Free Babycakes by Donna Kauffman Page A

often, I’m thinking. Best to clear the air now. It’s important things remain calm around here.”
    “I doubt she’d be combative about it. I know it doesn’t matter to me, one way or the other.”
    Gabe smiled again. “Maybe it should. Find her and figure things out.”
    “How do you propose I do that?”
    “It’s a small island. Can’t be too hard.”
    “But—”
    Gabe folded his arms, and Morgan was reminded that he used to be a college professor. Heaven help the student who underestimates the kindly old guy.
    “You’re a lawyer,” Gabe said. “I hear they’re supposed to be pretty good with words. I’m sure you’ll find some.”
    Morgan smiled and shook his head. Cradling his sleeping niece, he crossed the lot to his truck. Intrigued by Gabe’s persistence and his own attraction to Kit, he thought, Yeah, but will the words I come up with be the right ones?

Chapter 5
    F ive whirlwind days later, Kit found herself knocking once again on the back door to the cupcakery. It was time to meet up with more than just Lani and Baxter, who had indeed, turned out to be swoon-worthy. Big and blond, with charm to spare and a killer accent, he and his wife had been ridiculously adorable together the night Kit had had dinner with them. She only hoped the evening went half as well as that dinner had.
    Alva opened the door and motioned Kit in. “Chilly out there. Hurry on inside where it’s warm.”
    With the winter season almost upon them, the Indian summer temperatures had dipped unseasonably low the night before and had barely reached fifty that afternoon. For the Georgia coast in November, it was downright frigid.
    Kit ducked into the kitchen area and Alva quickly closed the door behind her.
    “You changed your hair”—Kit smiled at the older woman—“And here I thought we’d be Team Redhead.”
    Alva patted her bonnet of artfully teased and lacquered curls, which weren’t red any longer, but retained quite a pink hue. “It was just a rinse I was trying out. Laura Jo’s been bugging me about it ever since she went red last year. I told her it wasn’t me, but you know she won’t keep quiet until she gets her way. She claims it’s what got the attention of Felipe, her man friend who runs the bait shop. Well, I tried to tell her I didn’t need any such help, but Lord knows she has her own mind about things. Before I knew it, I was in the chair at Cynthia’s place.”
    “Well, what matters most is that you feel comfortable with it. People give me a hard time for keeping mine so short, but when you work in a hot kitchen all day, every day—”
    “By people, I’m guessing you mean men,” Alva interrupted. “I’ll never understand their unending fascination with long hair. Why, just the other evening, we were watching television and Hank was making a comment about that actress—oh, what’s her name—who went and chopped her hair short for some role she was playing.”
    “Is Hank your husband?”
    Alva surprised her by blushing six shades of pink—none of them matching her hair—and fluttering her hands over the ever-present pearls at her throat. “Why no, that would be my dear, departed Harold. Love of my life, that man. Hank Shearin runs the grocery at the corner. He’s forever blocking our alley out back with his delivery trucks. A more frustrating man you’d never meet. Annoying you with his bullheaded opinions one minute, charming you right into having dinner the next.”
    “Ah,” Kit said, unsure if she should squelch the smile she was feeling. “Well, whatever the fascination they have with long hair, they’ll have to get over it when it comes to me.” She skimmed her palm over the unwieldy tufts of hair poking up on the top of her head and flicked back the ones that constantly fell across her forehead. “I’d shave it, given half the chance.”
    “You know, some women do. You might have the head for it. Our Miss Dre does. Have you met her yet?”
    “Not yet, but now I’m