Bachelor Protector. Julianna MorrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
you, sir.”
His mother’s cheeks were pink as he carried the bags of food into the kitchen and put them on the breakfast table.
“I must have left my purse at work,” she said. “I’ll get it after dinner.”
“Isn’t it safe to leave in the office?”
“Of course it’s safe. Someone is always at the shop, but I keep my blood pressure medicine in there. I’ll need that tonight. And I...well, I keep your father’s wallet in there. I like having it nearby.”
“I’ll go now. You and Nathan start eating without me.”
Tyler didn’t wait for her to agree. After losing his father to a stroke, he wasn’t taking any chances with his mother’s medication. The door was locked at Sarah’s Sweet Treats, but he knocked until an employee came out from the back.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” the woman called pleasantly.
“My mother works here. Rosemary Prentiss. She left her purse and needs it.”
“Just a minute, I’ll let Sarah know.”
She disappeared. A few minutes passed and Tyler wondered if he’d been forgotten, then Sarah came out and unlocked the door. She looked more rested than she had earlier, though still on edge.
“We keep running into each other,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter and then locking the door again.
“Sorry for the inconvenience. Mom forgot her purse in the office.”
“That’s what Katie said. I phoned Rosemary, and she said it was okay to let you take it.”
“Sarah,” called a frantic voice. “I keep stirring this, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Sarah raced to the back of the shop. Tyler followed her through a bright kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances to one that was smaller but no less tidy. She was already at one of the stoves, stirring the contents of a large pot.
Chocolate, he realized. Obviously he’d come at an inconvenient time, though he wondered if there was ever a convenient time with Sarah.
She checked a large thermometer and gave the mixture an extra stir before pouring it into a rectangular pan.
“It’s fudge,” Sarah explained, casting him a glance.
“Do you make all the candy you sell?”
“It’s all made here, yes. But I have an employee who does most of it. She’s taking a personal day, so I’m filling in. Usually I focus on developing new recipes. Tonight I may experiment with lemon meringue fudge.”
Tyler frowned. “Fudge is supposed to be chocolate.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not the way I make it. Do you like cappuccino?”
“I suppose.”
“Then come with me.”
Sarah returned to the front of the bakery and turned on the lights in a display case. She cut a piece from a cream-colored slab and gave it to him on a napkin. “This is my cappuccino fudge.”
He took a bite and the rich essence of coffee and cinnamon rolled across his tongue. Though he wasn’t big on candy, he was disappointed when the last of it was gone. “That’s pretty good,” he admitted. “I concede that fudge doesn’t have to be chocolate.”
She served him another couple of samples, including one named Hogwarts Special.
“Hogwarts Special?” Tyler echoed.
“For the Harry Potter fans. The books talk about pumpkin juice, but this is mostly pumpkin spice. I haven’t managed to get more than a mild pumpkin flavor in the fudge. Blackberry is easier because the berries are so tangy.”
Sarah was clearly enthused about her creations, enough to indulge even him with samples when he must have been a thorn in her side for their entire acquaintance. Yet a thought kept tapping in the back of Tyler’s brain...was she being nice because she thought he’d made the anonymous complaint?
She couldn’t be worried about passing an inspection. From what he’d seen, both of her kitchens were modern, spotless and pleasant places to work.
“I don’t cook and I’ve never met anyone who invented recipes,” he said, genuinely curious about the process. As a kid, his mom had hired a chef or a caterer, and he’d relied mostly on restaurants as an adult.
“Chefs and bakers invent recipes all the time. I’ll get Rosemary’s purse.”
Sarah left and returned a minute later. She put the purse inside one of the Sweet Treat’s shopping bags before handing it to him, probably assuming he wouldn’t want to walk back through Poppy Gold carrying a woman’s handbag. It was true. While he didn’t think he was irredeemably chauvinistic, he also wasn’t exactly enlightened, either.
BACK AT THE SUITE, Tyler found his mother had kept the food warm so they could eat together. It was an awkward meal that might have gone better if family dinners had been a Prentiss tradition. But even on holidays, his parents had attended social events.
After they finished eating, he cleared his throat.
“Nathan, as you know, I talked to Dr. Chin at the rehab center today. He’s sending recommendations for you to follow while you’re here in California. Since Mom has a job, I’ll be taking you to your appointments. Unless you decide to return to rehab, that is.”
His brother glared. “That isn’t happening. And I don’t need his recommendations. I’m doing fine. As for appointments, if I never see another doctor, I’ll be happy.”
Rosemary straightened. “That isn’t what we agreed to when you wanted to leave the rehab center. I’ve let it go longer than I intended, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
It was nice to see she hadn’t completely lost touch with reality. Tyler had envisioned her believing that love and sunshine would be enough to resolve Nathan’s PTSD and restore him physically. While it might be possible, he’d do a whole lot better with treatment.
Tyler leaned forward. “I don’t suppose a tiny town like Glimmer Creek has many medical services. We’ll probably have to drive to the nearest city for doctors and therapy.”
His brother looked ready to argue, so Tyler fixed him with a hard stare. “In the hospital, you told me you wanted to go back on active duty. That isn’t likely to happen without therapy. Or have you decided to leave the service?”
Resentment flickered in Nathan’s eyes. “I don’t want a medical discharge. The army is going to do a medical review in a few months to determine my fitness.”
Tyler ached, suspecting Nathan questioned whether he could pass the review. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he no longer wanted to return to active duty—after his personal tour of hell, nobody would blame him for deciding he’d had enough.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, do we?” their mother asked in a shaky voice, and Tyler looked at her sharply. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale.
“No,” he and his brother said in unison. Taking care of her was an old habit.
Nathan put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled.”
“Naw, but don’t worry, I’ll see a doctor. Right now I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”
She smiled shakily. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Nathan shook his head and limped out of the kitchen.
Tyler