Love in his Lie

Embrace

"You really plan to go?" He leaned back slightly as if my answer smacked him straight in the chest. Yet, despite his surprise, a slight smirk tweaked the ends of his mouth. It was almost pitying, but a bit of amusement lingered in his gaze.

"So long as I can make it. When is it exactly? We close up earlier than most, but I do work Saturdays."

"It's Easter Sunday, but it's a late lunch kind of thing, so if you work in the morning..."

I could tell by the rise of his voice, he was trying to offer me another out, but his persistence at keeping me away from his family only strengthened my resolve.

"Sundays are our off days," I said with a wave of my hand. "Most people want brunch, not donuts. Plus, we aren't machines. We had to pick at least one day to take off during the week."

"Well, I guess it's fortunate that the picnic fits into your schedule."

"Is it? You didn't seem to consider it very fortunate earlier."

"I'm trying to save you some grief." He sighed with a shrug. "But clearly you aren't willing to back down on the matter."

"Well, you seem to have gotten over it pretty easily, so perhaps it can't be that bad."

"No." He leaned forward and bowed his head to hide a rise of color on his cheeks. "I stand by what I said, but I can't help but see why Justin took an interest in you. I admire your persistence, though I probably should have expected that from someone who changed majors and then started her own business."

"Oh, well, uh, thank you. I guess..."

"So," his voice rose with renewed vigor to pull us away from our uncomfortable tangent, "you want to bring something?"

"Yes. Perhaps a cake. I haven't decorated in a while and I think a lovely spring design would be..."

"Don't you want to know how many you'll be feeding?" His eyes narrowed with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, yes, that would be good to know."

"I'd say seventy-five to one hundred would about do it, if we're being conservative, though I wouldn't be surprised if there's more. It's hard to keep up with how many kids my fifteen cousins have, plus the invitation is extended to spouses' families. You see, I come from a rather traditional Catholic family. It's go big or go home."

"Fifteen cousins... Oh, well then, maybe a cake wouldn't be best. Cutting and serving can be a bother."

"You don't have to make something. It's your day off," he said with a stern clip in his voice. "Don't let them guilt you into baking something for them."

"Hot cross buns," I said with a smack of my fist into my hand.

"Hot cross buns?"

"What's better for an Easter picnic for a Catholic family than hot cross buns? Plus, I can make a lot of them easily. I won't get to brush up on my decorating skills, but I haven't made hot cross buns in a while, so it will be fun to pull out that recipe."

"So you really want to do this?" He reclined in his chair, brushing the bottom of his lip with his finger. His eyes scanned over me as if I was a strange new specimen at the zoo.

"I haven't seen my family since this past Thanksgiving and I won't be seeing them again until Christmas. It would be nice to be a part of a family again."

"Well, I won't stop you. It's your decision. Just know that I'll be there to be your out whenever you need it."

"I won't." I swallowed hard and tried not to think about being in a crowd of people, most of whom I had never met before, and those I had I only really knew by name.

"Yes, even so, should it happen..." He paused to hand the check to the waitress, then continued. "Come to me this time instead of having your friend call. They may get suspicious if you have a fire in your bakery twice."

"R-right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine. If I haven't been clear enough, I understand why you did it."

He didn't understand, though. He didn't know that I'd never really dated his brother, that he proposed while we were both drunk, and that my panic over losing control of the situation wasn't reflective of his family. It was nice to feel appreciated and not have to sit beneath a fog of concern, anxiety, and judgment around a dinner table for once.

"All right, I don't want to eat up all of your afternoon and, regrettably, I do have to get back to work." He rose from his chair, pushing it back beneath the table before stepping over to my side. "Will you be baking the buns fresh? Should I pick you up at your store? I don't want you hefting boxes of buns to the subway."

"Oh, yes, I'll be using the store ovens for sure. So I'll gladly take your offer. I'm not interested in carting those through the city either. Not that it really matters. We live in the apartment above the store, so that's where you would find me, anyway."

I took one last sip of my now chilled espresso and scooted my chair back so I could have space to stand. As I did, I saw Wes reach around, his arm extending behind me as he leaned in. I knew it wasn't uncommon for family to hug each other goodbye, but I still hadn't accepted Justin as my fiancé, so I certainly didn't consider myself family yet. But I had spent most of our outing adamantly defending my interest in attending the family picnic, so I figured it was time to accept myself as an honorary member. I took a breath, put on a smile, and went in for the hug.

It was when I had one arm wrapped around his torso and the other hooked over his shoulder that I realized he hadn't reciprocated the gesture. With my head turned and my cheek pressed against his chest, I saw that the arm I thought was going in for a hug had actually been reaching around to help pull my chair out. I couldn't stop the tensing of my muscles as the painful realization rippled through me and I knew with excruciating certainty that he would, in turn, feel the embarrassed tightening of my body.

I wanted to peel away and dash for the street without looking back, but by the time I stopped seizing in panic, Wes had followed suit and embraced me. His hold was soft, ready to release me the moment I wanted to escape this awkward situation. However, his light touch and warm embrace eased the tension from my skin, melting away my fear so that instead of pushing away, I ended up slipping further into his grip. After a few moments, my senses regained control, and I moved away.

"I'll see you around eleven on Sunday," he said, clearing his throat, his eyes looking down at the patio. "Welcome to the family." With that, we parted ways, him heading back into the building and me taking slow steps towards my apartment with his warmth radiating off my skin.