Sweeter Than Tea Read online

  He looked up then, and their gazes locked.

  Caught again. Hannah swallowed hard, but didn’t look away. Instead she smiled. Good thing she wasn’t standing, because his smile literally made her knees weak.

  Gracie set his cupcake and the bottle of water in front of him. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  The man looked up at her. “Actually, I was wondering if the owner of the shop might be in.”

  Gracie looked over her shoulder at Hannah, unsure if she wanted to speak with anyone since this was her first break of the day. Hannah stood and walked over to join her cousin. “I’m the owner,” she said, holding out her hand. “Hannah Goode.”

  The soldier stood and took her hand, smiling. “Lieutenant Sam Evans. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. If you don’t mind me saying, I wasn’t expecting someone so young and pretty.”

  Add charmer to his growing list of attributes. Her hand in his tingled at the contact, and unsure of how to respond to his comment, she just smiled, then pulled her hand back to rub it against her jeans. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “Sam, please. I wanted to come by and personally thank you for what you do for the troops.”

  “Oh.” Hannah frowned. “How did you know?”

  “My company in Afghanistan received more than one shipment of your baked goods.”

  “Really?” Her family had received a number of letters from soldiers since they’d started the shipments all those Christmases ago, but they’d never met any of the soldiers in person.

  He swept a hand towards a chair at his table. “Would you care to join me? That is, if you’re not too busy. That looks like a lot of paperwork over there, and I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

  “It’ll keep. I was just taking my afternoon break.” Still smiling, she pulled out the chair he’d indicated, but he moved around the table to hold it for her while she sat. Something in her midsection softened. She was a sucker for courteous men. His good looks and the uniform didn’t hurt, either.

  “You were stationed in Afghanistan?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re starting to make me feel ancient. Please, call me Hannah.”

  His smile drew her in. “Hannah.” The way he said her name in his deep, slow, southern drawl had her moving closer to the edge.

  “My tour just ended, so I’m on leave before reporting back to base.”

  Hannah frowned. There weren’t any Air Force bases near Maryville. Just the Air National Guard Base, but they didn’t have any troops presently deployed. Their baked goods were a local delivery. “Where are you stationed?”

  “Georgia.”

  “You have family here, then.”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, but caught himself. “Sorry. Hannah.”

  “What brings you to East Tennessee?”

  “I came for you.” He flushed. “I mean, it’s like I said, I came to thank you in person.”

  “That’s very nice of you, but surely you have family anxious to see you now that you’re home.”

  He took a bite of his cupcake. “Mmm.” He licked icing and crumbs from his lips. “Delicious. I didn’t think it was possible that they could taste better.”

  She was completely distracted by both his obvious enjoyment of the dessert and by his lips. They looked soft and moist from where he’d just licked the icing and crumbs away. Her wayward mind conjured an image of them looking just like that after a kiss.

  “I made those fresh this morning,” she said. “Getting them halfway around the world takes a bit longer.”

  “They tasted like heaven. The airtight packaging you used kept them pretty fresh. Having the icing in a separate packet was a great idea.” He spoke so softly that Hannah leaned in, not wanting to miss a word. His voice was low with the most beautiful, easy cadence. She could have listened to him talk all day.

  “Don’t get me wrong, the mess hall made baked goods for us, but what they gave us was nothing like this.” He took another bite. “These,” he held up the cupcake, “were like a taste of home.” He set the cupcake down and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “My mom made me cupcakes when I was growing up. They’re my favorite dessert.”

  She crossed her arms on the table, smiling. “What flavor do you like best?” Hannah was thinking she would whip up a quick batch of a dozen or so that he could take with him, since he’d gone to the trouble of finding her shop and delivering his thanks in person.

  “I’ve yet to find a flavor I don’t like.”

  “You have to have a favorite,” she pressed.

  His smile was wide and unrepentant. “The one I just ate is always my favorite.”

  A baker could die happy cooking for this man. This thought, combined with the other strong feelings swirling through her, should have set off warning signals, but instead, everything about him intrigued her.

  “You never answered my question—about your family? I hope you’re not delaying your homecoming on my account. It’s very nice that you came here to personally thank us for the baked goods, but you could have sent a card or letter. That’s what most of the soldiers do.”

  The shadows clouded his eyes once again. “There’s no one for me to go home to.”

  Just then her father walked out of the kitchen, and seeing her sitting with a stranger, approached. “Who’s your friend, Hannah?” he asked.

  She stood. “We actually just met.” Sam stood as well. “This is Lieutenant Sam Evans. Lieutenant, this is my father, Frank Goode.”

  The two men shook hands and took one another’s measure.

  “Daddy was in the Army, Sam.”

  “Is that right?”

  Dad slid his hands in his pockets. “I volunteered right out of high school. Did five tours overseas before settling down with Hannah’s mother.”

