A/N: Excuse me while I ramble....

Writer's block rears it's ugly head! Thanks to all those who left suggestions for me on how to beat it.  This chapter was like pulling teeth for me though.  I know where things are going, but it is just getting there that's the hard part.  I'll be honest, not a lot happens in this chapter, but after the emotional drain the previous chapter was, and what I have in store for Tom and Charlie...we all need a little break! Hah! But thank you for reading and sticking with me.

Also, much thanks to my lovely friends who have encouraged me so very, very much along the way.  Your words have helped me fight some of the doubt in my head, and have kept me writing for me, despite what others may have me do.  I am not perfect, I don't claim to be, but I have to stay true to the picture I've painted in my head.  Thanks you guys.  @bluebell84 (for making me laugh, fangirl and being w.a.s.)  @redwritinghood09 (for keeping things in perspective, and being the voice of reason and wisdom)  @vintagehouse (for being my long distance lover and confidant)   @inkysnow (for being ridiculously eloquent, cool, intelligent, and our UK tour guide extraordinaire!)

There have really been so many people on Wattpad who have been so kind to me.  A lot of people ask me to read their stories, and I do try to check everything out, but I'm so sorry if it takes me forever.  I thank you all, and wish I could send you each a hug.  xoo

I'm deep in this crazy, long, epic, full color, super realistic dream that entails me standing, teetering on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump or run away.  I'm worried about what's waiting at the bottom though—whether it'll be jagged rocks or a deep, enveloping pool of water.  And I'm just about to make my decision in this dream that has no metaphorical meaning whatsoever, when I am woken up.

Strangely enough, Tom isn't wrapped around me. This time...I am tucked in the space between his arm and his side.  My face is smashed against his chest and his armpit, and it really is actually pretty nice.  I can feel him breathing, I can feel the weight of his arm against my back.  I want to stay there a bit longer, but my phone alarm is chirping, reminding me that it is 4 am, and time to go out and live the brilliant, doughy life of a baker.

"Are you going to get your alarm or am I going to have to throw your phone down the stairs?" He grumbles, and I hear his voice through the echo of his chest.  I lift my head, peering at him through my mess of dark hair. 

"Throw it down the stairs." I say grumpily.  He nods, and then rolls out of bed, literally.  He manages to land on his feet, picks my phone up off the floor and then starts randomly pressing buttons and swiping.  I can tell he's still half asleep, because it takes him quite a bit of time to turn it off.  Once the chirping stops, he drops it back onto the floor with a haphazard clunk and then does a nose dive back into bed.  He assumes the koala position, wrapping himself around me. 

We are only like that for a few moments, before his phone starts making chirps and buzzing noises from the floor beside the bed.  I feel him tense around me and he pushes his nose into my shoulder blade.

"Are you going to get that or am I going to have to throw your phone down the stairs?" I ask, doing my best impression of him.  My accent veers more toward little beggar Oliver Twist than Tom and I feel him chuckle into my shoulder.

"Who would call at such a time??" He grumbles, and then moves away from me. He picks up his phone and then lies back down beside me.  I open up one eye, and I can clearly see him.  He's lying on his back, propped up by pillows slightly, and his eyes are moving quickly across his phone screen.  I open my other eye, because I can tell he's either annoyed or worried about something.

"What's up?" I ask.  My voice sounds like I've been eating sandpaper.  He is quiet for a moment, still reading and then he makes a little grunting noise. 

"What?" I ask again, lifting my head. 

"It was Luke. He sent me an email.  I have to fly to LA to do some emergency reshoots, and he's booked me on a flight in about seven hours." He closes his phone and drops it heavily on the bed.  Luke is his rather diligent, very sweet and hard working publicist and manager. It's still dark outside.  The wind and the rain has calmed significantly, and I'm glad that most of the hurricane seems to have missed us.

"How long?" I ask. I feel this strange little bubble of emotion start to rise in my chest.  I'm not sure what it is.  Worry? Regret? Fear? Whatever it is, I don't like it.  I push it away, shoving it deep in the back of my mind.

