Heated Sweets (A Taste of Love Book 3) Read online

  “Don’t judge,” she responds with a mouthful of food. Shaking my head, a smile forms, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh from how crazy my friends are. “Nice of you to join us,” Natasha slurs in my direction, and I can’t tell if she’s being funny or has something to say to me. Brushing it off, I apologize for being late and wave over at Jaime for my tea. She’s been here long enough now to know exactly what I order and how I take my tea. I gave up coffee months ago when I realized that chamomile tea reduced my abdominal pain which leads to me having about four cups a day. Two in the morning, and two after dinner. I still drink it on occasion when the need for caffeine arises.

  I tuck my shoulder-length black hair behind my ears and start picking at my nails. I’m nervous, which I have no idea why I am… This is us… This is our group and my family; they aren’t going to judge me for trying to find my way to happiness. It just means that once I say the words out loud—it’s official, and if I give up, I have people to call me out on my flaws and failures. Small talk is what we need first… Then I can tackle the big stuff.

  “How are you guys,” I ask, and it seems like I might have asked the wrong question from the looks of all three of them.

  Zara pipes up first, “Fat, can’t breathe, can’t see my toes, so I’m hunky dory.”

  “You aren’t fat,” I sound off back at her, and notice Morgan reaching over to pinch Zara’s arm.

  “Owe!” Zara yelps.

  “That’s what you get. I told you every time you use that word, I’ll pinch you.”

  “How many pinches have you had to do today?” Natasha asks.

  “Five, and still counting. If you guys hear her say it, pinch the hell out of her,” Morgan states before grabbing a piece of muffin from her plate.

  “What about you,” I direct toward Natasha.

  “Oh, you know, adjusting between work and the house. You going to cut through all this and just tell us why you called this meeting today?”

  “Can you lay off the attitude?” I snap back at Natasha. I feel like she’s ready to attack me at any moment, and I still don’t know why she’s acting this way. We were fine the other day—today it’s like I ran over her cat.

  “I will as soon as you spill it. We’re dying to hear what you had to tell us in person. I mean, come on, Frankie—last time you moved, and we just don’t know what to expect. Excuse me for being a little on edge with this meeting.”

  “First, I’m not moving. Do you really think I’d buy a house and then move? Give me a little more credit than that, please.”

  “Well, what is it? You can’t keep an emotional pregnant person on edge like this, it’s not good for the baby.”

  “How long you going to use that excuse?” Morgan asks, causing us all to laugh. It’s true, and in a few months she’s not going to be able to use it anymore.

  “Can I eat first, then talk after?” I ask, knowing what the answer will be, but you can’t blame me for trying.

  “No,” they all say in unison, and I sink down in the booth a little further. It’s now or never.

  I take a sip of my tea and place the cup back down on the table, but I don’t let go of it. The warmth from the ceramic feels good on the palms of my hands. Not to mention it keeps me from picking at my fingers under the table to hide my anxiety.

  “You all know I started seeing a new doctor last week, and I wanted to share a few things that we talked about. He made me understand how I need to let you three in more, and since you’re my biggest support group, I need to explain things more.” I stop and take a moment to look at them, to gauge their faces before I continue. The silence is thick, it’s as if the busy bakery around us is empty. Which it’s not, it just feels that way. My subconscious is on high alert, making me feel as if ALL eyes and ears in the room are on me.

  “Spill it before I freak out and have this baby.” Zara pulls me from my thoughts and back to the reason I’m here today.

  “Sorry, okay where was I? Oh yes, the new doctor. I’ll start with the easy one-first—a support group. I guess the research center here has an amazing support group, and he highly suggested that I join. He feels that if I’m around others who also suffer, they might be able to give some feedback and advice on how to deal with the challenges. I agreed and plan to go to my first one tomorrow evening.” I pause because I know they will have questions. I mean, we’ve been doing these meetings for a while, and not just for me.

