The Gingerbread Bakery (Dream Harbor, #5)

by Laurie Gilmore

There was one person, however, that her delightfulness simply could not extend to. One human on this planet that she could not be nice to. Mostly because she didn’t want to. Mostly because she hated him. And for the next three days, she was stuck with him.

‘Do we know why she has such strong personal feelings?’ Kira shrugged. ‘Complicated history?’ she whispered back. ‘Not complicated,’ Annie cut in. ‘We don’t have any history at all.’ Mac flinched at that, something like sadness or regret flickering in his eyes. But Annie didn’t dwell on it. She couldn’t. Not if she wanted to keep her sanity. She pushed a smile onto her face and turned back to Jeanie.

She’d never been friends with Mac. They’d never made sense together. It was exactly what she’d told him eleven years ago. But Mac had never been good at listening.

Kira, Annie, Hazel, and Jeanie, but all he really saw was Annie. Story of his life since he moved back here. Annie was all he ever saw. Annie frowning at him. Annie scowling at him. Annie huffing and sighing and occasionally, if he was lucky, yelling at him. And because he was some kind of masochist, he still wanted to be around her.

They were all so happy, so settled. And in a group of couples, Annie had quickly become the only single left. Well, and Mac. She really needed to get more friends.

It didn’t matter if Mac knew how to sweet-talk her these days, it didn’t matter if the memories were tempting, it didn’t matter how damn good his arms felt around her. Annie had made a promise to the girl she was all those years ago. The girl who had let herself fall for a guy she knew she had no business falling for. To the girl who decided to trust and to love against her better judgement. To the girl who’d waited around for Macaulay Sullivan for a goddamn year only to be left in the dust. She’d sworn she’d never let him back into her life. And she wasn’t about to break her promise now.

‘Hold on, it’s my turn and I want you to answer the same question. Biggest fear?’ Annie didn’t skip a beat. ‘Failure.’

‘Goodnight, Annie.’ ‘Goodnight, Mac,’ she murmured, snuggling down into the blanket. It was then that he realized she was still holding his stuffed polar bear. Of course she was. He pulled his own blanket over himself and turned away from Annie to avoid any more embarrassing staring incidents. And that was how Mac had his first sleepover with a girl, and he honestly didn’t know if it was love or lust taking root, but it was definitely one of the two. Or maybe both.

‘I thought you told Logan we would be friends for the weekend. And friends check in with each other.’ Annie bit back a scoff. ‘I told Logan I would be on my best behavior. I said absolutely nothing about being your friend.’ She ignored the flicker of hurt on Mac’s face and continued her power walk to the front desk. She didn’t have time for Mac’s feelings. Just like he had never had time for hers.

‘I thought … I thought you … I mean, I thought we…’ Mac kept up his pacing, talking to the pavement instead of Annie. When he finally looked up, there was so much hurt on his face it took Annie's breath away. ‘I thought that night meant something.’ He stopped moving and the weight of his stare had Annie pinned to the side of the truck harder than his body had. She could lie. But instead found herself telling the truth. ‘It did mean something,’ she whispered. With that admission Mac stepped in closer until Annie could feel the heat of him, but he didn't touch her. She really freaking wished he would. ‘Yeah?’ he said. ‘Yeah. It meant something.’ She felt him nearly sag in relief. ‘Let me try again,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘Try again?’ He was so close now that his words brushed against her ear. ‘Let me try again.’ His voice dropped, sending shivers through Annie’s body that had nothing to do with the falling snow.

Logan dipped his head in acknowledgement, a happy smile tugging at his lips. And for a minute, Mac couldn’t identify the sensation in his gut, until he realized it was jealousy. He was jealous of his friends. Jealous of Logan for being so sure about Jeanie. Jealous of Archer for having his beautiful and pregnant girlfriend in his lap, and of Noah, who’d already married the girl of his dreams; and then there was Bennett, who spent his days so wrapped up in Kira it seemed like he required nothing else. On the night before his friend’s wedding, it hit Mac like a ton of fucking bricks. Maybe this was what he wanted, too. After years of trying to convince himself otherwise. He wanted what his friends had. And unfortunately, he knew exactly who he wanted it with.

‘I thought this could go either way,’ he said, not pulling away but speaking softly against her mouth. ‘I thought you would either be into it or punch me in the face.’ Annie’s smile met his. ‘I’m into it.’ Mac groaned before deepening the kiss. His lips pressed against hers, his arms wrapping around her waist and Annie melted into him. Fantasies don’t often live up to the hype. Kissing Mac was not like that. Kissing Mac far exceeded the fantasy.

‘Oh good, a mysterious stranger, just what I need.’ She used her hand to clear a small circle on the glass. The dark figure was much worse than a mysterious stranger. It was a very familiar pain in her ass. Mac smirked at her through the glass.

