On her short walk back to her workshop, the air seemed sweeter, the sky a brighter blue, the town square prettier. Cassie wasn’t naïve enough to think it was coincidence.
No, she understood exactly what had happened to her: Despite knowing just how far out of her league Flynn was, and despite her protests to her mother, she had not only fallen head over heels for Ruby, she had also fallen for the baby’s handsome, brilliant, overwhelmed uncle.
Cassie’s mother hadn’t needed to do any matchmaking at all.
CHAPTER SIX
Flynn always avoided places that reminded him of where he’d grown up. He worked out in a gym, rather than outside surrounded by trees. He vacationed in big-city skyscrapers, never in a log cabin. And he deliberately chose to live in one of the busiest, most-pavement-heavy cities in the world. Had he not felt trapped by the media vultures in Los Angeles, he would never have come willingly to the Maine woods.
And yet, after three days, Flynn was surprised by how much he enjoyed the smell of the fallen leaves mulching on the ground, the smog-free blue sky, the honest physical effort of chopping wood to make a fire, and especially the quiet. As for Ruby, she was never happier than while strapped to his back in a baby carrier as they hiked through the trees, her eyes huge with wonder as he pointed out squirrels and birds and flowers.
For the first time, it occurred to him that he didn’t actually hate nature and its lush green forests. No, what he hated was the way he’d been raised, with shame and anger and not an ounce of the love that Cassie’s mother, Beth, showed her own children. Ruby, too, who had lapped up both her affection and her apple puree.
His gut twisted every time he thought about the half-truths he’d told Cassie in the café. She was the first person he’d told about his sister, the only one who knew that Ruby was his niece. But he’d immediately followed that up with a lie about his parents dying in a car crash.
Lying had never sat right with Flynn, but at seventeen it had seemed like the only way he could start fresh without being dragged down by his family history of drugs, booze, and misery. He’d not only changed the story of his life, he’d changed his name, too, renaming himself after the actor who starred in his favorite movie, a tale in which the hero fought back against his oppressors—and won. Once he started telling those made-up stories to his new friends and colleagues in Los Angeles, he was soon in too deep to climb out and come clean.
All the while, he justified his behavior by telling himself that he hadn’t hurt anyone by shedding his past and becoming someone new. What’s more, he would have given anything to bring his sister out West so that she could start over too. If only she had agreed before it was too late…
Cassie was different, though. She wasn’t hard or jaded or fake like so many of the people he knew in Hollywood. She was a nice person doing a nice thing for him and Ruby.
Which was why lying to her made Flynn feel like the lowest of the low.
For the first time since he was seventeen, he found himself thinking seriously about coming clean. Only, it wasn’t just his future at stake anymore—it was Ruby’s life, Ruby’s future, that mattered most.
Again and again over the past three days, he asked himself the same questions: What was the best thing he could do for Ruby? Keep pretending that there were no shadows in their past? Or admit it all, regardless of the consequences, and forge a new path forward?
His gut continued to churn as he checked Ruby’s diaper bag to make sure they had everything they might need for their evening out. Less than a month ago, he would have been mixing cocktails in his high-tech kitchen for Anja and her friends before heading out to a hot new restaurant in Beverly Hills. As he gave Ruby a last-minute change, due to a leaking diaper, the contrast couldn’t have been bigger. She happily kicked her legs as he stripped off her dress, wiped her down with baby wipes, then put her in new leggings and a top with yellow and green butterflies.
Butterflies and rainbows. That was how Cassie had described her movie-viewing choices. Last night, he’d found Trolls on a streaming service and put it on for Ruby to watch, thinking she might enjoy the bright colors and singing. She had fallen asleep in his lap not long after the opening credits. Flynn had continued watching, however, and had been surprised by how much he’d enjoyed it.
Heartfelt was right on the money. And the story wasn’t half bad either. After nearly two decades spent writing movies, Flynn could spot a story hole or character-motivation misstep from a mile away. He couldn’t think of much he would have done to improve the screenplay. What’s more, he couldn’t deny that the characters—cheerful Poppy and grumpy Branch—reminded Flynn of the two of them. Cassie, at the very least, seemed like she might break out in song at any moment.
No one in Hollywood would dare admit to preferring a movie like Trolls over the latest dark and brooding Oscar contender. The more esoteric and artsy a film was, the more people in the business fawned over it. Even when the truth was that they were bored out of their minds while watching it.
Once he was done changing Ruby, Flynn lifted her up and hugged her to him. Who would have guessed that big one-toothed smiles and clean baby skin beat cocktails and models any day of the week?
Twenty minutes later, he and Ruby were knocking on the door to Cassie’s Confections.
“Hi.” She opened the door with powdered sugar dusted across her cheek. “I just need to set the thermostat for the evening so that nothing melts.” She reached for Ruby, and the baby happily went to her. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
She nuzzled the baby’s cheek as she took them past a room with a desk and filing cabinets, then down a short hallway. He’d expected a candy store, but this looked more like the entrance to a commercial kitchen.
“How have the two of you been doing the past few days?” she asked.
“Good. I was inspired by your mom to make Ruby some puree—” His mouth fell open before he could finish his sentence. “You said you made candy.”
“I do. All of this—” She gestured to the large work in progress on the wide stainless-steel countertop, which looked like the foundation for a building. “—is candy.”
“This isn’t just candy.” He scanned photos on her walls of what he assumed were other structures she’d made. “You create masterpieces.” That was when he realized something else. “I’ve seen your work before. Smith has used your confections in a couple of his movies, hasn’t he?” He circled the worktable. “You have the most incredible eye for detail. How do you do it?”
She looked a little shell-shocked by his praise. “You know what a good cook my mom is. It was easy to learn from her. And speaking of my mom, we’d better get going before all the bacon-and-cabbage rolls are gone. My siblings eat like savages. I’m warning you, if you don’t want to walk away hungry tonight, be bold and pushy when you’re filling your plate.” She tapped a few buttons on the thermostat by the door, then gestured for them to head out.
But he wasn’t ready to stop admiring her work. She was so talented that his jaded Hollywood mind was blown. “Is there anything you’ve made that I can taste before we go?”
“Sure.” She took a tray out of one of her many stainless-steel refrigerators. “This is a sushi-style candy. It’s a really popular style in Japan.” It really did look like a sushi roll. “It’s sweet, but with a little kick at the end.”