the bakery yet? Josh says his mom went to get him some apple pie, but they were sold out!’

‘It’s good to see you, too, Bryce.’ Cohen chuckled. ‘Glad you’re so happy to see me.’ He held the boy out at arm’s length, checking him over, as he did almost every day. A familiar sensation washed over him daily around this time, just as Bryce made his way home from the public school, located two streets over. It was relief. Relief that his son was home, safe and sound. Relief that he could see him again, like laying eyes on him equated to knowing everything was okay.

‘I am happy to see you,’ his son replied, beaming. ‘I’m just happy to see chocolate cake more!’ Bryce cast a glance through the doorway into the lunchroom, eyed the takeout box, and dove for it.

Cohen leaped forward in a half-hearted attempt to stop him from reaching the box. He managed to get a hold of Bryce’s T-shirt near his shoulder and pull him back against him just inside the lunchroom doorway, holding the boy against his chest with one hand and picking up the box of cakes with the other. He held it away from him, causing laughter and cries of feigned desperation to erupt from his mouth.

‘Dad, that’s mine! You bought it for me, remember?’

‘One more false move and Jazz gets it!’

As if on cue, Jazz wandered in, her docked tail wagging excitedly at the sight of Bryce, her eyes squinted from the big smile on her face.

‘You wouldn’t give the cake to Jazz,’ Bryce hollered, arms outstretched and flailing wildly in hopes of snatching the box from his hand. ‘You can’t give chocolate to dogs. What kind of veterinarian are you?’ The boy laughed as Cohen expertly placed a foot behind his own, purposely causing him to trip backwards as his father lowered him to the floor.

Jazz was on him in seconds, attempting to lick his face and communicate her happiness at seeing him despite Bryce’s attempts to crawl away from her.

‘See, even Jazz thinks you don’t need cake,’ Cohen laughed, his heart swelling at the sight.

‘Well, Jazz would be wrong, Dad!’

Hearing her name from Bryce’s lips again only heightened the brindle boxer’s excitement, and she bounced happily on her front paws as though playing some sort of game. One that only she knew the rules of, and if there were rules, they were likely: Rule #1 – Jazz wins. And what was the name of the game? Jazz Wins.

And Jazz was definitely winning.

‘Okay, okay, I give up!’ Bryce cried out, laughing so hard tears glistened at the corners of his eyes. ‘Get the attack dog off me, Dad!’

‘All right, Jazz,’ Cohen chuckled. ‘Come on back, girl. Let him at least stand and fight for the cake he loves.’

Jazz had traipsed into the lives of those who worked at Beckett Veterinary Hospital last year. Surrendered by her elderly owner due to unforeseen health reasons, the plan had been to place her into a rescue group for foster placement until a new forever home could be found.

A year later, Jazz still called the clinic her home, and she owned the clinic employees and anyone else who scuttled through the door. Someday, someone special would come along and fall for Jazz the way everyone who worked there had, Cohen and Bryce included. It was inevitable when she was such a companionable, loving animal without an angry bone in her body. She rarely barked, was trained to ring one of the bells hanging from each door of the clinic when she wanted to go outside, and she adored absolutely everyone she met. But, so far, no one had come forward.

No one but Cohen, Bryce, and the team who worked there, as a collective whole. Jazz was just as much a part of the Beckett Veterinary Hospital family as the employees. No one was rushing out to try to find her another place to live.

Most veterinary clinics had a clinic cat, because cats were more independent and simplistic to own. In theory, anyway. But they had a clinic dog, and she fit in perfectly.

Bryce stumbled to his feet once Jazz relented, and he immediately jutted his hands out. ‘Dad, please! Let me see the cake. Please!’

Cohen held it further away. ‘You can’t have it until after supper, though. You know the drill.’

‘I didn’t say I was going to eat it, I said I was going to look at it!’

‘Why put yourself through the misery?’ Cohen pursed his lips, thoroughly enjoying himself.

‘Because I need to make an educated opinion about the new bakery, and that opinion starts with the presentation of the cake!’ Bryce wiggled his fingers for the cake to be passed to him.

Inwardly, Cohen groaned. When did his sandy-haired, green-eyed, ten-year-old son grow up so much that he needed to form ‘educated opinions’ about the artistic presentation of cake? It was just one more moment in a long list of them when he realized that his boy wasn’t a baby anymore.

Mostly because he was anticipating seeing Bryce’s face when he caught his first glimpse of the cake Paige had boxed up for him, Cohen gave up, passing the box to his son. ‘It was all I could do not to try a bite,’ he admitted. ‘Rhonda’s over there now. Once she saw your cake and cupcakes, she couldn’t help herself.’

‘Whoa …’ The animated look on Bryce’s face as he opened the box and revealed the fudge-drizzled cake slice was worth ten times the price Cohen had paid for it. His eyes grew so round, his mouth dropped open – his father’s chest tightened a little.

There he was – his little boy, with wide eyes full of wonder. His baby was still in there somewhere.

‘Dad, it looks like it’s out of a magazine!’ With his gaze fixed on the box of treats, Bryce reached a finger out, intent on scooping a bit of frosting off the top of one of the cakes.

‘Hey!’ Cohen chuckled. ‘What did I say about supper first?’

‘Just one taste!’ his son pleaded. ‘Just one, Dad! Please?’

The desperation in Bryce’s eyes was enough to break down Cohen’s resolve. Sometimes, battles had to be picked. It was just cake icing, after all. ‘Try the frosting on one of the cupcakes. But leave the other one untouched – that one’s for me.’

Bryce didn’t hesitate, scooping the end of his index finger into the mocha frosting. The boy’s eyes crossed and he moaned dramatically. ‘Oh, wow, Dad! That’s seriously some of the best frosting I’ve ever had. You’ve got to try it.’ He held out the box to Cohen, but Cohen held up both hands.

‘I’ve still got one more appointment, then I can sit down and have dinner with you. There’s lasagna in the crockpot. After that, we dine on chocolate fudge cake and mocha frosting. Deal?’

‘Best deal ever,’ Bryce said with a grin.

‘Good,’ Cohen replied. ‘Because you’ve got homework first while you wait for me.’

‘But, Dad, I wanted to walk down to the bakery and look inside.’

Cohen halted his footsteps. ‘Not today. I’ve got one more appointment scheduled, and you need to get your homework done.’

‘I will, but the bakery’s only open for another half an hour and—’

‘I can’t take you today, Bryce. I’m still working, I’m sorry.’ Cohen felt a familiar ache, painfully aware of how often his son heard those words – ‘I have to work’ – come from his mouth. It pained him every time he had to deny his son any activity or outing he wanted to attend because of it.

It might have been eight years since Stacey passed away, but it felt like only yesterday in many ways to Cohen. He knew Bryce didn’t really remember his mother, having been only two years old at the time. That didn’t mean the boy didn’t acknowledge the void of a mother figure’s presence, though.

‘I could go alone, Dad,’ Bryce insisted. ‘It’s only up the street.’

He couldn’t fault his son for his logic. The veterinary clinic was on the corner of Clinton Street and Main Street. There was a vacant lot beside it where the first in the row of downtown shops had once begun, but the first shop had burned down two decades ago and was never rebuilt. In its place, a park had been built across both lots, with picnic tables and a variety of different children’s playground structures. Beside that was the Portside Coffeehouse, owned by Allison Kent. And besides that, Paige Henley’s new bakery.

Any other day, Cohen probably would have caved in and let Bryce meander over to the bakery on his own. But he prevented himself from giving in to his son once again during this conversation, and not just because he didn’t want to seem like a pushover.

He selfishly also wanted an excuse to go back again. To see Paige again.

She seemed friendly enough, and kind-hearted. Such a drastic contrast from the slew of rumors that whirled around town for the months preceding her bakery’s grand opening. No one had really seen her or been formally introduced until today, but that hadn’t been enough to stop the public opinion from forming that the bakery’s new owner was an uppity city slicker who undoubtedly believed she was better than the residents of little ole’ Port Landon.

But, boy, had she proved the gossipmongers wrong today. Paige was anything but arrogant, and her gentle demeanor emanated from her like a warm embrace.

Her pretty blue eyes didn’t go unnoticed, either.

He knew exactly what Sonya Ritter had been hinting at earlier. The old woman was notorious for trying to set him up with every single woman that crossed the Port Landon town limits. She had been hell-bent on playing matchmaker since the year after Stacey’s passing. Very unsuccessfully, to Sonya’s dismay. Cohen, however, hadn’t cared one way or the other, and that told him everything he needed to know. Either the woman Sonya was trying to pair him up with wasn’t the right one, or Cohen just wasn’t ready. He put his bets on the latter.