She wasn’t about to discuss with him why she thought The Gingerbread Bakery was a better name for her business.

‘Please, Annie.’ She put a hand on his chest and relished the small hitch in his breath as she opened her eyes and saw it, the hunger in his eyes. Hunger mixed with hope. And she almost felt bad before she pressed that hand harder and shoved.

‘Of course I know you, Annabelle,’ he said, and she knew immediately that she was in danger. That was the worst part about all of this. He did know her. And that was the problem. He smiled smugly as he went on.

‘And I know that a part of you wants to forgive me but you’re too damn stubborn to do it.’ That cocky grin spread across his face at her wide-eyed expression. He leaned in closer, so his words brushed across her lips. ‘But lucky for you, I’m just as stubborn. And I haven’t given up yet. Your little admission earlier today gave me even more motivation. I’m not nineteen anymore, Annie, and I don’t leave women unsatisfied.’

He pulled her closer, not wasting any time now that they were alone. ‘Can I kiss you?’ Annie's breath caught in her throat. Kissing Mac was all she had thought about for the past five days. She nodded. Mac seemed to be the only person on the planet that was able to leave her speechless. He grinned and cupped her face with his hands, kissing her gently on the lips.

He kissed her and he tasted like chocolate and crushes and like the best December of her life.

If their experiences of that month had been so different, then maybe it really was time to let the whole thing go. Maybe that month hadn’t been some magical Christmas moment between them. Maybe he had been the only one who had fallen in love.

‘No, really. Thank you. As much as it pains me to say it, you were probably right about the whole me-ending-up-in-a-ditch thing, so I really appreciate the ride.’ The snow swirled in between them, and Annie’s cheeks were red with the cold. Mac ran a hand down the side of her face. ‘You drive me nuts, but I don’t want you dead in a ditch.’

Annie’s cheeks flushed a deeper red and Mac felt vindicated. She did remember. And she felt it, too. The pull of that time, the need to find out if it was still there, that thing between them. If he kissed her right now, what would she do? Would it feel like the first time? Better? God, he wanted to find out. He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, his fingers putting pressure on the tension there. Annie’s eyes fluttered closed. He leaned forward and she didn’t stop him, didn’t knee him in the groin. He tightened his grip, just a little, just enough to have Annie melting toward him, her lips a hair’s-breadth from his. ‘Annie, is that you?’ Kira called from the barn. Annie’s eyes flew open, but she stayed frozen in place. He could still kiss her, but it would have to be rushed, and the next time he kissed Annie, he sure as hell wasn’t going to rush. Not after waiting over a decade. He dropped his hand from her neck. ‘Next time,’ he whispered.

It was time to move on. From Annie. From Dream Harbor. Mac needed to go.

She smelled like frosting and ginger and Mac barely contained his groan. He wanted her. Whatever she was willing to give. He wanted it.

When he came back to Dream Harbor, it was because he wanted to, not because he was born here, not because he was stuck here, or because it was his only option. He needed to experience life outside of Dream Harbor before he could appreciate life in it.

Sometimes, he wondered that if he had done things differently, would there still be a chance for him and Annie? He didn’t regret leaving but he hated the way he’d left.

Maybe he should stay here in Dream Harbor. There were worse places to be stuck. He knew that he should be grateful. But at the moment he only felt confined. Trapped. And more lost than ever.

Mac’s hand slid to the nape of her neck, his fingers strong and firm. She wanted to tell him to squeeze tighter, to hold onto her this time. ‘Let me make it up to you,’ he whispered. She wanted to. She wanted him to make it up to her. All the years she hurt, all the years she missed him. She wanted him to make it up to her. ‘What’s it going to take, Annie? Do I need to get down on my knees for you?’ The question sent a shiver down her spine. Mac felt it and his eyes darkened. ‘Is that what you want, Annabelle? You want me on my knees?’

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Mac crawling into bed next to her. He pulled her close, tucking her against him. ‘I get to be the big spoon this time,’ he whispered, and Annie fell asleep with a smile.

‘Give it a year,’ she said as though she could tell what he was thinking, like she could feel his indecision, caught between his fear of staying and his fear of leaving. ‘A year?’ ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Give it a year. A year to travel around, a year to figure it out, to decide what type of Mac you want to be.’ ‘And then what?’ he asked, wanting more of Annie’s plan for him, already feeling better now that she was putting parameters on this crazy idea of his. ‘And then,’ she whispered, moving closer, letting her fingers run through his hair, ‘and then you come back to me.’

‘I will miss you while you're gone,’ she said, ‘but I’m excited for you.’ ‘Thanks,’ he said, kissing her again. He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her he was falling in love with her but that seemed unfair to say now. He would save it for when he got back.

‘Okay, biggest fear,’ he asked instead. ‘That I like this a little too much,’ she admitted, and hope flared in Mac’s chest. ‘What about you? Biggest fear?’ ‘That you’ll never forgive me.’

