first she had to quit worrying about his stupid leg. Convincing his doctor to take off the cast early...what an idiot. Landon was smarter than that.
He stood balanced on his crutches, taking in the loaded trays. “Ah. You brought the pastries,” he said, a self-deprecating smile curving his mouth. “Okay. My bad.” He glanced at the two women avidly watching them, and gave them a polite nod. “I’ll see you all later.”
Before he could swing around on his crutches, Kylie let out a huff and said, “For heaven’s sake, sit down.”
“Nope. Don’t want to be a bother.” He kept moving toward the elevator without so much as a backward glance. “Thanks for the apple.”
“Landon.”
The elevator door opened as soon as he pushed the button, as if it had been waiting for him, and he took the last few steps rather quickly.
Kylie couldn’t see his face as the door slid closed, which was just as well. She wasn’t at all pleased with the soft gooey feeling in her chest. Landon was a big boy, he could fend for himself. His family had a ranch in Wyoming. He should’ve gone there to recuperate.
“Good Lord, girl.”
She turned to Patty. “What?”
“What?” Both women laughed. Patty, who was in her early forties and happily married, said, “Very nice.”
“Why on earth would you chase him away?” Still chuckling, Marge shook her graying head. “I thought you had a date with Kevin last night.”
“Landon’s just an old friend.”
“Uh-huh,” they said in unison, staring at her, curiosity mirrored in both pairs of eyes.
Oh, this wasn’t going to work. Kylie took a final sip of the cooling coffee. “Thanks for this,” she told Patty.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
She slipped into the back room and poured out the rest of her mug and rinsed it. “I have to go get ready to open.”
“Yeah, but you still have—”
She didn’t let Patty finish. Kylie hurried through the small lobby and out the door. Which was the completely wrong move because now she’d just complicated the situation. Made it look much worse than it was. She hadn’t lied. They were only friends. Or used to be.
Dammit.
Landon sat in his truck outside the bakery waiting for the morning rush to ease. Not that anyone seemed to be in any hurry. Eleven minutes was the average time it took a customer to place their order, pay for it and bend Kylie’s ear. He’d kept track out of sheer boredom.
When an elderly woman stopped to peer in through the window, he decided that was it. He could be waiting forever. The small Wyoming town where he’d grown up hadn’t been any different. Some of the older folks were likely to pass the morning talking about nothing. And Kylie, softhearted as she was, would worry they were lonely and let them monopolize her time.
He got out of the truck, dragging the crutches out with him. It wasn’t as if Kylie didn’t know about his injury. And damn, he couldn’t afford to be careless.
After some clumsy maneuvering, he opened the door and managed to cross the threshold without falling on his ass. When he glanced up he met Kylie’s gaze. She was standing behind the counter wearing a pink apron over her T-shirt and jeans and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
Wariness flickered in her hazel eyes before she refocused on the customer asking about a birthday cake for her grandson. Three other women were chatting as they waited their turn.
The space was smaller than he’d thought, with wood laminate floors, pale yellow walls and white clouds painted on the light blue ceiling. But no place to sit. So he settled in the corner where he wouldn’t be in the way, and leaned on his crutches as he waited.
The smell of fresh-brewed coffee drifted over to him. He didn’t see a coffeepot, and couldn’t tell if the aroma was coming from the kitchen or from the counter behind Kylie.
“Yoo-hoo, young man?”
Landon turned to the tiny, white-haired woman trying to get his attention. She waved him over to where she stood near the case. He sighed. Why had he thought the crutches would give him a pass?
He hobbled over to her. “Yes, ma’am, how can I help?” he asked with a polite smile.
“You can park yourself right here,” she said, gesturing to the spot in front of her. “Kylie can take your order next. No need for you to be waiting, you being a cripple and all.”
Cripple.
Landon tried not to cringe. “Well, that’s very kind of you,” he said, “but I’m just waiting for Kylie.”
“Oh, you’re a friend of hers?” she asked, curiosity etched in every line on her face.
The other women all turned and checked him out.
“I have a chair in the back,” Kylie said quickly. “Why don’t you wait there? I’ll even bring you a cup of coffee.”
“Can’t pass up that offer,” he said and nodded at the elderly woman, who looked disappointed. “You have a real nice day, ma’am.”
The place was utterly quiet as everyone watched him hobble around the counter, which made him feel awkward as hell.
“It’s just a folding chair,” Kylie said as he was about to enter the kitchen. “I’ll bring your coffee in a minute.”
“I can get it myself.” He spotted the coffee station directly behind her on the back counter. “Take care of your customers. I’m good.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about us,” said the tall woman ordering the birthday cake. “We have all the time in the world.”
The other three nodded.
Yeah, just what he wanted to hear.
“Well, I’m afraid I don’t,” Kylie said, turning to a pair of solid-looking upper oak cabinets and bringing down a three-ring binder. “Tell you what, Shirley, why don’t you have a look at these pictures of other cakes I’ve done while I box Eunice’s turnovers?”
Landon saw the mugs stacked in the open cabinet and leaned his crutches against the wall.
“What do you mean you don’t have time, dear? Will you be closing early?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Mabel. She has plans with the hunk.”
Slanting the eighty-something woman a quick look, Landon realized she meant him.
Kylie laughed. “Actually, I have Joe Hopkins coming at eleven-thirty.”
“What for?” Shirley had stepped aside as she flipped through the pages.
“To give me a quote on raising part of this front counter to accommodate some bar stools.”
“Bar stools?” Mabel repeated, frowning. “How do you expect us to climb up on those?”
Just as Landon squeezed in behind Kylie, he noticed that the rosy-cheeked Mabel and the woman standing beside her were twins. And that Kylie had stiffened up the way she used to when Gary said something stupid.
“Actually, the counter isn’t so much about a place to sit,” Kylie said. “I’ll be setting up a coffee station on the other end—”
“You mean you’re going to start serving all those expensive coffees I see on the TV commercials?” Mabel looked at her sister, who’d scrunched up her face as if she’d swallowed something sour.
“Just