In a knee-jerk reaction, I banged my head into the wood above me. A cry escaped me as tears sprang to my eyes. A sense of utter failure assailed me, and I contemplated just how long I could keep my head buried in the cupboard before it got weird. Not very long, it turned out, because Colin dragged me off the floor and into a kitchen chair with such horribly insensitive commentary as “Jesus” and “Are you okay?”

“I made a mess,” I said flatly.

In acknowledgment he gently pressed an ice pack to my head.

I flinched, then let him hold me steady. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” That was all he said, his chiding tone tempered with concern.

The tears fell in streams then, making my voice all high and wavery as I tried to explain. “I’m sorry. I know you said dinner, and I tried to make it, but I just didn’t… I didn’t have time, you know? Or the ability to cook, either. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he cut in.

“But—”

“No, listen. I didn’t mean you’d have to cook. I can cook, or we can go out. Don’t stress out.”

“I am so beyond stressed,” I said, watery.

“Let’s order a pizza.”

The consideration and utter simplicity of the gesture touched me. “Really?”

He handed the ice pack off to me and pulled out his cell phone. “Ordering now. What do you want?”

“But the organic,” I said. “And the grass feeding. I know you don’t just order pizza.”

“Pepperoni with extra chemicals? Got it,” he said to me before he turned to the phone to place a real order.

I swiped at the tears, but they didn’t want to stop. While relief flooded me, I toyed with the empty box of lasagna noodles on the kitchen table. Idly I read the fine print.

“Hell,” I said. “You’re supposed to boil these first?”

“Silly mommy,” Bailey said.

Chapter Fifteen

If I thought I’d made a mess in Colin’s kitchen, it was nothing compared to the bakery.

Cabinet doors were open, pans littered the countertops, and a fine layer of flour coated the entire room. It hadn’t even been this messy that time a hailstorm had knocked in the front windows.

I stepped inside, my mouth open. No one was in the back. The restroom was dark. I peeked into the storefront. Empty.

That left Rick’s office. The door was shut, and I was almost afraid to knock. The place looked like a crime scene. First-degree baking by an idiot, maybe. I couldn’t muster up the proper seriousness when the place looked like a supersized snow globe.

A deep breath. Knowing Rick, this was going to get strange. Well, stranger than usual.

I knocked. “Rick?”

Scuffling sounds from within. Then Rick poked his head out the door. “Allie. What are you doing here?”

“It’s my shift. What happened?”