Dave couldn’t help stopping by the bakery in the morning on his way to the community center. Brooklynn liked to bake, he knew that. She always had. She’d had a birthday party when she turned thirteen, and it had been at the community college kitchens. Everyone had participated, and though Dave’s brother’s cake had been wet in the middle, it had still tasted good.
When they’d gone to their junior and senior proms together, she’d baked cookies each time. He could still smell them as he drove in his car, though this was a vastly different vehicle than what he’d driven in high school.
They hadn’t had a real romance in high school. Not by his standards. They’d gone out a few times, and he’d kissed her twice. But the call of the ocean had been stronger than waiting in town for two years for he
