Not the Marrying Kind Page 9

  Ashley looked down at the black-and-white tiled floor. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. Just make a suggestion. It doesn’t have to be spectacular. Just something to get the brainstorming going.”

  Ash allowed a tiny smile to curve her lips. “You know, my brain always thinks best if I feed it some sugar.”

  Sasha laughed. “Is that your not-so-subtle way of asking for one of the cinnamon rolls I promised?” She opened a big container and held it out to Ash, who took one of the fragrant sticky buns.

  It was still warm, and the first bite nearly melted on her tongue. “Oh, yum.”

  Sasha got started on the cream-cheese-and-banana frosting for the cupcakes while Ash devoured her treat. “So?” Sasha finally asked. “Did that put your brain into working order?”

  Ash swallowed another bite of cinnamon roll. “Let’s see… Doggie cupcakes… How about Pupcakes?”

  “Yes!” Sasha pumped her fist. “That’s genius. I knew you’d be good at this.”

  It was stupid, really, but Sasha’s praise warmed her more than the bakery oven. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Nah. It’s your cinnamon roll doing its job.”

  “We also need a name for the carrot muffins we’re making next. How about…hmm… Oh, I have it! Woofins!”

  “Ooh, I love it. Now who’s the creative one?” Ash nudged her with her elbow. “And you haven’t even had a cinnamon roll.”

  Sasha grinned broadly. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

  “But modesty is not one of them.”

  “Nope. Can’t say that it is.”

  “If you need a name for the entire doggie treat line, how about…” Ash licked sugar and cinnamon off her fingers. “…Sasha’s Barkery Treats?”

  “Huh?” Sasha gave her a dazed look, as if something had distracted her.

  “Barkery… Like bakery, only…”

  “Oh, I get it. That’s great too.” Sasha gestured with her hands as if unrolling a banner from which she read. “Sasha’s Barkery Treats… Good enough to howl.”

  They burst out laughing.

  “We make a great team.” Sasha held her hand out for a high five.

  Ash reached up, once again very aware of how much taller Sasha was, and tapped her palm with her own. Without her meaning to, her fingers lingered against Sasha’s warm hand.

  Sasha didn’t pull away either.

  The oven timer went off, startling them apart.

  Ash withdrew to the other side of the worktable. It was much safer there. “Sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” Sasha asked, her tone light.

  So she hadn’t noticed that moment of…well, Ash wasn’t even sure what to call it. Insanity, a voice in her head supplied. You wanted to stay far, far away from women, remember? Especially women who aren’t straight. She cleared her throat. “Um, just my fingers being sticky. From the bun and all.”

  Sasha shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a baker. I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.” She pulled the cupcake pan from the oven and set it on a cooling rack.

  Ash forced herself to focus on the cupcakes, not on the way Sasha’s jeans tightened over her butt as she bent over the oven. “Wow, they smell good. If Casper doesn’t want them, I might eat them instead.”

  “You could,” Sasha answered. “They aren’t as sweet as my regular cupcakes, but the Pupcakes are safe to eat for dogs and humans alike. Let’s start on the muffins…pardon me, the Woofins while we wait for the Pupcakes to cool enough so we can ice them.”

  Ash quickly washed her hands and then moved back in place to play baker’s assistant again, handing Sasha the ingredients as she asked for them. She nearly dropped an egg when her phone chimed, announcing an incoming text message. After giving Sasha the eggs, she pulled it from her back pocket. Several more messages arrived before she could even glance at the small screen.

  They were all from the same sender: her mother. Each of them contained a photo: a sleeping baby, the same baby with its foot stuck in its mouth, the baby crawling across a carpet toward a huge pile of toys.

  Ash tapped the screen to type out a teasing reply about her mother adopting a sister or brother for her but then paused and deleted the two words she had already written. She didn’t want to remind her mother of Melissa and make her sad by mentioning the word sister.

  Another picture arrived, making her phone vibrate in her hand.