  “So what is it? Do you have doctors speak? Who controls this? Are you joining a cult?” Zara asks, causing us all to laugh.

  “No, it’s not a cult and yes, they have doctors, nurses, and other founders from the center help with the meetings.”

  “So like AA,” Zara says as she shrugs it off.

  “No, but okay, we can go with that I guess.”

  “Carry on.” Natasha motions her hand in my direction for me to get to the other stuff. I can tell she’s starting to get impatient, and the clock is ticking for her to get back to work soon.

  “Second, he highly advised me to get some therapy. He wants me to talk to a professional about my fears, anxiety, and maybe seek treatment for the slight depression I battle from. This I told him I would think about. I still haven’t made the first appointment, but I will soon. Third, he, of course, wants to do another surgery. This one would be different and more intense than the others. I was schooled on a few things at the appointment. Seems that my old doctor was also old school and didn’t really dig in there. Long story short, he wants to dig around, cut out, and laser off as much as he can. He also pointed out that I should have the left ovary removed as it’s doing more harm than good to my body. It’s dead, and with all the adhesions and scar tissue, I need to let go of it.”

  “Can we sing Let it Go afterward? I can dress up and everything,” Zara spits out. She does this when things start becoming intense. It’s her way to break it up some and make me smile, which she did a fine job at. I can picture her dressed as Elsa from Frozen singing to the waiting room. Yes, if she does this I’ll admit, I might never show my face back in that place.

  “No, we will not let it go anywhere, but thank you for the offer. This means I have to make a decision, but not until my next appointment in four weeks. I have some things to think about, and he wants me to go to those support groups first before I make my mind up. I know what my answer will be, but I also need to know it in my heart. So… That’s my big news.”

  “You say it like you just had a candy bar or something and are confessing it up to me. Frankie, this is big… Well, not as big as when you just up and moved and moved back… But still this is a lot to process,” Zara explains, and before I know it Morgan steps in.

  “I agree, and I’m a little worried. We knew that you were having issues, but we didn’t know you were depressed. This is news to me, at least. I think you need to schedule the appointment and go talk to someone, or you can come hang out with me.” This causes me to laugh hysterically. It’s not funny, but the look on Morgan’s face, and not to mention Natasha’s, is priceless right now. Stopping to think back on how I explained it, I now understand why they look so serious.

  “Okay, stop right now, each of you. I have mild depression, but not like that. It’s more the anxiety and ways I can deal with life as being single and non-bearing. Also it’s so the doctors can monitor my mental stability for future choices that I might need to make. No need to call the guards in to keep watch, it’s not like that.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, would you tell us? Zara, you have a key, right?” Morgan questions.

  “Yes, and she’s fine.”

  I take a chance to look over at Natasha as she’s the one who hasn’t said a word. I don’t know if I should go ahead and get up now and run for my life, or wait it out as she processes.

  She must feel all eyes on her; Natasha places her napkin down on the table top and folds her hands in together before us. Each of us clasps our hands on top of hers like we’re about to tackle the world together. I gues
s when you stop to think about it, we all are defeating the world in some way. My lips crease as I’m afraid to let my voice be heard. “Frankie, I need to say this, and I need you to listen to me,” she says, and I nod gently, agreeing that I’ll listen. “What you have chosen to do is brave, and I’m proud of you. I’m not sure what to say about the surgery as that is your choice, not ours. But the therapy and support group I think is a wise decision. I know we all listen to you and would move mountains. As much as we love you, there’s times we can’t help; all we know how to do is hug and love you. I think you’re doing the right thing, but also make sure you know we’re here for you.” I slide my right hand out from the pile to swipe away the tears that have started to fall. I swore to myself that I’d be strong and not let my emotions out in front of them. The last thing I need is for them to worry more than they already do. Morgan catches me off guard as she heavily clears her throat. When my eyes glance up and meet hers, she flicks them toward the counter. Of course, my eyes divert in that direction to land on the one person I wasn’t ready to see today… Brody.

