“I go to work really early, too,” her friend admitted. “I saw you leaving his house at four in the morning. There was no other reason for you to be there.” Patience held up her hand. “I’m not judging. I’m just worried. I think it’s great you’re in love with him. We’re just worried that you can’t admit the truth to yourself.”
Shelby pushed aside her embarrassment and stared down her friends. “I’m not in love with Aidan. You’re all sweet to be concerned, but it’s fine. I’m fine. We’re—”
“We know,” they said together. “Friends.”
“We are.”
The four of them went silent. Madeline drew in a breath.
“Okay then. If you’re sure. I’ll end this the way we started. We all love you very much and we’re concerned about you.”
Shelby smiled at her. “I know, and thank you. But there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m totally and completely fine.”
“Famous last words,” Taryn muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WHEN THE FOX AND HOUND restaurant closed for its annual week of vacation, Shelby was able to use the kitchen for her baking. That allowed the contractors to pull a couple of all-nighters and finish their work one entire week early. Which was why, the week before Memorial Day, she found herself standing in front of her brand-new business, key in hand.
“You did it,” Aidan said. “Are you excited?”
“Yes. And scared. The usual conflicting emotions.”
He put his arm around her. “You’ll do great.”
He sounded exactly the same as he always did. Calm. Supportive. The man was solid. Someone she could lean on. He was nice, she trusted him and when they were intimate, he rocked her world.
Not love. Not love. She didn’t know why she felt the need to chant the words, but she did. Over and over again. A ridiculous waste of time and one that also made her feel foolish. Didn’t she want love in her life? Wasn’t that the point of this project with Aidan? To get herself ready? So if her friends were right and she had fallen in love with him, wasn’t that a good thing?
“You okay?” he asked.
She forced herself back to the topic at hand. “Yes. I’m great. Thanks for all your help with this.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did so much.” She stared at the closed door. “Want to go inside?”
“Of course.”
She turned the key over in her hand, then stepped forward. The lock turned easily. There was an alarm system and usually she would enter the bakery from the rear door, but this one time, she would start at the front and work her way back.
Directly in front of her were the cases that held the baked goods. They’d been cleaned and there was new shelving. A half-dozen bistro tables with matching chairs gave people a place to sit. There was a new coffee station on the right. She wasn’t interested in competing with Brew-haha, but had needed more than the single pot she’d had before.
She knew what was behind the counter. Racks and the cold cases. Beyond that was the old kitchen. The only change had been to add two more mixers and shelving. The real magic had happened on the other side.
She turned to her left and saw open French doors. When the tea shop was open, they would be as well. When the tea shop was closed, she could lock the doors, while preserving the sense of openness.
They walked through the small restaurant. She’d had the walls painted white. Several hutches and two buffets, all in dark wood, were spaced around the edges of the room.