  “Daddy was in Desert Storm,” she proudly added.

  “Schwarzkopf is a legend,” Sam said. “Amazing that campaign was so short with no casualties.”

  “I wish the same could be said of the current conflicts in the Middle East,” Daddy added.

  Sam simply nodded.

  “So, you live in Maryville, son?”

  “No, sir. I just wanted to thank your daughter for the care packages she’s been sending the troops. I’ll be heading back to base soon. Since I’m just returning from a tour, I have a few weeks off. I plan to get on my motorcycle and just ride with no particular destination in mind.”

  A smile spread across her Daddy’s face. “You came here just to see my Hannah, then?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, that was mighty considerate of you.” He looked from her to Sam, and back to her. Hannah could see the wheels churning. “You know, we’re having a little family gathering at my folks’ house tonight. Why don’t you join us?”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. Little gathering? “Daddy, don’t you think—”

  Daddy held up his hand. “Now, I insist. We can’t have this young man sitting alone in a hotel and eating restaurant fare when there’s going to be more home cooked food to consume than he’s likely seen in some time.”

  Dread pulled at me.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family gathering,” Sam said.

  Please, God . . .

  “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Hannah, Mom’s birthday cake has been iced. It just needs decorating. I’m going to go pick up your mother and head on over to your grandparents’ house. See that the cake and the lieutenant get there. Four sharp. You know Mom gets cranky if she has to eat too late.”

  Resigned, Hannah said, “All right, Daddy.”

  He held up a hand to them both and then left.

  Several customers entered and walked up to the counter to place orders.

&n
bsp; “If you don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come along,” Sam said, “you could just make my excuses to your father.”

  Hannah sighed. “No. He’d never forgive me for letting you get away. But you should know, if you do come, you’re willingly walking into a circus.”

  Sam smiled and folded his hands in front of him. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go shower and change. I came straight here after we landed,” he admitted.

  “I can’t believe you came here just to say ‘thank you’ when you could be home right now.”

  “It was important to me to let you know in person how much what you did meant to not only me, but to everyone in my company. Little touches from home are so important for morale when you’re away for months at a time under such difficult circumstances.”

  If giving him a cupcake every day for the rest of his life would chase the shadows from his eyes, she’d gladly bake for him. “It’s my pleasure. You and your colleagues have sacrificed so much. In comparison, it’s such a small thing for me to send treats.”

  He stepped closer, into her personal space. The air around them crackled with awareness. “Thank you,” he said softly.

  Sucking in a breath, she swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”

  After a moment, he took a step back, breaking the intensity of the moment, though the feeling of them having shared something profound lingered.

  Sam picked up his cap from the table. “Should I meet you back here at 3:30?”

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” she asked, reluctant to open the door and willingly allow this stranger to walk into what was sure to be one family embarrassment after another.

  He gave her a long slow look that left no doubt as to where his interests lay. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my life.”

  Hannah made a quick trip home to shower and change as well. Family gatherings were typically casual, so she chose jeans and a dark green V-neck shirt that complemented her hair and eyes. Blast her dad for inviting Sam and, as a result, making her a bundle of nerves and anticipation.

  Get a grip, Hannah. It’s Gran’s birthday. He’s a soldier passing through. Tomorrow, he’ll be on his way, and you’ll be back to your routine, which leaves you in your life—a good life, even if men are not presently part of it.

  She should join a dating website. Desperate times had apparently arrived. Measures would be taken, but first she had to get through tonight.

  Looking at herself in the mirror, she smoothed her hands over dark, wavy hair. She wished she had time to curl or flat iron it, but it was probably just as well that she didn’t because she was so out of practice at styling it. Normally, she just threw it up in a ponytail and wore a ball cap in lieu of a hairnet in the kitchen. Practical, but not very attractive.

  Hannah checked her watch. Barely enough time to get her car out of the garage and meet Sam at the bakery. She grabbed a leather jacket, her keys and purse, and locked up.

  The sun glowed a deep, burnt orange as it sank behind the mountains, painting the sky in lavenders and grays. She pulled up curbside in front of the bakery. Since they’d closed up early for tonight’s family gathering, Sam stood out front, waiting. He wore faded jeans, a collared shirt and a dark jacket that fit snugly across his shoulders and clung to his sides, stopping at his waist. She found everything about him appealing.

  Their gazes collided. An easy smile transformed his face and eyes. Good thing he was leaving tomorrow. This man could quickly become more addictive than her cupcakes. She got out of the car and walked around to step up onto the sidewalk.

  He approached slowly. “Going my way?” His voice was low and smoky and skidded up and down every nerve in her body.

  “Sorry you had to wait outside. I hope you haven’t been here long.”

  “No worries.” He moved closer. “Wow. You look great,” he said, giving her a slow look that missed nothing.