  Chapter 3

  “Is she with him?” I ask as I try to dab my face. They don’t have to tell me he’s headed right for us—I can feel Brody approaching. My heart rate speeds up, and I’m scared to turn and face him; especially if Mary Beth is standing beside him. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I turn in my seat and greet him.

  “Hey Bro man, what’s up?” Zara asks, giving me another moment to put myself back together.

  “Hello ladies… Nothing, just needed a snack and wanted to check to see if Morgan has everything for the cake I ordered.” My shoulders relax, and I turn to glance up at Brody. This might have been a huge mistake, because I can tell the moment he realizes I was crying. His shoulders square, his jaw goes rigid, and not to mention the tick I notice right below his Adam apple. See, that’s the problem when you’ve known someone as long as we have; you know when they are sad, happy, and just everything about them. I offer a gentle smile and try to excuse myself from the table. Brody steps to the side allowing me to stand, but before I can walk away, he grabs my elbow and steps toward me.

  “You okay?” he asks in a low whisper only for me to hear.

  “Yep I’m good, just need the little girls room,” I respond before shuffling away.

  Once the door closes, I lean my body against it. Maybe if I stay in here long enough he’ll be gone when I exit. Honestly, I know that’s not true; Brody will wait for me to return. He knows I was crying, and he also knows that the girls won’t rat me out. I push off the door and walk over to the sink. A glance in the mirror only confirms what I already knew. My eyes are red, swollen, and puffy—yep he knows. “You can do this… Stay strong and hide your emotions,” I say to my reflection and wait for a few more minutes before I exit. A yelp escapes my throat when I’m startled from Brody leaning against the opposite wall from the restroom.

  “Want to talk?” Brody asks.

  “Not really. I need to get back to the girls, and I’m sure you have things to do,” I say as I try to walk past him. He reaches out for me stopping me before I can run away. Seems like that’s all I ever do when it comes to him—I run… I run to protect myself, him, my friends, and my family. Yes, I now understand that I do need some type of therapy. I need to learn to stop running from my feelings and how to kick their asses as I take names.

  “Natasha left, Morgan’s in the kitchen, and Zara; well, she’s doing what she does these days—eating. You used to confide in me, Frankie. What happened?”

  “I left and broke your heart. I returned, and you broke mine. It’s that simple, Brody, and if we went down that kind of relationship again, it wouldn’t be good for either of us, nor Mary Beth. I’m not your problem anymore, and you really have to let me go.”

  “You think it’s that simple? I can just tell my heart to not care about you? Frankie, we’ve known each other now for what, eight years? Eight dang years you’ve been in my life, and I’ve been in yours—now, tell me what the hell has you upset.”

  I stare at him for a moment taking in how his muscular chest hasn’t changed, how his scent is the same as I remember—a mixture of citrus and clover. How his lips are the perfect natural shade of pink. How his hazel eyes pop with glints of blue when he’s angry. How he used to be my Brody, but now belongs to someone else.

  “It’s nothing, okay… We were just having a girl power moment, and I was touched. You know how my emotions get, so don’t worry,” I say softly and jerk my hand out of his hand so I can make my way back out front to safety. Zara’s head pops up as soon as she hears me exiting the hallway, and I nod that I’m fine. I slide across from her as I know she’s not ready for me to leave yet. Brody’s fast on my heels. He stops at our table glancing at me for another moment before he bids Zara a goodbye and heads over to the counter where Morgan’s waiting for him. I’m not sure if he can feel my glare at his back, but he never turns back around to look at me. I hate that I broke us. I hate that I might have lost the best thing in my life. I just have to find my way in this big world and learn from my past mistakes.

  “You two drive me nuts, and I mean more than my normal nuttiness,” Zara exclaims, bringing me back to focus on her.