He hadn’t put much effort into looking for love, anyway. Okay, more accurately, he hadn’t put forth any effort. His main priority was Bryce, and Bryce alone. While he knew his son needed a mother figure, he had been content to raise him on his own without a second thought, for no other reason than the fear of losing someone else and his son getting hurt in the process. He couldn’t take that chance. Losing Stacey had almost wrecked him. He couldn’t let his son witness that kind of pain again.

Despite everything, Bryce had grown up well-rounded, he thought. He was a smart kid, did well in school – save for history and English, but those had once been the bane of Cohen’s existence, too – and he was polite and well-liked in the community. He helped their neighbors rake their leaves in the autumn and knew enough to hold the door open for other people and use his manners. Cohen thought he’d done pretty well, all things considered, and there were no words to describe how proud he was of Bryce and the boy he’d become. They were content just as they were; Cohen, Bryce, Norman the black cat – who despised Jazz – and Jazz, the brindle boxer, who loved everyone, Norman included.

Sonya Ritter was another story. She couldn’t and wouldn’t believe Cohen was truly content until there was a woman on his arm who’d taken his last name.

‘I know you could go yourself, pal,’ he advised his son. ‘But not today, okay? How about this: If you can go feed Jazz and finish up your homework, that should give me time to get through my last appointment for the day. Then, we can head home, sit down, and eat lasagna. After that, we’ll take Jazz for a walk down to the pier and let her drink from that oversized water bowl we call a lake. Sound good?’

Bryce’s jaw worked as he mulled over his father’s proposition. ‘I thought we were going to eat cake?’

The corner of Cohen’s mouth twitched upward. ‘We’ll take two forks with us. That cake isn’t going to eat itself.’

Chapter 3
Paige

The second official day of The Cakery being open was just as busy as the first. Maybe even busier, but Paige had lost count of the customers she’d served despite her unsuccessful efforts to keep track. Late into the afternoon, she received a well-deserved moment to herself, her first since she’d unlocked the door at nine o’clock that morning. After tackling the previous day with her witty, nothing-fazes-me cousin by her side, Paige was acutely aware of the void Allison’s absence left. She knew she couldn’t expect her to abandon her own thriving business every day to help her out, but it had been nice to have the support and camaraderie that came from taking on the world together yesterday, even if it was just in the name of a good old-fashioned sugar fix.

The two of them had been thick as thieves in high school. Inseparable. They were family, but they were best friends, too. Had been for as long as Paige could remember. Even when Paige boldly fled their hometown of Grand Rapids after graduation and set off for New York, while Allison chose to test out her entrepreneurial skills with the Portside Coffeehouse in Port Landon – a little town Paige had only heard of before moving there – the only distance it created between them was in the tangible sense. Thanks to decent long-distance cellphone plans and the aid of Skype, the two women took on their new roles together, despite the eight hundred miles between them.

Both had excelled, but as the years wore on, each one passing by quicker than the last, it had been only Allison that carried the same excitement and contentment in her choice of career. Paige would never in a million years call her life spent in New York City a mistake, and those years would never be something she regretted.

But she was glad she’d listened to Allison’s not-so-subtle hints, suggesting she should stop talking about leaving her hectic marketing and design position in New York ‘someday’ and come back to her home state of Michigan to fulfill her dream of owning her own bakery.

At first, Paige had balked at the idea. She’d thought, Surely I couldn’t do such a thing?

But, as time wore on and Allison’s suggestions became less veiled and more detailed, transforming from hints into full-fledged daydreams, she began to listen to her cousin’s ideas of what it would be like to live in the little town of Port Landon. And when Wilhelmina Morrison put her well-known and well-loved bakery up for sale, citing that seventy-nine was as good an age as any to retire and start doing the adventurous things she’d always dreamed of, like taking road-trips and quite possibly skydiving, Allison’s incessant prodding became unabashed nagging.

‘You always said you wanted to own your own bakery and make pretty cakes and decadent cookies and cupcakes to your heart’s content!’ she’d reminded her, again and again. ‘Here’s your chance! Besides, the bake shop building is right beside my coffee shop, Paige. It’s perfect!’

That was what scared Paige the most – it did sound perfect. And despite the fact she had been thinking seriously about Allison’s proposition, she was petrified to leave the safety net of her executive job in a breakneck-speed city like New York and start over in a small town of only a few thousand people. It was what she knew, her comfort zone. She’d attended college there and built the only adult life she’d ever known.

Until now. Fifteen years after that wide-eyed teenager moved to one of the biggest, busiest cities in the United States, Paige Henley did the unthinkable.

She left.

Paige took her cousin’s advice. And in the end, it wasn’t because of Allison, or because of her job, or even her own grown-up decision.

It was because of a homemade cake given to a man she could have – no, should have – fallen for.

Her final official board meeting with Livingston Designs was never meant to be her last. It was a meeting like any other, all digital screens and laser pointers and long rectangular tables. Her boss, Alex Livingston, sat to her left, as he always did, and the same team of enthusiastic go-getters surrounded her. The only difference was that the coffee and sweets usually brought in for them was from a new place that had just opened up. Paige couldn’t remember the name of the place, but it had been something as light, fluffy, and delectable as the mini cakes that accompanied the coffee.

The coffee was good, but the cakes were downright mouth-watering.

‘Oh my gosh!’ she’d exclaimed, her eyes fluttering as the sugary explosion burst on her tongue. ‘Whoever baked this deserves a medal!’

Alex had merely scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. ‘It’s a cake,’ he replied absently, under his breath. ‘Not exactly worthy of awards in my books.’

Mouth still half full, Paige stopped mid-movement. She’d never walked on eggshells before with Alex, but Paige had known better than to bring up something so menial. She knew the pressure he was under to secure the marketing deal they were working on, and it was bringing out his curt side. Still, she couldn’t contain her urge to argue. ‘You haven’t even tried it, Alex.’

He dropped his pen, letting it clatter onto the desk, an indication of how silly he thought this entire conversation was, especially since they were about to discuss a million-dollar advertising campaign proposal. That was the only kind of thing worthy of medals in the eyes of Alex Livingston. ‘I don’t have to try it to know it doesn’t deserve a medal, Paige. It’s a cake, nothing more. Besides, anyone who wants to live their lives baking up a storm isn’t exactly looking to become award-winning. That’s what I’m assuming, anyway. And who would want to live like that?’

The answer hit Paige instantly. Me.

Alex meant a great deal to her. They were colleagues in the office and something akin to friends outside it. For fifteen years, Paige had built her relationship with him and with the company, excelling in her career and earning her managerial title. She was acutely aware that Alex felt more for her than just friendship, but Paige had yet to pull the tether and let her heart open up to him. She didn’t know why she couldn’t seem to do it – they got along well and there was no denying he was an attractive man. She didn’t understand why Alex put up with her wishy-washy responses each time he asked her out.

But in that moment, after Alex’s thoughtless outburst fueled by stress, Paige suddenly couldn’t imagine loving a man who didn’t appreciate the little things in life. Who didn’t see the value in creating something with your hands even if it didn’t result in an exorbitant amount of money or critical acclaim? Wanting to love someone and actually finding love with them were two very different things. And so the sad, vicious cycle continued.

Paige saw things differently, she realized that now. It took his dismissal of someone’s gourmet creations for her to realize she didn’t care about anything as much as she did her childhood dream. She heard Allison’s encouragement, saw the real estate listing in her mind for the rundown bakery her cousin had sent her as clear as if it was sitting in front of her, and felt her blood burn a little hotter in her veins with the physical need she felt to prove Alex wrong.

Me, she thought again. I want to live like that. She’d spent the last months teetering on the edge of a precipice, unwilling to make a concrete decision. Now, she felt like the decision was made for her. Paige’s heart spoke up, loud and clear, and it told her mind the plan: Paige wasn’t going to sit another day idle, wondering what if. She wanted that bakery. Her heart wanted that bakery.

Most of all, Paige wanted to be able to say she’d tried.

It wasn’t any one thing that she wanted to run from, more like a series of many things she wanted to run to.

She’d learned so much in New York, about her strengths and about herself. For that reason, she cherished what she’d left behind there, and always would. But because of that moment, that off-the-cuff comment by a businessman she was loyal to and whom she trusted unfailingly, Paige Henley gave a month’s notice to him – a move Alex made known he didn’t understand but respected. Paige found herself back in Michigan, in the small town of Port Landon, and she was just as eager to see what she could learn about herself there.

This was her new beginning. She didn’t see it as starting over so much as switching gears. She’d spent fifteen years doing what she had to do – and she had done her job well, judging by the praise and letter of recommendation from Alex, should she ever need it – but now it was time to do what she wanted.

For better or for worse, Paige had made her decision. Though it wouldn’t be easy, she was bound and determined to give it all she had.

