It’s a blur of thank you’s and hugs as everyone filters out and heads home. Gage and his mom are the last to leave.
“Becca, thank you again. This was so beautiful. And my goodness, what delicious ice cream you make. Best I’ve ever had.” His mom holds my hands in hers. “You have such a beautiful shop too. I adore it.” She beams at me. Joy swells within me at hearing Gage’s mom say such lovely things to me.
“You know, dear, I’d love it if you could come to my birthday party in a couple of weeks,” she says excitedly.
“Really?” My voice squeaks, I’m so heartened that she’d want me there.
Gage walks over and smiles at me. “I’d love it too if you could come.”
I smile at him and his mom. “I’d love to come.”
His mom hugs me again. “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see you again, Becca.”
Gage helps her carry some bags to her car, then runs back into the shop and pulls me into his arms.
“I’ve gotta drive my mom to the airport super early in the morning, so I have to stay at her house tonight.”
I make a mock-pouty face. “I’ll miss you.”
“Believe me, I wish I were staying at your place.” He kisses me. “Maybe I can convince my mom to take an Uber.”
“No way you’re ditching your mom. You’re going to be a good son and take her to the airport. Then you can come over to my place.”
“And I can have breakfast?” His eyes dart between my legs. He licks his lips.
I give him a light slap on the shoulder and laugh. “Go take care of your mom.”
He gives me one last kiss before he takes off. I tell Tori to go.
“You sure? I’m happy to stay and help clean up.”
I shake my head. “You’ve done enough. Go home and relax.”
She beams, hugs me, and grabs her purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
For the next hour, I clean up, then start prepping online orders in the back. When I step back out in the front, it’s nighttime already. I was so busy, I didn’t even realize it had gotten dark.
I empty the garbage and walk toward the dumpster, which is half a block behind Sweet Cheeks. I chuck the bag in, then spin around and walk back toward the Sweet Cheeks entrance. When I’m almost to the door, I see movement in the corner of my eye. When I look up, there’s a man I don’t recognize walking toward me dressed in what looks like a white chef’s coat.
“Excuse me, miss? I’m so sorry to bother you.” He stops several feet away from me. Under the nearby streetlight, I can see his face. He’s in his early sixties, with a handsome face that’s furrowed in a worried frown. The longer I look at him, the more familiar he seems.
He hesitates. “Are you Becca Briarwood?”
I tense. “Who are you?” I say, ignoring his question.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know I shouldn’t be here, bothering you. But I’ve tried everything, and I can’t…” He pauses. “You know my son. Gage Grant.”
Oh my gosh. This is Gage’s dad.
“Yes, I do know him,” I say. “You’re his dad?”
He nods, a sad smile tugging at his lips for a split second before his expression goes back to pained. “I’m Andre.” He hesitates for a second. “Are you his girlfriend?”
I frown at him. “Wh-why are you asking me that?”
He closes his eyes again and shakes his head, like he’s silently scolding himself. It’s so weird seeing him like this. The few times I’ve seen him on TV, he always comes off as confident, charming, and unflappable.
But right now he looks disheveled in his stained chef’s jacket. There’s a thick sheet of gray scruff along his cheeks, and his blue eyes look tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping.