"Just a few days. I'll come back after." He turns on his side and faces me.  He's looking at me intently, and I feel as if something has changed between us.  We were open before.  A wide river that was flowing easily, but was filled with rocks and the occasional tree branch.  But now, I feel as if there are no obstructions.  He knows everything.  It feels good to know that I don't have to hide anything.  That I don't have to be ashamed, or always looking over my shoulder. I just feel lighter.

"How long do you plan on staying in Maryland?" I don't know that I've ever really asked him.  Tom presses his lips together, thinking.

"I don't have any commitments for some time.  I thought I was getting married, and going on a honeymoon and all that rubbish." He flashes a grin and it fades quickly.  "I'm going to stay here for as long as you want me to stay.  I can stay until you've figured out the situation with the bakery." His face is mostly shadows, but I can see his eyes, dark, dark almost black blue in this light.

"Okay." It's all I can seem to muster.

"How long do you want me to stay, Charlie?" He turns toward me , and his face turns into all shadows. 

"As long as you want.  Of course I'd love it if you can stay here until I am finished." I say easily.  We don't have the sort of relationship where we see each other all that often.  He is always working and traveling. I am always knee deep in cake batter.  So we go weeks or months without seeing each other.  Then, we will see each other day in and day out for a few weeks.  It's just how it goes.  He's never asked me before what I want him to do.

"Okay, well I'll be gone for a few days and then I'll be back." He nods, and then flips on his phone and starts texting.  I'm guessing he's replying to Luke.  It's around 9 am in London where Luke is based, which would explain the terrible timing.

"Are you going to see Keegan?" I say it before I can get my stupid mouth to stop.  I hate the world as soon as I utter her name.  I don't want to know the answer.  I could go my whole life without knowing that answer.  Tom pauses, mid text, and in the glow from his phone I can see his eyes do this little back and forth thing.  Either my question has surprised him, or he doesn't want to answer.

"I hadn't thought about it." He says softly.  He looks at me then, and I shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep, which is ridiculously really.  I'm not asleep. I'm definitely not asleep.

"Just wondering." I shrug.  He makes a weird little noise and he might be laughing at me, but I'm not sure, and I don't care.  I pretend I'm sleeping for about five more minutes while Tom plays some stupid game on his phone, and then I roll out of bed and pretend to be very rushed and busy as I get myself ready to go to work.

As I leave for Tiny Baker, Tom crawls out of bed and follows me to the door.

"Want me to walk you to work?" He asks.  He's still wearing his boxers and shirt from last night.  He also looks half asleep, and like he may fall over any moment.

"You'll cause quite a panic if you go out wearing that." I say, blinking at him. He grins at me, then opens the front door, leaning against the jamb as I slip by him.

"Hey." He reaches one long arm forward, tapping me on the side.  I turn and smile brightly at him.

"Hey." I say back.  He looks good in this light.  It's gray, early morning light.  The sky is still overcast, and the sun has just barely started to wake up.  His hair is ruffled, and he's still a bit sleepy eyed.

"I'll see you in a few days, yeah?  When I get back, we can work on getting you a new pastry chef and getting you the hell out of here." He suggests.  I take in the sight of him, standing lazily against the doorframe of the hobbit hole.  Strangely enough, he doesn't look out of place.  In his sort of rumpled, relaxed state and in the dewy morning light, he kind of fits in with the little beach house.

"Do you promise?" I smile.  My stomach does a weird little flip, but I'm pretty sure I'm just hungry.

"I promise. Scout's honor." He nods, and then yawns.

"You're not a Scout, so that doesn't really work." I frown at him.  He shrugs and then leans forward, kissing me on the cheek.

"Well, it was worth a try." He laughs, shaking his head.  I chuckle and push lightly on his shoulder.

"See you in a few days.  Be good." I smile, and begin my walk to town.  It takes everything in me not to turn around and see if he's still standing there, his long, lean body relaxed against the door.  I don't need that right now. No, none of that. 