And today, she was giving it all she had without the aid of her trusty sidekick, Allison. But being busy had never evoked fear in Paige before. Busy meant there was something to do, something to keep her hands and her mind distracted. It was easier to deal with the loneliness that seemed to creep in now and then, reminding her that those distractions were all she had to keep her company.

Fifteen years of living to work had flown by in a New York minute, but the last five years of hearing about Allison’s fun days at the coffee shop and her romantic dates with her boyfriend, Christopher, made Paige open her eyes and realize what her life had become.

Paige wasn’t living; she was merely existing.

It was another thing in the long line of things that prompted the move to Port Landon, along with the hefty down payment on Wilhelmina Morrison’s old bakery. She wasn’t just looking for a new career. She was looking for a new life. A real one. One that included people she cared about, and people who cared about her. One that left her tired in the evenings, but content and happy with the efforts she put forth toward her goals.

And, so far, that was what she had found in the little town of Port Landon. Now, if she could just find someone to share it all with.

The shrill tolling of the bell above the front door broke Paige from her thoughts, and Allison came bounding in as though thinking about her had somehow conjured her cousin up from thin air.

‘Paige!’ she shrieked. As though it was an afterthought, she glanced around the room, confirming no one else was in the shop. ‘Paige, you’re not going to believe this!’

The excitement coursing through Allison’s veins was infectious, and Paige steeled herself for something huge. ‘What’s going on?’

Allison stretched her arm out across the front counter, waving her left hand in front of Paige’s face. ‘I’m getting married, Paige!’

It took a moment for the words to register, and for Paige to get a look at the shiny diamond on her cousin’s ring finger, before both women turned into the squealing high school best friends they’d been so many years ago, holding hands and bouncing up and down like children. Paige’s eyes were wide and wet with tears, her joy for her cousin spilling down her cheeks.

‘Oh my God, Allison, that’s incredible!’

‘He finally did it!’ Allison laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Chris proposed … and I didn’t even see it coming, Paige. At all!’

If that was true, then Paige figured she was the only one blindsided by it. The whole town had probably seen it coming. After five years of dating, even Paige had been waiting with bated breath for Allison to announce her upcoming marriage every time they talked on the phone or had a Skype call. Allison was the most patient person she’d ever known, and from everything they’d ever discussed while Paige was in New York, she and Chris had a good relationship. A solid one.

This wasn’t the first time Paige was a teensy bit envious of Allison, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to cry happy tears and jump at the chance to celebrate her big news.

They were best friends. They were family. And family was something that meant the world to Paige.

‘I’m so happy for you, Allison.’ Paige pulled her cousin into a warm embrace, squeezing her tightly. ‘So, so happy.’

‘I just can’t freaking believe it,’ Allison sobbed, letting go of Paige to stretch her arm out in front of her and admire her bejeweled ring finger again. ‘I’ve got a fiancé! A freaking fiancé!’

‘Yes, you do.’ Paige laughed, reaching out for her cousin’s hand to ogle the shiny square diamond in a rose gold setting. ‘Just wait until you can call him your husband.’

‘Husband!’ she screeched, clutching her hand to her chest. ‘I’m going to have a husband!’

The theatrics amused Paige immensely. ‘Just how long ago did this romantic proposal take place?’

Allison whirled around to glance at the clock. ‘About twenty minutes ago! We were having a picnic lunch and—’

‘Wait, you left your picnic with your new fiancé, who just proposed, to come in here and tell me about it?’ Paige stood there, her eyes widened in bewilderment. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, even if it was from Allison.

‘I had to tell you! This is time-sensitive stuff, Paige!’ She feigned shock, like she couldn’t possibly understand why Paige wouldn’t understand such a thing. ‘Okay, fine, so maybe I’m not a very good fiancée.’

Paige sighed, shaking her head as she reached out and squeezed her cousin’s hands in hers. ‘It’s not that you’re not a good fiancée, it’s just that you’re too good of a friend to me,’ she explained gently. ‘And as over the moon as I am that you’re getting married and there’s a wedding to plan, I think you’d better go find Christopher and celebrate with him, yeah?’

‘I know, Paige, but I just had to tell you!’ she continued, her gaze becoming a starry-eyed haze. ‘I’m thinking a summer wedding. August, maybe.’ She held her hands out with a Just picture this! gesture.

‘That’s only a couple of months away!’ Paige gasped, surprised. ‘That’s fast.’

‘When you know, you know,’ Allison stated, winking at her. ‘Besides, there’s nothing more romantic than a summer wedding with all the flowers in bloom and the sun high in the sky.’ She sighed, obviously picturing the scene in her mind with vivid clarity. ‘Wow, that’s some serious lovey-dovey voodoo stuff Sonya’s been pulling. It’s turning me into a complete—’

‘What’s Sonya got to do with Christopher’s marriage proposal?’ Paige chuckled.

‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you!’ she shrieked, jumping up and down again. ‘Sonya was just saying the other day that it’s our time! Something to do with the stars aligning and believing in the power of love, or standing the test of time …’ She shook her head, waving her hand to dismiss her further jumbled thoughts. ‘I don’t know, Paige, all I’m saying is Sonya predicted it, and then it happened!’

‘Or maybe Christopher has been planning this for months and it’s just a coincidence?’

Allison, ever the dramatic one, stomped her foot and let out a loud scoff. ‘Okay, smarty pants, but what about what she said about you and Dr Cohen?’

Paige arched a brow. ‘What are you talking—’

The bell chimed above the doorway again, announcing a visitor. Both women turned to see a young boy enter the bake shop. Paige didn’t recognize him. Allison’s face, however, lit up and her mouth gaped open. She knew very well who he was.

‘And that, I think, is my cue to leave.’ She didn’t look away from the sandy-haired boy, who was too transfixed by the display of mini cheesecakes in the cooler to notice her stare, but she stepped away from Paige, still wearing a haunted expression.

‘What? Why?’ Paige was beyond confused.

Allison cupped her hands around her mouth to respond, but whatever she was going to say was quickly interrupted by the bell ringing once more. Cohen Beckett stepped inside the shop, his focus trained on the young boy near the cooler.

‘I thought we were walking here, not sprinting like the zombies are hot on our heels.’ He wore an amused grin, turning to shut the door behind him. As the door clicked shut, he turned back to face the counter and saw both Allison and Paige staring at him like he had just grown a second head. ‘Oh, hello, ladies.’

‘Hey there, Dr Cohen.’ Allison leaned in toward Paige, lowered her voice, and whispered, ‘See? Lovey-dovey voodoo stuff. Sonya knows what she’s talking about. We’ll chat later … maid of honor.’ She gave Paige’s hand one last encouraging squeeze and disappeared out the front door, letting the bell ring out loudly in her wake.

Paige should have been dancing around like a fool, thrilled to be bestowed such an honor by her best friend, but she was too consumed by the fact that they’d just been talking about Cohen Beckett and then he’d shown up. Just like that.

Almost like lovey-dovey voodoo stuff.

The young boy was still ogling the cheesecake cooler, pointing emphatically at the key lime one with a twisted lime garnish on top, but Cohen was staring after Allison, even after the door had swung closed.

‘Should I be worried about the smug little smirk she was wearing?’ he asked, turning toward the front counter, where Paige still stood, motionless. His tone was light, but it was enough to break the spell that had rooted her in place, and she rounded the counter, untying her yellow daisy-covered apron and tossing it onto the counter as she went.

‘Don’t worry about her,’ she assured him. ‘She’s had a long day, and it ended with some really great news, so she’s bound to be a little scatterbrained.’

‘Great news, huh?’

‘Looks like there’s going to be a wedding in a few months,’ Paige replied, mimicking Allison’s gesture and cupping her hand as though it was a secret. ‘But you didn’t hear it from me.’

Cohen glanced back toward the door where Allison had long since disappeared. ‘Wow, Chris finally got up the nerve. About time.’ He caught Paige’s gaze and chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.’

She dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. ‘I’m not worried. If the small-town rumor mill is anything like I’ve been warned, I’m pretty sure everyone and their mother is going to know by tomorrow, anyway.’

‘Everyone and their mother’s mother,’ Cohen corrected her. ‘News travels fast in Port Landon, trust me.’ He pointed toward the boy, now beside the front counter, hands pressed up against the glass as he oohed and ahhed over the cookies and selection of cupcakes left over from this morning’s baking efforts. ‘Speaking of that, this is my son, Bryce. And not only has he heard the rave reviews about your bakery, he fell in love with your chocolate fudge cake last night. Bryce, come and meet Paige, then you can choose your next sugar coma.’

The boy grudgingly peeled himself away from the display case, coming over to stand beside his father. ‘Hey, Paige,’ he said in a voice that sounded shy around the edges. He nudged into Cohen’s side as he spoke. Obviously he preferred to focus on the cakes and cookies rather than her. But his manners were stronger than his timid first impression because the boy stuck a hand out to shake hers.