‘Why didn’t you come back? Why did you leave me sitting in the diner waiting for you like an idiot.’

‘I saw you sitting there, and I had been gone for an entire year, Annie, and I still knew nothing. I didn't know who I was or what I wanted to do. I was twenty years old, and I was still lost, and I saw you sitting there and what could I possibly have had to offer you?’

Annie sat up abruptly, taking half the blankets with her, leaving Mac in the cold. ‘You didn’t have to offer me anything. You only had to show up!’ Mac sat up to face her on the bed. ‘I was scared,’ he said, desperate for her to understand. He knew he didn’t have to offer Annie anything concrete, but he at least needed to offer her some version of himself that he was proud of. ‘I was scared that I wouldn’t be what you remembered or what you wanted me to be.’ Annie shook her head. ‘I sat there waiting for you all day. I felt like a complete fool, like some stupid lovesick girl who waits an entire year for a boy. I never wanted

‘You didn't see me because you were too busy.’ He stepped closer until Annie had to tip her face up to his. ‘Do you remember what you were busy doing that night, Annabelle?’ he asked, his voice a low rumble, every feeling he’d had when he’d seen her that night barreling back into him. Annie faced him head on like she always had. ‘Yes, I do. I spent that night forgetting you.’

‘You’re a strong girl. You’ll be all right.’ With that, she got up, leaving the check behind, charging Annie for only one order of pancakes instead of two.

But apparently Annie didn’t want that. She’d already forgotten about him. He made one mistake, and she’d moved on. Just like that.

‘Going to be back in town long?’ Logan asked. After all these months away, waiting to come back, Mac knew there was only one answer. ‘No, I’m leaving again tomorrow.’ Logan’s eyebrow rose. ‘There isn't anything here for me,’ Mac said, and Logan answered with a frown like he might disagree, but Mac didn’t want to hear it. He strode out of the party vowing to himself to not waste another minute thinking about Annabelle Andrews. It was time he did this traveling thing for real, and this time he'd have no one waiting for him back home. This time he’d have no trouble staying away.

‘I couldn’t forget you.’ Mac dropped to the floor in front of her wedging his body between her thighs. She put a hand gently on the cheek she had smacked. ‘I tried,’ she said. ‘I wanted to, but I couldn’t do it.’ She shook her head, biting back tears. ‘And then you show up here and work your way into my life. What am I supposed to do?’ ‘I tried to forget you, too,’ he whispered, leaning toward her.

none of those places felt like home and no other woman I met felt like you. It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life, leaving the way I did. I needed time away from this place, Annie, but I never should have left without talking to you.’

And then there’s the tattoo I got.’ Annie raised an eyebrow. She’d never seen a tattoo on Mac before. ‘What tattoo?’ ‘It's on my rib cage,’ he said. ‘Okay, so what is it? Plenty of people get tattoos.’ ‘But do plenty of people get tattoos of the name of the person they had just unceremoniously ditched and were pretty sure hated them?’ ‘You didn't.’ Mac leaned away from her and lifted his shirt. In tiny script on his left ribs was her name. It was so small she hadn't seen it last night when he undressed but there it was plain as day. Annie in black ink under his heart.

‘Hello?’ she said, not recognizing the number. It was Estelle.

she looked lost and a little confused like she was reworking who he was again. But this wasn't anything new for Mac. This was who he was now. He was a man. A man with a business and a house and a love for the woman standing in front of him that was too strong for him to ignore anymore. He was done with the childish games he and Annie had been playing for years. But he figured she’d need a minute to catch up.

Annie was staring at him again like she was waiting for the real Mac to come back. Like she was waiting for the irresponsible kid he was to walk through the door. Or maybe she was waiting for the guy she’d painted in her head all these years as the asshole that left her. But he wasn't either of those guys and he had a new plan. He was determined to show Annie the man he was now, and she could decide for herself if she wanted to be with this Mac. Because he’d already made up his mind. He’d loved Annie then and he loved her now. She was it for him.

‘We don’t have time to deal with this right now,’ she said, hand on her hip. She was trying to get back to business, but Mac saw the fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to get hurt again.

‘But this isn’t over between us. I’m not letting it go this time. I'm not going to go from enemies to whatever this is.’

But on the way out he spotted something on Annie’s refrigerator. An old postcard, one he recognized from the Grand Canyon.

Sure, he’d apologized, but what the hell good did that do her now? She’d spent ten years hating the man; could she really change her feelings for him just like that?

‘Okay, I’ll give you one more day. And then you’re going to tell me where I stand with you, because I can’t play games anymore.’ ‘Too old?’ she teased, desperately trying to get back on some familiar ground. Mac huffed a laugh. ‘Too old to be chasing after a memory of you. I need the real thing. I need to know if we have any chance of working or if it’s finally time for me to let you go.’