  “What? Why? Oh, never mind, don’t answer that.”

  “No, I’m going to answer it… You two are the perfect match. You’re like me and Hatcher, perfect in the weirdest way. I swear I want to slap you for leaving him, and then slap you again for being gone so long and allowing that nasty Mary Beth to sink her claws into our Brody. I swear if you both don’t come to your senses soon, I might snap. I refuse to make nice with her,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, which in reality they just rest on the top of her belly. I can’t help but laugh out loud at her. “Not funny, Francesca.”

  “Oh she pulled out the full name… I’m so scared…” I say, teasing her just to riffle her up.

  “Look, dinner at my house tonight? We have to come up with a plan to make it through that dinner for the new people that you are dragging me to. Hatcher’s cooking,” Zara says as she slides out of the bench and stands. I have no idea how the heck she fit in the seat with her very round belly, but she did. Zara pivots on her heels and heads toward the kitchen. She doesn’t even stop to look back at us before the swinging doors flap against each other.

  I take a moment to watch Brody and Morgan as they laugh at something they’re talking about before I stand and slip out. Morgan will understand me not saying goodbye.

  As soon as my feet hit the pavement outside, I slide my sunglasses out of my purse and cover my eyes from the casting glares of the others. I should head to my car as I need to lock myself away to work on editing, but the park across the street is calling my name. With a push of the button on the light pole, I wait for the little orange lady to pop up across the street alerting me that it’s safe to walk. With no care in the world, I wander around the park deciding that I want to sink my feet in the grass. Sliding my shoes off, I take a step off the concrete and onto the luscious green grass of Centennial Olympic Park. I notice the oak tree sitting alone off to the right and head that way. No one else is around it, and it’s the perfect place to just sit and relax—to take in the world around me. Before I know it, I’m sliding my camera out and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. At first I thought I’d take some shots of the random people, but instead I’m clicking away straight above my head. The way the leaves have intertwined through each other, the mixture of large and small branches connecting from the bottom to the top.

  “This seat taken,” the deep, husky voice of the only person who makes my heart flutter like it’s doing.

  “Free country, free park, so I guess it’s not.”

  “Wow, New York turned you into a cranky smartass—did you know that?”

  “No, it just let lose my inner bitch, that’s all.”

  “I didn’t say that, you did for the record,” Brody explains as he sits down next to me. I watch
as he slides back against the tree and crosses his feet, making himself comfortable. I smirk as I ignore him and go back to doing what I was doing before he showed up. I can hear him sipping his coffee. Glancing back over, I notice the other cup in his hand, and I wonder if he’s headed to see Mary Beth or has taken up the habit of downing two cups at once. “It’s for you; I saw you enter the park as I was leaving, thought you might want some tea while you relax.”

  I let out a sigh before I speak, “Thanks.”

  “Welcome.”

  Brody and I sit under the tree for what feels like hours, but in reality, it’s only a few minutes before I break the vow of silence. “You off today?”

  “No, just needed to get out of the office for a few. Hatcher’s covering, and I’m clearing my head. You?”

  “Finished a job this morning and avoiding edits, you know how that goes,” I laugh as I finish the sentence because I remember there was a time when he’d come rescue me from staring at the computer all day and night.

  “That I do, but I also know the longer you put it off the more you’ll stress.”

  “True, but it’s so pretty today, and I don’t want to be cooped up all day.”

  “Same here.”

  I pull down deep to find the courage to ask the next question, but I know I need to do it as I’m trying to be the bigger person here. “How’s Mary Beth?”

  “Good, I guess. She’s been away on business and not really happy with me right now.”

  “Ah, that explains why you needed a break. What did you do?”

  “Yes, that does explain it, huh.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “It’s really what I haven’t done more than what I did. It’s no big deal, and she’ll get over it.”

  “Oh no you don’t, Brody, spill it.”

  “Are you going to tell me what had you crying back there at the bakery?”