‘Hello, Bryce.’ She shook his hand and watched as Cohen wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders in encouragement. ‘I hear you’re a pretty big chocolate fan.’

‘The biggest.’ He gestured wildly to show her just how much. And just like that, the shyness dissipated. ‘You make the best cake. Like, ever.’

Paige beamed, stealing a glance up at Cohen, who looked just as amused. ‘Thank you. That’s the best compliment. Like, ever.’ She clapped her hands together, then waved a hand around the room. ‘What did you have in mind today?’

In true childlike fashion, Bryce theatrically pressed a finger to his chin, contemplating his choices as he took in his surroundings. ‘Something colorful. Something that tastes like … fun.’

She couldn’t hold back her soft chuckle. ‘Fun, huh? Well, I don’t think I’ve ever had a request for that flavor before, but maybe, since you’re the expert and all, you and I can come up with something together?’ She held a hand out for him to take, giving Cohen time to intervene if he thought she was overstepping. Cohen only nodded, watching with a crooked smile as Bryce slipped his fingers between hers. ‘So, tell me, dear expert, what does fun taste like?’

The boy looked up at her, stopping in front of the cheesecake cooler once again, his eyes twinkling. ‘It’s not any one thing, Paige,’ he explained. ‘When you know, you know.’

Chapter 4
Cohen

Cohen’s day had been jam-packed with back-to-back appointments, not to mention the emergency call that had come in from the Richardsons stating their German shepherd, Lulu, had tried to make friends with a porcupine and it became a prickly situation. Luckily for Lulu, she’d had enough sense to back away at the first cluster of quills in her nose, so there hadn’t been many to pull, and the ones that were there were removed easily enough without the use of heavy anesthesia. Lulu even accepted a few treats as a truce with Cohen after the ordeal.

Needless to say, by the time the clinic sign had been turned from Open to Closed, Cohen was ready to head home and relax. In theory, anyway. His promise to Bryce hadn’t been forgotten.

The boy was vibrating with excitement by the time he careened through the clinic door and announced his arrival. The first words out of his mouth were, ‘I’m ready to go to the bakery, Dad!’ Cohen knew he had no chance of getting out of it today.

Thankfully, there was still a small part of him that was anticipating the trip, which was a fact he couldn’t bring himself to contemplate too closely. He fed kibble to Jazz, being careful to put warm water on it and stir it up just the way she liked it before setting it down. He checked her water dish and filled it, too. Jazz slept at the clinic at night instead of trudging through the path in the backyard to Cohen’s house. Everyone adored the dog – everyone except Bryce’s cat, Norman, who seemed to think Jazz was a little too rambunctious and in-your-face for his liking. Jazz never seemed to mind her makeshift bedroom in the downstairs office. Most days, she was so tired after a full day of greeting clients and being the clinic’s entertainment that she was already snoring loudly in her oversized dog bed before they even left for the evening.

With the promise to return and take her for a long walk in a bit, Cohen walked through the back path toward home and changed into jeans and a plaid shirt over a plain white T-shirt. He shoved the on-call cellphone into his pocket, feeling rejuvenated at having somewhere to go. Someone to see. Again, he shook his head, not wanting to ponder that thought.

No amount of rejuvenation was going to help him keep up with Bryce, though. The ten-year-old’s energy and ambition were no match for the weariness he currently felt at thirty-six. Most days, he could handle the fast pace of the clinic and the physical demands that came with it, but sometimes it was hard to keep up. Sometimes, the tiredness became too much to bear, something he couldn’t see past and couldn’t get around. The exhaustion wasn’t just what he felt, it was who he was. What he’d become.

When Cohen bought the clinic eleven years ago, he never dreamed he and Stacey wouldn’t be side by side to run it together. His wife had been a veterinarian, one of the best as far as he was concerned. Buying the clinic had been a joint venture.

A joint venture he now tackled daily. Alone. Not even his career could give him reprieve from the loss he harbored since Stacey’s passing, being just another cruel daily reminder that his life was a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces that would never be found.

Cohen would never blame Stacey, but the demands of running a veterinary practice, coupled with the struggles of raising an adolescent by himself … it was a lot to handle for one man. He did it, every day, and Cohen thought he did it reasonably well, all things considered. But he lived for the moments when work, responsibilities, and old-fashioned adulting weren’t the only things he had to keep him company.

‘Slow down!’ he hollered after Bryce. ‘This isn’t a race.’ But Bryce had already disappeared around the corner. He believed that’s exactly what it was. Cohen chuckled to himself as he rounded the corner, far behind him, and saw the heavy glass door about three shops up swing closed. His son was lightning-fast, he would give him that. And he’d probably have six cakes on the counter ready to purchase by the time Cohen got there to stop him. But it was good to see him excited about something that wasn’t electronics related. The kids his age needed more stimulation than just video games and apps to advance their minds, and Cohen was happy to see Bryce so enthralled with something.

Even if it was a place that sold sugar highs.

The bell chimed above his head as he pushed the door open, and while he had expected to see Bryce’s wide eyes staring at him as he begged for more baked goods to take home, Cohen hadn’t expected the other two sets of bulging eyes that stared at him like he’d just done something outlandish.

While he couldn’t be certain, he had a sneaking suspicion they had been talking about him. That’s why he’d switched topics so quickly once Allison’s big news came up; it was an easy out from the awkwardness.

Things became anything but awkward, though, when Paige took the reins and led Bryce on a hunt for the perfect treat to buy. Watching them together, seeing his son so animated and comfortable, and seeing Paige interact with him so effortlessly – it made his heart ache with a swell of pride and joy. It was good for Bryce to converse with other adults. He was like a little adult himself, so maybe that was why he did it with such finesse. Cohen was still gawking around the shop, taking in the intricate designs and garnishes that topped the tower of cake slices in the countertop display case, trying to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on Paige and Bryce’s conversation about the importance of cream filling in relation to the decadence of a homemade doughnut, when his son’s cheering erupted from behind him.

‘Eureka!’ Bryce cried. Cohen turned to see the young boy holding a silver plate high above his head like a trophy. On it, a massive slice of bright orange cheesecake was displayed, piled high with lush strawberries, blueberries, and an orange slice, all buried underneath a generous dollop of whipped cream. ‘Look, Dad, it’s fun on a plate!’

Cohen burst out laughing. ‘I’d say.’ He closed the gap between them, turning the plate in Bryce’s hands from side to side, admiring it. ‘I think this is where you invite me to share it with you, because, son, I don’t think you can eat that whole thing by yourself.’

‘Challenge accepted!’ Bryce exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Yikes,’ Paige interjected. ‘If I’d known this was going to turn into a battle between you two, I would have brought the second piece out quicker.’ She held out an identical silver plate for Cohen, shrugging as she whispered, ‘I wouldn’t want you to have to fight him for it.’

‘Good call,’ Cohen quipped. ‘My bets would be on him.’

‘Mine, too.’

‘We’ll take both pieces!’ Bryce took his plate and pushed it up onto the front counter.

Cohen pursed his lips, shaking his head at his son’s antics. ‘Which, I guess, is code for I’ll pay for both pieces.’

‘Just one,’ Paige insisted. ‘My treat. I got you roped into it, after all.’

‘Just wait till the sugar high kicks in. I’ll be sending him back your way to deal with him until he crashes.’

She chuckled, ringing the sale into the register. ‘Good thing it’s closing time.’

‘It’s a small town, Paige,’ Cohen joked. ‘I know where you live.’

‘Yeah, that’s not creepy at all,’ she replied ruefully.

Cohen pressed a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. ‘Damn, creepy, huh? Not my best joke, then.’

‘Not the worst I’ve heard,’ Paige countered. ‘But definitely not your finest, I’m sure. Besides, everyone knows where I live.’

‘See, that’s creepy.’

She laughed softly, a sound that resonated somewhere deep inside him. ‘No, that’s just small-town life,’ she replied. ‘Or so I’ve been told. Repeatedly.’

‘Sounds to me like you’re getting the hang of small-town living, Paige.’

‘You might be right,’ she agreed. ‘With a little help, I’ll get by just fine.’ The twinkle in her eyes made him hear questions she wasn’t actually asking, and the flicker of a flirty grin made him wonder if he was seeing things. The expression showed off her natural beauty, a simple femininity that went far beyond the bit of makeup she wore. He let out a long breath.

‘Right. I …’ Should say something. Offer her help if she ever needed it. Or maybe—

‘Dad …’

Cohen glanced down to see Bryce bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet.

‘We’ve still got to walk Jazz before I can dig into this monstrous cake, remember? Can we go now?’ The boy’s eyes pleaded with his father, but Cohen just patted him on the shoulder.

