Chapter Thirty

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Our mood is light as we step into the elevator, and then the lobby of Kace's building, the call from Alexander behind us, at least for now. We're just exiting the building when a doorman in a blue jacket hands Kace a garment bag. "Exactly what you ordered," the doorman states. "And your keys are in your car. Plus," he holds up a finger and walks to the wooden stand where he grabs something and returns with a bag. "For you, from my wife."

"Oh man," Kace says. "Is this what I think it is?" He smells the bag. "It is."

Steven gives a nod. "Banana bread made fresh this morning."

"Your wife spoils me." He motions between us. "Steven, this is Aria. And Aria, this is Steven. He's been here thirty years. His wife needs to have her own bakery. You're in for a treat."

"I can smell it," I say. "It smells delicious. And we haven't eaten all day."

Steven beams. "So happy we came through for you then, miss."

"We're gone for the weekend," Kace informs him. "But tell Sharon thank you."

"Safe travels, you two," he calls after us as we head for the car.

I wave at him but the "we" in that statement Kace just made is presently doing funny things to my belly and chest. I've never been a part of a "we." Is that what we are now? Have Kace and I become a couple?

Almost as if he reads my mind, Kace catches my eye and winks before bringing me into the story he shares with Steven. "His daughter is an aspiring violinist. I wrote a letter of recommendation for her application for Julliard."

There's a pinch in my chest over a dream that was once mine, but that was a lifetime ago, a dream I really do not crave anymore. It's family I crave. And Kace. Somehow the hollow of loss is gentler when I'm with him.

"Then she's good," I assume.

"Very," he confirms, as yet another employee rushes to help us with our bags, including that garment bag, that has me rather curious.

"I got this," the twenty-something man says. "You violin players need to protect your delicate little hands."

"Delicate hands, big bow," Kace jokes.

Obviously, it's a dirty joke that leads to further exchanges between these two, who are clearly friendly. I laugh with them and decide that each moment I share with Kace, he becomes more and more human. As Sara said, he's a man, just a man, and it seems Kace himself doesn't forget this. I shouldn't either.

Soon we are in his fancy sports car, my curiosity about the garment bag sliding away, with my excitement for the trip, but Kace doesn't make any attempt to drive away. He pulls his phone from his pocket. "I'll order coffee on my app if you'll run in and grab the order so I don't have to park?"

"Deal," I say. "Coffee sounds wonderful."

"Same thing you ordered at the bakery?"

"You remember what I ordered at the bakery?"

"You ordered my drink, baby. Yes, I remember."

My lips curve. "Yes. I want the same thing as at the bakery."

He punches in the order. "We have about five minutes. You have to try the bread. And you have to be starving. I damn sure am."

"I am, but don't we need to move from in front of the building?"

"The perks of being a massive tenant are sometimes worth taking advantage of. They'll tell us if it's a problem and we'll move." He grabs a napkin and loads it with a slice of bread for me and then does the same for himself. "Try the bread."

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