 ****

Luckily, the hurricane really wasn't much of a hurricane after all.  Mostly just a lot of water, some strong winds, and a few plastic lawn chairs knocked over.  The next few days pass uneventfully.  The weather stays on the cooler side though, and it's a nice reprieve from the brutal humidity.  Mandy called in the day after the storm, asking for a few days off, so she could go to the beach with Marcus.  She's been working so hard, that I don't mind her leaving.  I'm almost ready to start interviewing people, and once she gets back from her long weekend, I plan on getting that set up.

It's early Sunday morning, and I'm trying my best to focus on the dozen cupcakes and cookie bars I need to make for my mother's bunco night on Monday.  I hear the front door open and close, and then I hear Mandy's tell tale humming.

"Hi! How was the beach?" I call out, my voice ringing through the quiet store.

"Amazing.  We went to the boardwalk and ate shitty food, and then laid in the sun all day.  It was lovely." Mandy steps into the kitchen, and she does look a shade or two darker.  I smile at her.

"That's great. Did you bring me back any taffy?" I ask jokingly. Mandy laughs and reaches into her messenger bag.  She pulls out a bright pink, cellophane wrapped box of Salt Water taffy. 

"I know it's your favorite." She hands it to me and I laugh loudly.

"You're the best.  Thank you." I smile, shaking the box lightly and hearing all the wax paper wrapped confections move around.

"Was everything okay at the cottage?"Mandy asks, walking into the office to drop off her things.  She pokes her head out the door of the office. 

"It was good." I squeak.  She narrows her eyes at me and then pauses. Her hair is thrown up on the top of her head in a big, poofy ball.  She's wearing what looks like a man's Oxford shirt over floral leggings.

"Are you alright?" Her voice is suspicious. I clear my throat and shake my head.  I've got on my polka dot apron, and it's covering up my super hero shirt that was once Tom's.  He loaned it to me months ago, and then I cut it up and he yelled at me, but then said he was going to let me have it anyway.  I have on cut off jean shorts, and slip on canvas shoes. I feel like wearing Tom's shirt was a bad idea.  I feel like it's suddenly burning my skin.

"I'm fine. Are you alright?" I throw back at her, and I know it's the wrong thing to say.  It makes her more suspicious.

"Did everything go okay with Chase?" She asks softly. We haven't talked about what happened out in front of the bakery, but I knew it was coming.  She's sort of standing behind the door frame, only her head and shoulder visible, and I wonder if she's afraid I'm about to crack.

"Not really but he's a dick, so he acted accordingly." I shrug. 

"Indeed." Mandy looks away and sighs.  We've talked about Chase before, but only briefly. Mandy has lived here longer than I have, at this point, so she knows all the rumors.  The only thing I've ever told her face to face was that we were married, he was an asshole, and I left him.  Her response to that was "He is an asshole.  Good for you." And we had left it at that.

"Did everything go okay with Tom?" She blinks slowly.  I slump a little, and put down my spatula.  Of course my mother would request a dozen double chocolate Oreo cupcakes with sweet marshmallow frosting.  They are toe curlingly good, but also take forever to make. 

"Yes." I swallow. "He knows about Chase now, obviously."

Mandy shakes her head and then takes a step into the kitchen.  "It's good you told him.  He's your friend.  He needed to know."  She crosses her arms over her chest, and watches as I start adding crumbled Oreos to the bottom of my muffin tins.

"He did.  I just didn't want it to be like that." I sigh.

"How did he react?"

"He was a little mad at first, and hurt that I didn't tell him.  But then he was supportive.  I never doubted that he'd support me.  I just...didn't know how to breach the subject, really." I stop what I'm doing and I sit down on a stool.

"Not everyone in this town thinks Chase James is a good guy, Charlie.  You'd be surprised, actually." She says quietly.  It makes me pause and she's piqued my interest.

"His family is pretty well known and respected." I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand.  Mandy nods.

"Yes, they are.  But he isn't.  Not really, not anymore.  A lot has changed since you left.  He's gotten in some bar fights, and one time had to be escorted from the Chesapeake Inn because he was being belligerent.  Can you believe that? Kicked out of his own restaurant." Mandy scoffs and rolls her eyes.  This is all news to me, and it's surprising.

"I didn't know that."