‘Easy, now. Don’t be rude. We’ve got to pay, then we can go get Jazz.’ He pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and passed it to Paige. ‘Keep the change. You and I both know we’ll be back before long.’

Paige didn’t look prepared to argue that fact. ‘You two might just become my best customers.’

‘Another challenge accepted,’ Bryce assured her. ‘Now, let’s haul this cake home and get this show on the road, Dad!’

Laughter erupted from Paige’s mouth, and Cohen couldn’t help but join in. ‘He has manners, I swear.’

‘It’s the cake talking. I get it.’ Paige closed the cash register and made short work of putting the cake plates into large takeout boxes. ‘Sounds like you’d better get home to Jazz.’ She added, ‘Whom I just realized is a dog, by the way.’

Cohen’s eyes narrowed, humor alight within them. ‘Who did you think Jazz was, then?’

‘All you said when you were here yesterday was that you had to get back to Jazz, which I just assumed was short for Jasmine or something.’

‘Like Princess Jasmine,’ Bryce cut in. ‘You know, from Aladdin.’

Cohen piled one cake box on top of the next. ‘Well, Jazz is a princess, I can attest to that. Actually, she’s probably more of a diva than a princess. But, yes, she’s a dog. And a one of a kind one at that.’

‘She sounds wonderful,’ Paige said.

‘You should come and meet her,’ Cohen offered before he had time to talk himself out of it. ‘I mean, come for a walk with us. I’m sure Bryce would get a kick out of showing you around town.’ He took a breath. ‘I would, too.’

What in God’s name was he doing?

Paige looked just as stunned as he felt, but she quickly composed herself. ‘I’d love to, but I still need to close up the shop and then go upstairs and change into something that doesn’t smell like, well, a bakery.’

‘I don’t know a person in this world who would complain about that smell.’ Cohen laughed. ‘And those are the perks of living above your shop, yeah? Getting to just run upstairs whenever you need to. I’m thankful every day that our house is directly behind the clinic. It makes things so much easier.’

‘I won’t argue with you about the convenience,’ she replied, turning the lights off in the display case beside the register.

Maybe that was why he’d invited her along on their walk. Because he and Paige had something in common. Even if that commonality was simply a business to run and a home that wasn’t far from that business. Maybe she would understand what it was like to struggle to maintain the division between the two. Yes, that was his reasoning for the invite. Nothing more.

‘Do me a favor and don’t argue with me about the walk, either.’ He gave her a faint grin, wondering if his own eyes shone with the amusement he saw staring back at him. ‘We still need to take these cakes home and pick up Jazz. Does that give you enough time to close up?’

Paige stared at him, her gaze fixed on his. Whatever she was searching for within his eyes, she must have found it, because she turned back toward the clock, scrutinized it, then whirled around. ‘I can be ready in fifteen minutes. How does that sound?’

‘I’d say it sounds … pretty perfect to me. Get ready for the grand tour of Port Landon, Paige.’

It had been on the tip of his tongue to use the old adage, ‘Sounds like a date.’ Even though the woman had proven she could handle a joke, he didn’t want to come across as presumptuous if taken the wrong way. Thankfully, he had managed to stop himself in time, before the foreign words slipped off his tongue and caused him to make a damn fool of himself.

Besides, it wasn’t a date. He knew that. He hadn’t meant it as such when he invited her along. He was just being a friendly neighbor. A good citizen. A friend to someone who had few others to spend time with in a new town. And he didn’t want it to be a date.

Or did he? No. He couldn’t.

No matter what Sonya Ritter thought. The older woman had always been good to him, a friendly face when he needed one, even when he didn’t deserve it. That was just how she was with everyone in Port Landon. They didn’t call her a mother hen for nothing. But he knew damn well the wheels in her head were turning. They always were, and she didn’t need any help with finding reasons to think things were something they weren’t.

Paige was just locking the big steel door that led upstairs to her apartment above the bakery as Cohen and Bryce strolled around the corner. From a distance, she looked much younger than her early thirties, and with her long, dark hair, trendy jeans, and sleeveless top, he knew she could easily be mistaken for a woman in her early twenties instead.

The second Jazz caught a glimpse of her up the sidewalk, she pulled relentlessly on the retractable leash, making poor Bryce stumble forwards. Cohen caught him before he fell, fisting the back of his T-shirt in his hand.

Cohen didn’t usually allow for it, but once he knew Paige had seen them, he unclipped Jazz’s leash from her matching purple collar and let her run full-tilt toward her, running in the bouncy way only Jazz did, with her front paws moving as one, prodding along like a not-so-graceful deer instead of the seventy-five pound dog she was. She plowed straight into Paige’s arms, who had crouched down and steeled herself for the dog’s weight to hit her. Jazz bounced, and licked Paige’s face, and hopped, and licked her face some more.

‘Wow, I think she likes you.’ Cohen had run to catch up to the dog, making sure Bryce was hot on his heels.

Paige laughed as Jazz attacked her the only way she knew how – one lick after another with her oversized tongue. ‘I think I like her, too.’ Paige ruffled the dog’s brindle fur, and the dog slowly began to calm, pushing up against her and relishing in the attention. ‘Ah, that’s what she really looks like. All I could see was the inside of her mouth as she came at me in a furry blur.’

‘Dad calls her the Jazzmanian Devil,’ Bryce informed her.

‘That’s a very suiting name, I must say.’

Paige couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the boxer, and the sight of someone else falling instantly in love with the dog warmed Cohen’s heart. ‘Princess. Diva. Devil. Doesn’t matter what you call her, she’s still the perfect dog. With some quirks, of course,’ Cohen said.

‘Well, we’ve all got some quirks, don’t we?’ Paige held Jazz’s wrinkled face in her hands, talking directly to the dog. ‘It’s so nice to meet you, Jazz.’

‘We’d better be careful, Bryce, or we’re going to lose our walking partner to Jazz and her charm.’

Paige looked up, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Hey, you can’t fault me for falling for her; you’re the one who brought her here,’ she reminded him. She gave the dog one last pat on the head and rose to her feet. ‘She sure is a great dog. You two are very lucky to have her.’

‘Maybe Paige can be Jazz’s forever home, Dad.’ Bryce nudged his dad’s arm to get his attention.

‘She isn’t your dog?’ Paige wore a confused expression as she looked between Cohen and his son.

‘Well, kind of,’ Bryce explained. ‘She stays at the clinic because Norman doesn’t like her very much.’

‘Norman?’

‘My cat,’ the young boy said. ‘Jazz doesn’t have a forever home, so she stays at the clinic with Dad and his coworkers because everybody loves her there.’

Paige, to her credit, glanced down at the dog, who was still gazing up at her with loving brown eyes and a waggling tongue, and wilted slightly. ‘Aww, Jazz, I’m sorry. That must be so hard, pretty girl.’

‘Trust me,’ Cohen added, ‘She’s not upset about it, by any means. That dog gets more attention and love from Bryce and me than the average dog with a real home. And frankly, the staff are crazy about her. We’re at the clinic more than we’re at home, anyway. As far as Jazz is concerned, we’re her family. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s exactly what she is, too. Our family.’

‘Unless someone special came along to take her home,’ Bryce countered quickly, giving his dad a knowing look and trying to discreetly point to Paige without drawing her attention.

Paige chuckled at the boy’s antics. ‘Jazz is wonderful, believe me. But I don’t think the bakery is the place for her, unfortunately.’

‘Agreed!’ Bryce exclaimed. ‘That’s why you need to take her home!’

‘I can’t believe no one has come forward to adopt her.’ She looked genuinely perplexed, which only added to Cohen’s pride of the dog and her gentle mannerisms. ‘She’s just so … friendly.’

‘Wait till she smiles at you with her lips tucked up, showing off her crooked teeth. She’ll steal your heart, then.’ He watched Jazz, who watched Paige just as intently. ‘The reality is, she’s four years old, so her chances of adoption are slimmer than most. People want puppies, not mature dogs.’

‘Dad, there’s nothing mature about Jazz,’ Bryce scoffed. ‘She’s a puppy trapped in an adult dog’s body. Obviously.’ The boy did his best Vanna White impersonation, framing his hands around the dog to put her on display, waggling his eyebrows at Paige, silently daring her not to fall in love with the brindle dog.

He couldn’t hold in his amusement, and Cohen let his laughter erupt, shaking his head. ‘Sorry, Paige. My boy is nothing if not persistent.’

‘Gee, I hadn’t noticed.’

‘We’d better get that ice cream quick.’ Cohen pointed down the street where the water’s edge was seen a few blocks away. ‘I think it’s safe to say it’s the only chance you’re going to get a moment’s reprieve from his relentless badgering about this.’

‘I won’t forget, you know,’ Bryce piped up, handing the leash to his father. ‘Even after ice cream.’

