Despite the fact that she really was enjoying watching the veterinarian consume the pastry she’d made, Lily did feel a little awkward just standing there. Any second now, someone would either come in with a pet that needed attention, or one of the doctor’s assistants would emerge and the moment she was experiencing, watching him, would vanish.
It would be better all around if she left right now.
“Well, I just wanted to drop those off with you,” Lily said, waving a hand toward the contents of the opened pink box. With that, she began to walk out of the clinic.
Christopher’s mouth was presently occupied, involved in a love affair with the last bite of the pastry that he’d selected. Not wanting to rush the process, he also didn’t want Lily to leave just yet. He held up his hand, mutely indicating that he wanted her to stay a moment longer.
“Wait.” He managed to voice the urgent request just before he swallowed the last bite he’d taken.
Lily stopped just short of the front door. She shifted slightly as she waited for the vet to be able to speak, all the while wondering just why he would ask her to remain. Was he going to tell her that he’d changed his mind about charging her for today? Or had the man had second thoughts about his offer to meet her in the dog park on Sunday?
And why was she suddenly experiencing this feeling of dread if it was the latter?
“You really made these?” Christopher asked once he’d regained the use of his mouth.
“Yes,” she answered slowly, her eyes on his as she tried to fathom why he would think that she would make something like that up.
Unable to resist, Christopher popped the last piece into his mouth. It was gone in the blink of an eye. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.
“They’re fantastic,” he told her with feeling. Executing magnificent restraint, he forced himself to close the rectangular box. “Do you do this professionally?” he asked. “Like at a restaurant? Do you work for a restaurant?” he rephrased, realizing that his momentary bout of sheer ecstasy had temporarily robbed him of the ability to form coherent questions.
“I work for a caterer,” Lily corrected. “But someday, I’d like to open up a bakery of my own,” she added before she could think better of it. The man was only making conversation. He didn’t want her to launch into a long monologue, citing her future plans.
Christopher nodded and smiled warmly as he lifted the lid on the box just a crack again. There was a little dab of cream on one side. He scraped it off with his fingertip which in turn disappeared between his lips as he savored this last tiny bit.
He looked like a man who had reached Nirvana, Lily couldn’t help thinking. A warm, pleased feeling began to spread all through her. Lily forgot to be nervous or uncomfortable.
“You’d have standing room only,” Christopher assured her. “What do you call these?” he asked, indicating the pastries that were still in the box.
She hadn’t given the matter all that much thought. She recalled what Theresa had called them the first time she’d sampled one. “Bits of Heaven.”
Christopher’s smile deepened as he nodded his approval. He turned to face her completely as he said, “Good name.”
That was when she saw it. The tiny dot of white cream just on the inside corner of his lips. Obviously not all of the dessert had made it into his mouth. She thought of ignoring it, certain that the more he spoke, the more likely that the cream would eventually disappear one way or another.
But she didn’t want him to be embarrassed by having one of his patients’ owners point out that his appearance was less than perfect.
“Um, Dr. Whitman,” she began, completely at a loss as to how to proceed. She’d always felt out of sync pointing out someone else’s flaws or shortcomings. But this was because she’d brought in the pastries so technically the remnants of cream on his face was her fault.
“Your pastry just made love to my mouth, I think you can call me Chris,” Christopher told her, hoping to dismantle some of the barriers that this woman seemed to have constructed around herself.
“Chris,” Lily repeated as she tried to begin again.
He liked the sound of his name on Lily’s tongue. His smile reflected it. “Yes?”
“You have a little cream on your lip. Well, just below your lip,” she amended. Rather than point to the exact location on his face, she pointed to it on hers. “No, the other side,” she coached when he’d reversed sides to start with. When Christopher managed to find the spot on his second try, she nodded, relieved. “You got it.”
Amused, Christopher was about to say something to her, but he was stopped by the bell over the door. It rang, announcing the arrival of his next patient: a Himalayan cat who looked none too happy about being in a carrier, or about her forced visit to the animal hospital for that matter.
The cat’s mistress, a rather matronly-looking brunette with a sunny smile, sighed with relief as she set the carrier down on the floor next to the front desk. “Cedrick is not a happy camper today,” she said, stating the obvious. Then, before Christopher could turn to the cat’s file, the woman prompted, “Cedrick’s here for his shots.”
That was definitely her cue to leave, Lily thought. She’d stayed too long as it was. Theresa’s people were watching Jonathan, but she had a feeling that she was on borrowed time as far as that was concerned.
“Well, bye,” she called out to Christopher as she opened the door for herself.
She was surprised to hear his voice following her out of the office as he called, “Don’t forget Sunday.”
The butterflies she’d just become aware of turned into full-size Rodans in a blink of an eye.
Lily darted out of the office and hurried to her vehicle.
* * *
“You look like someone’s chasing you,” Theresa observed when she all but burst through the front door of the catering shop. “Is everything all right?” the older woman asked.
“Fine. It’s fine,” Lily answered a little too quickly.
Theresa opted to leave her answer unchallenged, asking instead, “How did he like your pastries?” When Lily looked at her blankly, her expression not unlike that of a deer caught in the headlights, Theresa prompted helpfully, “The vet, how did he like the pastries that you made for him?”
“Oh, that. He liked them,” Lily answered. “Sorry, I’m a little preoccupied,” she apologized. “I’m thinking about the desserts for tomorrow night’s event,” she explained. Because she always wanted everything to be perfect—her way of showing Theresa how grateful she was to the woman for taking such an interest in her—she was constantly reviewing what she planned on creating for any given event.
This time it was Theresa who waved a hand, waving away Lily’s apology. She was far more interested in the topic she had raised.
“Well, what did he say?” she asked. “Honestly, child, sometimes getting information out of you is just like pulling teeth.” Drawing her over to the side, she repeated her request. “Tell me what he said.”
She could feel her eyes crinkling as she smiled, recalling the exact words. “That he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.”
Theresa nodded in approval. “At least he has taste,” she said more to herself than to Lily. Maizie had come up with a good candidate, she couldn’t help thinking. “It’s an omen,” she decided, giving Lily’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll go with Bits of Heaven for the celebration tomorrow night.” And then, because Lily didn’t seem to be inclined to say anything further about Christopher for now,