  This one finally gave her a clue as to whose baby it was. Vicky, who she had gone to school with, was holding the baby in this photo. Instead of wearing a baby-spit-covered sweatshirt as Ash had expected, Vicky wore a silk blouse and pearls, and she held the baby as if it were a fashion accessory she wanted to show off on Instagram.

  The phone chimed again.

  Isn’t she cute? I ran into Vicky at the hair salon yesterday, and she invited me over for coffee. What a darling little girl, don’t you think?

  Sasha looked up from where she was sifting flour into the shredded carrots and the applesauce. “You got a hot date later on?”

  Ash snorted. She hadn’t had a date in years, and it had been even longer since she’d had one she could call hot. “No.” She held out the phone and showed Sasha one of the photos.

  “Um, isn’t she a little young for you?” Sasha sent her a teasing smile.

  “Oh, you!” Ash reached across the worktable to playfully slap Sasha’s shoulder.

  Laughing, Sasha danced out of the way. For a woman with such a solid build, she sure was light on her feet.

  Yeah, and for a woman who vowed to stay away from women, you sure are very touchy-feely with her. That wasn’t like her at all. As a child, Ash had loved physical closeness. Her mother had always called her my little cuddle bug. But as she got older and realized why she loved to hug some of her female friends in particular, Ash had become more careful about who she touched. Even though she still loved hugs, she avoided initiating them more often than the other person, if at all.

  “You okay?” Sasha looked at her with an expression that almost resembled concern.

  “Oh yes,” Ash said quickly. “I’m just not too crazy about getting messages like these.”

  “Don’t you like kids?”

  “No, that’s not it at all. I like them just fine. What I don’t like is my mother sending me these subtle reminders that I’m not getting any younger and my biological clock is ticking.”

  Sasha huffed out a breath. “Jeez. So that’s why she’s sending you a whole photo album of the kid.”

  “Yes. Give it a second, and she’ll start in on my love life…or lack thereof.”

  As if on cue, the phone chimed again.

  Ash read it out loud: “Did I tell you that Sheryl’s oldest son is back in town? He’s taking over as the branch manager of our bank, and I heard he’s divorced.”

  “Wow.” Sasha filled the last of the paper liners with the Woofin batter and slid the pan into the oven. She turned and gave Ashley her full attention. “What are you going to say to that?”

  “The same thing I’m always telling her. That I’m too busy to date and that he’s nice but not my type.” She typed it in and sent off the message.

  The answer came fast.

  Oh, honey. I don’t understand you. Handsome and gainfully employed men are not your type?

  Ash sighed and rubbed her face with her free hand.

  “I take it she doesn’t know men aren’t your type, period?” Sasha’s tone was gentle, with no hint of judgment.

  “God, no! I could never tell her that.”

  “But wouldn’t it be easier in the long run?” Sasha asked. “Otherwise, she’ll keep shoving every unmarried, divorced, or widowed man within a two-hundred-mile radius at you.”

  Ash tightened her grip on the phone until her fingers started to cramp. “Easier? No. There�
��d be nothing easy about it, trust me.” No matter how hard she tried, she could never imagine a conversation in which she would come out to her parents.

  “Okay, maybe easy wasn’t the right word to use, but at least you could live your life without having to hide and to lie all the time.”

  “I’m not.” Ash struggled not to raise her voice as she felt herself getting defensive. “I’m not dating anyone, so there’s nothing to lie about. I learned that lesson with Holly.” That last bit slipped out before she could censor herself.

  Sasha studied her, and those chocolate brown eyes seemed to look far too deep for Ash’s comfort.

  “What about you? Are you out to your family?” Ash asked, just to turn the topic of conversation away from herself. “I mean, your aunt obviously knows. But what about your parents?”

  “Oh yeah, they know. The rest of my family too.”

  How calmly she had said that! As if it were the most normal thing in the world, with no pain and heartbreak involved. “And they are fine with it? They accepted it…just like that?”