‘No,’ Cohen replied, heading down the sidewalk with Jazz in tow as Paige fell into step beside him. ‘I didn’t think you would.’

Chapter 5
Paige

Despite officially living in Port Landon for three months, Paige had made little time to really explore the lakeside town she now called home. She had spent every waking minute preparing for the grand opening of her bakery, making sure every detail that she could control was perfect, and that nothing was overlooked. Renovations, remodeling, plans for displays and specials. Paige Henley was a planner, an organizer. And now that the grand opening had come and gone, and been successful, she was glad for it.

Her hope that she would be welcomed in the little town was also fulfilled, it seemed. As she, Cohen, and Bryce ambled their way down the sidewalk, past the stone building that housed the town hall and the old Victorian-style houses that were the pride and joy of most of the population here, they were greeted by a handful of people. Some, she knew; others, she didn’t. Most of them, she thought she recognized, but Paige couldn’t put a name to the face.

They knew who she was, though. Everyone called her by name, whether it was the middle-aged woman in workout wear they passed on the sidewalk – Amelia Harris, the town’s treasurer, according to Cohen – or the older gentleman with sprigs of gray hair tufting out under his straw hat – Old Man Weston, Cohen called him affectionately.

‘He was already standing outside your bakery before you even opened the doors yesterday morning,’ Cohen advised. ‘I saw him on my way into the clinic.’

She had met so many people in the last forty-eight hours that Paige wasn’t sure she would ever get everybody’s names straight. But everyone she came across seemed to remember her and have a friendly wave or greeting. After only a few months as a resident and a couple of days as an official business owner, that made her feel pretty good.

They turned off Main Street onto Crescent Street, and she marveled at how perfectly aligned the row of tall trees was that lined the road. The leaves, dark green and lush in the high summer sun, created a canopy over the road, only permitting sporadic kaleidoscopic patterns of sunshine to make it through the thick veil. Everything about the town was picturesque, from the vintage-looking red mailboxes that marked the end of each driveway, to the tall houses with their unique moldings and fancy pillars. The downtown core wasn’t the only row of buildings to boast red brick and wrought iron pegs that jutted out toward the sidewalk to hold old-fashioned shingles. If the homes in Port Landon weren’t tall wooden-sided structures with a Victorian flare, nestled in big yards with feathery shrubs and oversized maple and hemlock trees, they were massive brick estate homes with elegant trimmings and high, pointed roofs. Many had towers, rounded rooms with or without windows. Paige idly wondered what those towers housed. Many places they passed had signs outside on their lawns or hanging beside the driveways – Cindy’s Sewing and Dressmaking, Port Landon Dog Grooming, Antiques For Sale.

The residents of Port Landon were industrious, it seemed.

They talked about everything and nothing. With Cohen’s prompting, Paige told him about the life she’d left behind in New York. Even as she described it, with its fast pace and its long hours, she realized that it was no kind of life at all. Not for her, anyway. Once she began, the words seemed to tumble easily off her tongue. Cohen was surprisingly easy to talk to, and New York was even easier to talk about. It only fortified her conviction that she had made the right choice. Her life in New York wasn’t something she yearned to close the door on and never revisit again, it was just a chapter that had come to a close, allowing her to turn the page and begin a new one.

‘I can’t imagine what it’s like to come from the heart of New York City to a laid-back town like Port Landon,’ Cohen said. ‘You must think we’re all country bumpkins.’

‘Hardly,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve only been here a few months, but people have been friendlier and more interested in what I’m trying to do than I ever experienced in the city.’

‘Most people would call that being nosy.’ Cohen didn’t miss a step, pointing toward the end of the street where the hill gave the illusion that it somehow ended in the middle of the lake. Paige just caught sight of Bryce and Jazz disappearing over the hill.

‘You say nosy, I say it’s different, that’s all.’

‘Do you miss it?’

Paige thought about that. ‘I was good at my job, and I lived for it. But there came a point where I had to ask myself … was I really living at all?’ For a brief moment, she was embarrassed. It was difficult to confide such a simple truth to someone – that she’d realized the ever-turning hamster wheel of the business world was no longer for her, that she was burned out and exhausted from climbing the proverbial ladder that she would never reach the top of, and that the trajectory of her own path had changed, almost without her realizing it. Especially to someone she barely knew.

That was the thing, though. She might have only met Cohen yesterday, yet the easy back-and-forth between them was effortless. Paige hadn’t realized she craved this kind of companionship until she experienced it. Maybe her job in New York had robbed her of more than just her time. Maybe it had prevented her from having the chance of having this kind of social interaction before now, prevented her from putting down real roots and finding someone to share her time with.

‘I think if you have to ask, then it’s safe to say you made the right decision by leaving.’ Cohen stole a glance at her. ‘And by moving here.’

A faint blush rose in Paige’s cheeks. ‘So far, I would most definitely agree with you. It’s good having Allison so close by, too.’

‘I still can’t believe Chris finally popped the question,’ Cohen stated following a chuckle. ‘It’s been years. I was starting to believe he was just holding out in order to drive the town nuts.’

Paige laughed, a whole-hearted sound that echoed off the treed walls of the canopy-covered street. ‘I knew it would happen eventually, even though Allison always made such a grand attempt at making it sound like she was okay with waiting to get married. She’s been waiting for this moment, she just won’t admit it outright.’

‘Women,’ Cohen quipped. ‘Saying one thing, expecting another.’

Paige gave him a playful, narrowed-eyed glare. ‘Trust me, I don’t think men always want to hear what women are really thinking. We might shock you.’

‘Now, that’s intriguing.’

The blacktop ended abruptly, making way for the boardwalk that lined the lakeshore, leading out onto the rows of docks. Multiple boats of all different sizes were tied to the metal anchors on either side of the wooden platforms, bobbing in the gentle breeze that Paige hadn’t noticed until they broke out from under the canopy of trees.

Bryce’s laughter carried through the air like a song, and Paige followed the sound to see the young boy and the dog bouncing happily farther up the boardwalk, which was where she could only assume the pier jutted out.

From here, the town seemed so much bigger, with the expanse of the docks and lakeshore stretching out far in the distance.

‘Wow, this place looks like heaven,’ Paige breathed out, her eyes locked on the boardwalk. She could feel the warmth of the wooden boards emanating from beneath her feet through her flip-flops.

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Cohen looked back, realized she had stopped in her tracks, and made his way back to her, staring out toward the mouth of the pier, just as she was. ‘Still miss New York City?’

‘New York what?’ She offered him a coy wink, then shuffled out of her sandals, plucked them from the ground, and took off running in the direction of Bryce and Jazz. There was something magical about having the sun beating down on her, with the boats lined up on her right and the grid of streets and trees swaying in the breeze to her left. Paige had lived for her career in the city – at least, that’s what she thought she’d been doing.

Right then, she felt free. Real, true freedom. And it occurred to her that maybe there was a part of her that had been held captive during her time amongst the hustle and bustle. This, right here, wasn’t just existing.

This was living.

Paige jogged up to where Bryce stood, waiting impatiently for his father and her to catch up.

‘About time, slow pokes,’ he taunted. ‘Even Jazz beat you here, and she’s got a messed-up back.’

Paige was breathless, but it felt good to have her blood pumping through her veins with some fervor. ‘What’s wrong with Jazz’s back?’

It was Cohen that answered her question from behind her. ‘Diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis.’

Paige crinkled her forehead. ‘In layman’s terms, please, Doctor.’

‘DISH, it’s called.’ Cohen shrugged. ‘Basically, her spine has calcification that causes her to move more stiffly than other dogs, and there’s no real reason for it. It’s common in boxers, and Jazz’s case is relatively minor.’

‘Is she in pain?’ Paige asked, casting a glance at the dog. She certainly didn’t look in pain, with her tongue drooping from her mouth and her tail wagging wildly.

‘Not at all,’ Cohen promised. ‘She takes an anti-inflammatory every morning and every evening, but what you see is what you get. She’s a happy dog with a solid veterinary team behind her, monitoring her closely. Like I said, she just moves a little differently than other dogs.’ The corner of Cohen’s mouth turned up. ‘But in case you haven’t noticed, Jazz isn’t exactly like other dogs in any way, shape, or form, so I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

Paige chuckled, bending to give the dog an affectionate pat on the head. ‘I know, I know. She’s the Jazzmanian Devil.’

‘That, she is,’ Cohen agreed. ‘So, we made it to the pier. What’s next on the agenda, Bryce?’

The boy made a scene of whirling around as though assessing the situation, but Paige could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was going to suggest. ‘Ice cream!’

‘I knew that was coming,’ Cohen assured Paige. ‘Lead the way, Bryce. We’ll catch up.’

