Temptation Trails - Page 163

We raced toward the bakery and I was filled with single-minded determination.

Save them. They were all that mattered.

CHAPTER 43

Harper

The bakery didn’t appear to be on fire, so at least I had that going for me.

There also weren’t any fire engines or other emergency vehicles, so maybe that meant I hadn’t left cookies in the oven to burn.

I parked in the back and Owen and I got out. Garrett still hadn’t called, which was bothering me more than I wanted to admit to Owen. That sense of unease that had been growing in the pit of my stomach had only intensified on the drive into town. I was worried about the bakery, but more than that, I was worried about Garrett.

Something was telling me he wasn’t okay.

We went to the back door and I unlocked it. Maybe I’d find my phone and there would be a message from Garrett, telling me where he was. It would explain why he hadn’t answered Owen, and we’d know when to expect him back at his parents’ house.

Smoke didn’t billow out of the kitchen when I opened the door. That was a good sign.

“Maybe I didn’t leave the oven on after all.” I stepped inside and Owen followed. Then I locked the door behind us, just in case.

Without the SPS patrolling, I felt vulnerable.

I didn’t miss the furrow in his brow as I flipped on the lights.

He was worried too.

I wouldn’t lie to him and say everything was going to be okay. I hoped that was true, but I didn’t know what was going on with his dad any more than he did. It seemed disingenuous to offer empty platitudes, even in an attempt to make him feel better.

He was a kid, but too grown up for that.

Instead, I patted him on the arm, then went to check the oven.

Off.

I let out a breath. “Sorry. It’s not on. We didn’t need to rush down here.”

He shrugged. “That’s okay.”

I could have sworn I put cookies in, though. Had I imagined that? I opened the oven and sure enough, there they were. My blackberry almond thumbprints, sitting in a cold oven, not baking.

“Sugar cookies, what did I do?”

I pulled the baking sheet out and set it on the island. Apparently I hadn’t turned the oven on at all.

Or maybe I’d tried to turn it on and my bad luck had intervened. It was probably broken.

“Are those just dough?” Owen asked.

I put my hands on my hips and shook my head sadly. “Yeah. I don’t know what’s up with me today, but apparently I stuck those in a cold oven and then forgot all about them. That’s better than leaving an oven on, but still. What’s up with my brain?”

“Pregnancy brain.”

“You’re probably right. But how do you know about that?”

“My math teacher last year was pregnant. She complained about it all the time.”

I put a hand on my belly. Not that there was any outward sign of the baby, but the tiny one was still making him-or-herself known. “I actually like the idea of it being pregnancy brain, and not another manifestation of my bad luck curse.”