"I know we weren't friends back when you were married, but I knew who you were.  Of course I knew who Chase was." Mandy brushes stray hair from her face and then clasps her hands in front of her.  I'd hired Mandy about two months after I'd been in LA.  My mother had actually been helpful in that respect, because up until then, she had been watching over the store front.  It wasn't much back then.  Mostly just an empty building.  It had been the catalyst for the fight with Chase.  He'd found out that I'd signed the lease without telling him, and he'd freaked out.

"I heard about what happened, that night you went to the hospital." She says gently.  I feel my muscles tense up, but I don't say anything.  "There were a lot of rumors, a lot of people saying different things.  No one wanted to believe it, at first."  Mandy sits down across from me at the table, and when she looks at me next, her eyes are filled with tears.  My brow furrows as I reach forward, touching her arm.  She gives me a watery smile.

"Oh, Mandy..." I breathe.

"I know it's the reason you left.  You thought people blamed you, and you felt like the town turned on you.  I always believed you though.  I knew that Chase was the one that hurt you.  You don't get a black eye from falling off a pier.  You don't break ribs from falling into the water.  Believe me, I've been pushed off a pier enough times by my ridiculous brothers." She smiles, her eyes going to better memories for a second.  I feel an immense amount of gratitude for Mandy.  For so many reasons. 

 "Thank you for telling me that.  You've no idea how much it means." I whisper.  She nods and then is suddenly on me, hugging me and squeezing me against her slender body.  I laugh softly, and hug her back. 

"I'm glad you've been back.  Really, Charlie.  Not just because this place was going to shit without you." She chuckles and pulls away.  I'm moved to the point of almost telling Mandy that I'm glad I'm back as well.  It would be a lie, but maybe not a complete one.

"I'm glad I'm here so I can catch up with you." I say, finding a happy medium. "So, tell me more about Marcus.  And tell me about the classes you're taking." I lean back, and push my batter to the side.  The cupcakes can wait for a minute.

"Well...Marcus is fabulous. And my classes are shit, but what can you do?" She says with a bright smile.  I walk over to the coffee pot and pour each of us a cup as Mandy delves into details about Marcus and her business classes that she's been wonderfully diverted from the last few weeks.

****

I haven't tried to contact Tom since he's been gone.  I don't really have anything to say.  I've been working a lot, as per usual, and keeping myself busy.  I even went to dinner with my mother the other night, and it was only mostly horrific.  We managed to have a nice chat about her cats, and she even complimented me on the shortcakes I brought over for dessert.  I have to admit, even while fighting with my mother over when you should add milk to tea, or the right way to fold a bath towel (don't know how we got on that subject), I manage to keep my cool.  I keep picturing Tom in my head.  He's just smiling.  And for some reason, it's making all my mother's bull shit just sort of slide off of me like water off a duck's back.  Just call me Daffy. Quack.

Tom can be hard to reach when he's working, and I don't worry about it.  It's late Sunday night and I'm curled up in the magical bed.  I'm sort of drunk on the four cups of tea I guzzled, and the sugar from eating the rest of Tom's Hobnobs is making me a bit giddy.  I haven't texted him at all in the last four days, and so I decide that the time is nigh.

How is Los Angeles? A thousand times better than Maryland?

He doesn't text me back right away.  He must be busy.  So in true "Is she a stalker? Or a friend?" fashion, I text him again.

I didn't see anything on the news about planes crashing, or cell service being down in LA, so I'm just wondering if perhaps you had to have an emergency thumb removal operation and that's why you've neglected to contact me.

 I sound terribly whiny and needy, but it makes me laugh.  It may be from the Hobnobs.  I should really just go to bed.  But first, one more text.  For old time's sake.

Hobnobs are overrated. Suck it, Harrison.

I turn off my phone, happy with my brilliant texts and pull the covers up over my shoulders.  When he finally texts me back, it is 4:30 am, which means it is 1:30 in Los Angeles.  My phone chiming wakes me up.  He's sent two texts, one after the other.

Sorry, sweet.  Been run ragged. Be back on Monday. x

 If you ate all my biscuits, I will never forgive you.