Bryce and Jazz took off ahead of them, and Paige watched as Jazz ambled along with the boy. Now that she knew what she was looking for, she could see the odd way in which the dog moved about. In no way did it seem to be slowing her down any, though. It made Paige’s heart swell to see the dog so happy and content despite having so much stacked against her.

‘So, with Allison’s wedding coming up, I suppose that means you’ll have a big, fancy cake to create?’

Paige smiled, eager at the mere thought of it. ‘I can’t wait. As soon as Allison fills me in on her wedding colors and her ideas for it – and she’s going to have a million ideas, I’m sure – I’ll be starting on trial runs to get the design and flavor perfect.’

‘I volunteer to test out those trial runs,’ Cohen offered. ‘I know a ten-year-old boy who would be a damn good candidate, too.’

‘Duly noted,’ Paige replied wryly. ‘But I think we should probably let the bride-to-be taste the wedding cake.’

He scoffed at the idea. ‘Fine, but I’m not above snatching up the leftovers. Just saying.’

‘Again, duly noted.’ The playful note in their back-and-forth had her struggling to hide a grin. She wasn’t above giving him the leftovers, either. Chances were, she was going to drive herself insane over this cake. By the time she managed to get it just right, she would be tired of seeing wedding cakes for quite a while. At least, ones that resembled Allison’s.

Normally, Paige viewed silence between two people as awkward, and the first thing she would do is fear she should be saying something more. But the silence between them was easy, and she didn’t feel that anxious tightening in her chest to fill it the way she once did.

‘Have you ever been married, Paige?’

Whatever she had expected him to say next, it wasn’t that. ‘That was blunt.’

‘Sorry,’ he said, wincing. ‘I guess I’m not good at beating around the bush.’

‘No need to apologize. I actually think I appreciate that sort of matter-of-factness about you.’ Her gaze flitted up toward him for a brief moment. ‘And no, I didn’t leave an ex-husband or sordid backstory in New York City.’

‘Well, damn, because I do love a sordid backstory.’ Cohen reached out, pointing at the pavilion they were getting close to. ‘Let me guess, no time for dating or relationships due to your breakneck schedule?’

Paige saw the sign for the Old Port Ice Cream Shoppe, and she laughed at Cohen’s candid remark. ‘You hit the nail on the head. It was hard to find time for other people when I barely had time for myself. Therefore, I’m a cliché – always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Or, in Allison’s case, I guess I’m the maid of honor, but you know what I mean.’

‘And that bothers you.’

This time, his comment was enough to make her stop abruptly. Paige looked up at him with wide eyes. She didn’t know what should have bothered her more, that she wasn’t confident that she’d never truly had time for other relationships so much as just never made time, or that Cohen read her like an open book. ‘Maybe,’ she answered, cautious.

‘Sorry.’ Cohen held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Innocent observation, I swear. I could hear the tinge of longing in your voice.’

She wondered if she should be angry that he’d called her out on the regret she had a hard time veiling in her tone. The thing was, she wasn’t upset at all. There was something calming about having someone else point it out, willing to let her know how evident her want for a romantic relationship was. What Paige wondered was if his ease at picking up on it was because he understood the feeling all too well himself. ‘Since I’ve been here, I’ve had time to think, and I’ve been wondering if I’ve wasted so much time climbing the corporate ladder, I’ve missed my chances at ever being the woman that has that kind of life.’

‘I’m going to assume there was a time in your life when you thought you’d missed your chance at ever owning your own bakery, too, right? But it happened.’ Cohen’s hazel eyes locked with hers as he stepped ahead and opened the white wooden screen door that led inside the ice cream shop.

Paige sighed. ‘Cohen Beckett, you’re such a smart man.’

‘They don’t call me doctor for nothing.’ He gestured for her to pass by him. ‘Besides, you just have to stay positive. Things happen in their own good time, and everything happens for a reason. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.’

Paige stepped inside the shop, and a blast of cool air hit her flushed cheeks. It was frigid in the little storefront compared to the sun-kissed boardwalk outside. She was surprised to see Bryce sitting in the corner booth furthest from the ice cream counter, Jazz plopped down beside him on the floor, panting incessantly with the biggest smile on her jowly face. She didn’t think they would allow a dog in here, but she’d learned not to question things like that. Some things were done a little differently in Port Landon.

‘That’s what you tell yourself, huh?’ she countered. ‘Like a daily mantra, I assume.’

‘Nah, more like a rock.’ Before Paige could ask what in the world he was talking about, Cohen pulled a small, smooth object from his pocket and dropped it into her hands. ‘I carry that around with me to remind me. Think positive.’

Paige turned the beige stone over in her hands. It was warm from the heat of Cohen’s body and smooth to the touch save for the engravings on both sides of it. One side boasted a simple pawprint with a heart in the middle of it. The other had Think Pawsitive scrolled across it in dark brown lettering.

‘My wife gave that to me a long time ago.’

The words made Paige’s head snap up.

‘She passed away eight years ago,’ he continued, nodding toward the rock. ‘But, as I said, it’s a reminder to think positive. And, sometimes, all we need is that reminder.’

Paige searched Cohen’s face. There was a shadow in his eyes, darkening the brownish green of his irises, but the small hint of a crooked smile proved he wasn’t looking for sympathy in his confession. It also proved they shared a common ground – a thinly veiled fear that their time for love had come and gone, and they both clung tightly to the hope that fate would give them a second chance someday.

‘A little positive thinking can go a long way, Paige.’

Her gaze had migrated back down to the little stone in her hands, along with her thoughts. Cohen’s voice pulled her back to the here and now, and she let out a long breath as she held the rock out for him. ‘So can ice cream.’

Chapter 6
Cohen

It was almost midnight, but Cohen couldn’t fall asleep. Spending a few hours in the fading sun with Bryce, Jazz, and Paige after a full day’s work should have left him exhausted, but every time he closed his eyes he could still see the way the sunlight danced as it reflected in Paige’s sapphire eyes, and he could still hear the full-blown laughter erupting from Bryce as he joked and enjoyed himself out on the pier.

It wasn’t the first time they had gone to the pier after a workday, but it was the first time they’d brought someone else along with them. Usually, Bryce and Cohen were content in each other’s company, as they had been for the past eight years. And until today, Cohen believed he was content with the little life he had with his son and the vet clinic.

Until today.

Now, he lay in bed, the covers still pulled back and the bedside lamp still shining dim light across the room, listening to his son’s soft, even breathing from across the hall. This was the life they had, the routine they had fallen into. It had served them well, despite being forced into it by tragedy. Work and school, evenings filled with homework and walks, nights spent in bed by ten o’clock at the latest so they could both get up and do it all again tomorrow.

It was simple and easy. And until today, Cohen had thought it was enough. He’d been a slave to his routine for so long he found it hard to remember what it had been like when Stacey had been with them. Not that he couldn’t recall the things that mattered – her smile and her warm gaze, her adoration of her son and her unabashed love for him. Those things came to him with a vivid clarity. It was the minutes and days and time spent apart he couldn’t remember. Like his tangible distance from Stacey was the deciding factor of what was important enough to remain etched into his brain.

He thought he had coped well following the car accident that took her from him. As well as a man in his twenties with a toddler son could cope. There were days he didn’t see how he could continue on, how he could survive one more second with the knowledge of knowing Stacey was gone. But there were more days, as his grief transformed into a simmering bitterness, that Cohen had awoken in the morning, determined to prove to Port Landon’s residents that he didn’t need their sympathy or charity or help to raise his son. He threw himself into his role as a single father, desperate to prove to them, and to himself, that he could raise Bryce in a way that would have made Stacey proud. He could do right by her through their son, even if he hadn’t been able to protect her from the accident that ripped away the life she’d worked so hard to build. The life they had built.

It had been eight years – years that seemed on one hand to have been long and drawn out, and on the other hand had gone by in the blink of an eye – and Cohen was proud of the boy Bryce had become as a result of his efforts. He had wanted so damn badly to make Stacey proud. Of Bryce. Of him.

And he had achieved that, Cohen knew it. What he didn’t know was if his own complacency and contentment in being just the two of them had hindered Bryce in some way. His son had talked of nothing but Paige the entire way home after they’d walked her to her apartment door beside the bakery storefront. The boy had relished in having someone else to show off to, someone to tell his jokes to and be a kid around. Bryce and Paige had also bonded over Jazz, and the dog seemed to love Paige just as much.

It had been the perfect evening – ice cream and walking along the boardwalk while the sun disappeared behind the trees, with his son and his new friend.

It had been a long time since Cohen could say he had one of those. Not unlike her, he had spent the bulk of his time intent on running his business and raising Bryce. There had been no time for close friendships. Acquaintances, sure – he had a lot of those in town. But no one he could remember spending time with outside of work hours.