  “More or less. I have a couple of cousins and an uncle who stopped talking to me for a while, but most family members were fine with it. Half of my mother’s friends are gay men. My father wasn’t overjoyed but finally came to accept it. I think Aunt Mae might have kicked his ass. She’s—and I quote—more supportive than an underwire bra.”

  That made Ash smile, despite the tension settling around her ribs like an iron band. “God, you don’t know how lucky you are.”

  “Trust me, I do know,” Sasha said quietly. “I learned not to take unconditional love for granted early in my life.”

  Ash bent her head. She hadn’t meant to be so egoistical to imply that she was the only one struggling, while Sasha had always had it easy in life. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “It’s okay. But don’t you think there’s a chance your parents might be like my dad, maybe struggle a bit at first but then come around? Who knows? They might surprise you.”

  “No.” Ash held up her phone, which at that moment chimed again. “They’re already not too happy about me being unmarried and childless. If I told them why…” She squeezed her eyes shut because she didn’t even want to imagine it. “They’d be devastated.”

  “So what will you do?” Sasha asked. “Date some poor, unsuspecting man to please your parents?”

  “No. I’m done with that. I did it in the past, just to keep up appearances and maybe because I was hoping there’d be a spark with one of them if I tried hard enough.”

  “But there wasn’t.” Sasha made it a statement, not a question.

  Ash sighed. “None whatsoever.”

  “But if there is with women, do you really not want to—?”

  “No,” Ash said firmly. “I’m okay being alone and letting my parents think it’s because I’m too picky or because the shop keeps me too busy. If I’m lucky, my mother will forget about Vicky and her baby in a couple of days and stop bugging me for a while. At least until she runs into the next person who’s just had a new baby or recently got engaged. Any time I tell her I’m working a wedding, she starts asking me when it’ll finally be my turn. Always the florist—”

  “Never the bride,” Sasha finished for her. “I’ve heard that a time or two from my aunt too. Just that she wouldn’t care whether it’s two brides on my wedding cake as long as she gets to make it.”

  Ash couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have an aunt like that. None of her aunts and uncles would react like Mae if they ever found out she was gay. “Would you ever do that?” She knew it would have probably been better to keep things between them completely professional, but Sasha seemed like such an interesting person, and she couldn’t help being curious.

  “Let her make my wedding cake?” Sasha asked.

  “No. Get married to a woman.”

  “Nope. I don’t think so.” Sasha held up her hand before Ash could say anything. “Not because of the same-sex thing. I can’t see myself marrying a man—or a nonbinary person—either. Guess I’m just not the marrying kind.”

  “That’s what my mother always tells her friends—that I’m just not the marrying kind because I’m too focused on my shop.”

  Sasha chuckled. “She probably has no idea that ‘not the marrying kind’ used to be a euphemism for being gay.”

  “God, no. She has no clue.”

  “So what did she say when she found out Holly and Leo are getting married?” Sasha asked. “Did that start the entire ‘when is it finally your turn’ thing again, or was she too outraged about it being two women?”

  “I don’t think she’s heard yet.”

  Sasha arched her expressive eyebrows. “Really? The whole town is talking about it.”

  “I’m pretty sure my mother would have called me right away if she knew. My parents are starting to become really busy on the farm, ordering seed and fertilizer and getting things ready for tilling and planting, so they’re not coming into town that much. And I guess at the hair salon Vicky’s baby and Sheryl’s divorced son were the big news.”

  The phone chimed again. Now three messages from her mother were waiting for her reply.

  Ash quickly sent her a message, telling her they would talk when she came over for lunch.

  “Or maybe your mother does know, and that’s why she keeps sending you all these photos that are supposed to make your ovaries ache, none-too-subtly nudging you toward a heterosexual lifestyle.” Sasha formed air quotes with her fingers.