  Tongue-tied, she just managed to say, “Thanks. Um, we’d better get going.”

  He took her arm and walked around the car to open the door. Wow. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Oh, Lord . . . did he have to bring up pleasure? It had been so long . . . Hannah worked at getting ahold of her runaway hormones as he walked around and got into the passenger seat, but then he filled up the interior of the cozy Honda CRV with his size and scent. His cologne smelled so good, Hannah had a wild fantasy of nuzzling his neck and breathing him in.

  He buckled his seatbelt, then seeing that she hadn’t done hers yet, reached around her and secured it. His hand brushed her hip in the process, and more heat infused her body from head to toe.

  Instead of moving back to his side of the car, he stayed close, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “Hannah . . .”

  Could a person explode from feeling too much at one time? She pulled her lower lip in to moisten it. What was happening?

  Unable to stop herself, Hannah touched his face. His cheek was smooth, like he’d just shaved. He eased his hand around Hannah’s waist and touched his forehead to hers. Their noses brushed, lips so close their breath mingled.

  Sam said, “This is crazy. I didn’t mean for this to happen—”

  She swallowed hard. “Me either.”

  “But it’s a pleasant surprise.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, although unsure about how “pleasant” his leaving would play into the scenario.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair, and Hannah sighed, closing her eyes as he pressed warm, soft lips to her cheek. Feeling exploded like fireworks against a black velvet sky on a hot summer’s night.

  “Still, there’s always a choice. We don’t have to give in to this feeling.”

  Hannah looked at him then and thought, what a waste that would be. Feelings like this didn’t come along every day. “There’s not really time to debate the point,” she said, not sure if she was talking about Gran’s party, his leaving or both.

  He leaned back a bit, but kept his hand cupped around the back of her neck. “Right.”

  She slid her hand around his wrist, and he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. This felt so good, so perfectly right.

  And then he broke the contact all together. Without his warmth, a cold surrounded her that had nothing to do with the temperature. That should have been a warning that anything happening between them would be a mistake, but she didn’t know if resisting the pull was possible. Earlier, she’d been feeling lonely and like life had passed her by. Was Sam the universe’s answer to her musings?

  They completed the short drive in silence, Sam’s mind a whirl of surprise and confusion. He’d come to Maryville to thank a baker for caring about the troops, but had found a beautiful, intriguing young woman. Hannah Goode had those girl-next-door looks that he’d always been a sucker for—long, dark, reddish brown hair, soft curves, hazel eyes and freckles that had him longing to explore her body so he could find and kiss each one. He passed a hand over his short-cropped hair and tried to breathe normally. Not working. He was about to meet her entire family. It wasn’t a date, but the whole scenario felt damned intimate.

  Stop it, Evans. They’re just being nice to a stranger, alone in town for the night. Nothing more, nothing less.

  When Hannah pulled into the drive of a small, brick rancher, several cars were already parked out front. Inside, Mr. Goode and an older version of Hannah bustled around the kitchen. In addition to her, there was another woman, close in age to the elder Goodes, and two pretty blondes, one he recognized from the bakery.

  “Here they are. Right on time,” Mr. Goode said. He offered his hand. “Glad you could make it, Sam.”

  “When are we eating? I’m hung
ry,” a woman called from the living room.

  “In about an hour, Mom,” Mr. Goode said, chuckling. “She’s been a little demanding since she broke her hip. She was always so self-sufficient; it’s hard for her to let others take over.

  “Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.” He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and gestured to the woman who looked like an older version of Hannah. “This is my lovely bride, Mary. That’s my sister, Christy Lane, and her two daughters, Gracie and Ginger.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Thank you for allowing me to intrude on your family dinner.”

  “Welcome to the chaos,” Mrs. Goode said.

  The women all smiled at him, but kept working at their various food projects. Classic rock played from somewhere in the kitchen, competing with the television in the next room.

  “I’ll introduce you to Mom and Dad in a bit,” Mr. Goode said. “Dad’s still having his afternoon nap on the couch.”

  “Hannah, find your young man a job,” Mrs. Goode said.

  Hannah blushed and gave her mother a look. Sam just smiled and asked, “What can I do?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He couldn’t resist teasing. “Why? Because I have to pitch in or because your mom called me ‘your man’?”

  “The latter, both, take your pick.”

  The devil made him lean in close and whisper, “I don’t mind being ‘your man’ for the evening.” Or longer . . .

  She took a step to the side, but her eyes said she was tempted. Let the dance begin.

  “Everyone has kitchen duty in our family,” she explained. “Want to help me with the appetizers?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m making sausage puffs. They’re Gran’s favorite.” She handed him a couple of tubes of crescent rolls. “Open these and spread the sheets of dough out on the cookie sheet while I get started on the filling.”

  “Sure. Just point me to the restroom so I can wash up.”

  “We’re informal around here. Just use the kitchen sink.”