Even now, Cohen wasn’t sure if he was being truthful to himself about his reasons for his inactive social life. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he hadn’t had the time to build one, as that he hadn’t made the time to have one. He wasn’t even sure he’d realized he needed one. It was just another thing in the long line of revelations that were coming to him tonight.

The wailing of sirens ripped him from his thoughts. With the window open, he knew the emergency service vehicle was heading right past the front of his house. Cohen was one of those people that never could tell the sound of a police siren from a fire truck or ambulance, so he hoisted himself from the bed, clad in blue plaid pajama pants and a white T-shirt, to see if he could catch a glimpse of whatever was coming.

Cohen’s little bungalow was situated behind the clinic, and it faced the opposite way, out onto Hemlock Street, which ran parallel to the downtown stretch on Main. When he saw the fire engine careen past, with its red and white lights blazing and its sirens screeching in the silence of the night, another revelation hit him deep in the chest.

Maybe Paige’s life in New York City had been hectic and chaotic, but he’d bet that when she heard sirens scream in the city, she didn’t end up with acid burning in the pit of her stomach because of it. That was both the blessing and the curse of small-town life – when something happened to someone, it happened to everyone. And when something affected someone, it was a given that if Cohen didn’t know the afflicted party personally, he would know someone who did. No one was an unknown face in the crowd. People had names, and families, and history within the town limits.

Living in a small town was simple and as good as it got on most days. During nights like tonight, however, it was downright scary, and Cohen doubted sleep was on the cards anytime soon.

The appointment schedule at the clinic was back to back all day. The day started off with two routine surgeries, then progressed on to a series of appointments that all seemed to carry Cohen further and further away from what he deemed a typical day as each hour passed. He wasn’t sure if the disconnect he felt from his brain was due to the challenging cases he was being presented with, or the lack of sleep he’d managed to get the night before. Either way, it felt like there wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to get him through the remaining three hours his clinic was open.

‘Dr Cohen, there’s someone here to see you.’ Alice, the receptionist, broke through his train of thought as he stood against the pharmacy counter, reading the lab work results that had just been printed off. ‘And she’s got coffee in her hand, so I’m thinking you might want to go at least get that from her. You look like you need it.’

‘Are you telling me I look awful, Alice?’ But even as he joked about it, Cohen set the sheet of paper down and made his way toward the waiting room. If he looked half as bad as he felt, he needed that coffee. Stat.

‘Not a chance,’ she assured him. ‘Just that you look like you’re asleep standing up.’

‘So, I do look how I feel.’ He patted Alice on the shoulder on his way past her. ‘Thanks for letting me know. Tell my next appointment I’ll be right in.’

In the waiting room, Paige stood in the middle of the marble tiled floor with two paper cups in her hands, steam billowing from the hole in the plastic tops.

‘I know you’re busy,’ she blurted immediately. ‘I just thought—’

‘You have no idea how happy I am to see you.’ Cohen reached out for one of the cups in her hand just as Paige held it out to him. God, did I really just say that out loud?

‘Me, or the coffee?’

‘Both,’ he replied, glad for the chance to play it down. ‘But I won’t downplay how thrilled I am to see this cup. Come on back.’

Cohen led her through the pharmacy and into the lunchroom. It was organized chaos. Magazines littered the top of the table, and the chairs hadn’t been pushed back into place when the staff used them earlier in the day. There was a desktop computer in the corner on a portable desk, where Cohen attempted to get his notes done throughout the day. It was booted up and displaying a screensaver of a litter of bulldog puppies that had been born in the clinic last year. That litter was the result of a long, drawn-out birth, requiring an emergency caesarean section, but every puppy had lived and the mother was just fine. Rhonda, the veterinary technician, had even adopted one of the puppies when they were old enough to leave their mother. Purses and backpacks were tossed along the far wall where the staff members had left them when they came in that morning.

‘It’s not the tidiest spot, but I hope it’s okay.’ Cohen pulled out one of the plastic chairs closest to the table, gesturing for Paige to have a seat.

‘It’s great,’ she assured him as she sat down. ‘I won’t stay long. I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday. The walk to the pier with you, Bryce, and Jazz was the most fun I’ve had in a while.’

Cohen pulled the chair away from the computer cart, straddling the back of it as he leaned forward against the backrest. ‘Well, thanks, but I feel like I should be thanking you. I think that’s the most fun the three of us have had in ages, too. Bryce couldn’t stop talking about it last night, or this morning. You’ll probably be the first thing he mentions when he comes home from school in about forty-five minutes.’

‘I’m glad you all had a wonderful time.’ Paige fidgeted with her coffee cup, but she offered him an easy smile.

‘We’ll have to do it again sometime.’ Cohen said it as more of a polite gesture than a concrete invitation, but there was enough uncertainty in his tone that it came out sounding more like a question. The moment the words left his lips, he wondered if he’d made a mistake, if he had been too presumptuous, if he’d made it sound like a—

‘I would like that,’ Paige replied.

Cohen fought to keep his expression neutral, a battle of relief and hesitancy warring within him. ‘Great. Me too.’ He let that sink in between them, taking a sip of hot coffee and letting it burn down his throat. ‘I know someone else who’d like it as well. Come here, I have to show you something.’

He pushed his coffee cup onto the lunchroom table, knowing the perfect distraction from the awkward conversation that was sure to follow. He led Paige out the open doorway into a hallway at the back of the clinic. To the right, the hall led to the prep room and the surgery. To the left, it led down a flight of four stairs. They went left. Cohen was shocked to discover the temptation he had to reach out for her hand as she descended the stairs. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

‘Yesterday, you saw the bouncy, crazy Jazz that acts like a typical five-year-old child,’ he explained, his lips curling upward. ‘But let me show you the real Jazz. The one that no one sees unless they live with her.’ Cohen slowly pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs, which had been left open a crack.

The sound hit them before they could even see her.

‘Is she … snoring?’ Paige covered her mouth, holding in her laughter.

Sure enough, with the door opened wide, there was Jazz, sprawled out across the biggest, most luxurious dog bed Cohen had been able to find online, snoring like a freight train. Her lips puffed out with each loud exhale of breath, and her eyes and paws twitched as she slept heavily.

‘Oh my God,’ Paige whispered. ‘She’s so adorable.’

Jazz’s eyes squinted open at the sound of her voice, and she lifted her head, the tip of her pink tongue sticking out as she glanced around, dazed, and tried to reorient herself. Cohen could see the moment of recognition. Instantly, the excitement of Paige’s presence took over. Jazz scrambled awkwardly to her feet just as Paige crouched down in front of her. The dog wasted no time in allowing herself to be enveloped by Paige’s arms, her tail wagging at sonic speed like a little propeller.

‘Hi, Jazzy girl,’ Paige cooed, running her fingers through her brown and black fur, nuzzling into the dog just as much as she was nuzzling into her.

‘I still maintain she likes you,’ Cohen attested with a knowing grin. ‘A lot.’

‘You told me she likes everyone, so stop it,’ Paige said with a laugh. ‘Do you still have appointments?’

He had completely forgotten while in Paige’s presence. Damn it. ‘Yes, a few. But no one will bother you in here if you want to stay. It’s the payroll administrator’s office and she isn’t working today, so this room is yours for the taking.’

‘Hmm,’ Paige said, dodging Jazz’s tongue as she tried to lick her face. ‘I can stay for a few minutes. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, anyway.’

‘That doesn’t sound ominous at all.’ Cohen narrowed his eyes, a thousand ideas whirling around in his mind of what the topic could be. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

Cohen closed the door behind him, leaving Paige and Jazz in their glory with each other. It wasn’t lost on him that he felt as though he could have left the room for only a second, and yet he still would have been gone from her for too long.

His remaining appointments got dragged out, stretching well over the course of an hour and a half before Cohen had the chance to step away from the exam rooms and check in on Paige and Jazz downstairs. As he bounded down the steps, he knew he was already too late.

The office door was open, and Paige was gone. So was Jazz. The sight of the empty room and even emptier dog bed deflated Cohen, replacing his anticipation with disappointment. But when he saw the note scrawled on the back of one of the blank sheets of paper pulled from the printer on the desk, Cohen’s disappointment quickly vanished.

Cohen,

Sorry, I had to head back to The Cakery, as the note I’d left on the door said I’d only be gone fifteen minutes. Jazz wanted to come with me. Bring Bryce over once the clinic is closed and you’ve had supper. I’ll handle dessert.

- Paige & Jazz

She had drawn a little pawprint beside Jazz’s name as her signature. It was a cute touch, he would give her that.

He knew Bryce was going to be elated about their impromptu dessert plans. If Cohen was honest with himself, he was as well. And while he was on an honesty kick, the truth of how happy it made him was, quite frankly, petrifying.

There were a lot of things that scared Cohen Beckett in Port Landon lately. He just never expected Paige Henley to be one of them.

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