  Ash clutched the edge of the worktable with both hands. “Oh God. I hope that’s not it. Did I mention that I’m going over to my folks for lunch right after this?”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to worry you.” Sasha’s hand hovered over Ash’s fingers clamped around the worktable, but then she withdrew it without touching her. “You’re probably right. Your parents are too busy on the farm to keep up with all the town gossip.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure of it.”

  But when the doggie treats were done an hour later and Ash helped fill a bakery box with Pupcakes and Woofins for Casper, she couldn’t push the thought out of her mind. She was in for one nerve-racking lunch.

  Sasha got a second bakery box and piled cinnamon rolls into it. “Here.” She folded down the lid and held out the box. “Take these to your folks.”

  Ash reached out to accept it but then pulled her hands back. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why? Your parents aren’t diabetic or on any health-related restrictions, are they?”

  “No. It’s just… They know the bakery is closed on Sundays, so if I show up with freshly baked cinnamon rolls…” Ash trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

  Sasha stood with the box still extended toward her for another moment. Then she abruptly pulled it back and turned away to set it on the counter behind her. “They would know you spent time with me. You’re right. We wouldn’t want that.”

  Ash stared at Sasha’s broad back that was taut with tension. She took one step toward her, and her hand rose as if on its own volition, about to touch that tense back. Are you crazy? Keep your distance from her, dammit!

  But she couldn’t ignore the hurt in Sasha’s voice and her stance. It surprised her how much she wanted to soothe that away. “I’m sorry. I’m probably just being paranoid.” She took a deep breath. “So what if they know I spent the morning at the bakery? I just helped you make treats for Casper. That doesn’t mean anything, right?”

  The tense set of Sasha’s shoulders relaxed. She turned around and regarded Ash with a serious expression. “You don’t have to take them. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  “It’s fine.” Ash stepped around the worktable and took the box. “There won’t be any trouble.” She could only hope that was true.

  “All right. Then I hope your folks enjoy them.” Sasha walked he
r to the door. Again, her hand came to rest on the small of Ashley’s back.

  Did she do that with all of her female friends and acquaintances?

  What? You think you’re special to her? Please! If she had been Brooke, she would have rolled her eyes at herself. But she had to admit that she liked that bit of human contact.

  At the door, they both paused and turned to face each other.

  “Thanks for the barkery treats and the cinnamon rolls,” Ash said. “That was really nice of you.” Okay, that sounded lame. But what else was she supposed to say?

  “My pleasure.” Sasha tried to shove her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, then seemed to realize that she was still wearing an apron and hooked them into her back pockets instead. “So…it’s been fun. We should do this again sometime.”

  Was it just her being paranoid again, or did that sound a little too much like something you might say at the end of a date? Ash decided that it was all in her head. After all, Sasha had just told her that she wasn’t the marrying kind either, and she didn’t seem eager to start a relationship with anyone.

  “Definitely,” Ash said. To her own surprise, it wasn’t just a polite response that she didn’t really mean. Baking—or at least helping Sasha while she baked—had been unexpectedly fun. She glanced at her watch. “Oh shit. I need to go, or I’ll be late. I need to pick up Casper before I head out to my parents’.”

  “Okay. Drive carefully.” For a moment, Sasha looked as if she was debating hugging her goodbye.

  Ash’s pulse started racing. She found herself leaning forward, toward Sasha, even as she firmly told herself to pull back quickly if Sasha really hugged her.

  But then Sasha just opened the door and held it for her.

  Ash pressed the two boxes to her chest and walked past Sasha. “See you tomorrow at three.”

  “See ya.”

  Ash marched to her SUV and put the boxes on the passenger seat. She wasn’t disappointed that she hadn’t gotten a hug. Absolutely not. She was actually relieved about it. Right?

  Absolutely. Yep, very, very relieved.

  She would be even more relieved once lunch with her parents was over and her mother had mentioned neither Sheryl’s eligible son nor Holly and Leo’s wedding.