“Take me home and make me happy.”
His gentle smile offers me exactly what I need. “You got it, Sweetcheeks.”
Chapter 23
As the saying goes, life goes on. Tuesday rolled around and it was time to get back on the horse. May’s was insane from the time we opened until the time we closed. Due to the closure on Monday, we had people waiting in line two hours before we opened. Since the shop had been shut down since Friday, we didn’t even have much to sell. Katie, slick as she is, started pricing the leftover pastries we made for the gathering on Sunday, which went like hotcakes. People strolled in throughout the day, offering their condolences on May’s passing and grabbing a donut and cupcake on the way out. Some customers were afraid we would suddenly close again, so they were doubling their orders to be on the safe side.
This was the routine for the next three weeks. It was a struggle to even keep up our sugar inventory with pastries of all shapes and sizes flying out the door. Business was crazy busy, and every night when I got home, my bed room action was even busier. It seems that a man like Trent Walker is never satisfied. Without defining who or what we are, for the past three weeks he has slept in my bed. On rare occasions he runs home to shower, but most times we take one together, only because it leads to other activities.
I still stick to my theory that he is trying to kill me with sex. I made the mistake of joking about his stamina and how he’s probably going to wear down with all my friskiness. Well, that could only be defined as a throw down. So now that the gauntlet was out there, he hasn’t let up on me since. I think he is waiting for me to wave my white flag so I can repair his manly pride. Every day has been an experience, and every day, I am doing exactly what May asked of me—bringing light back into my life.
When we weren’t devouring each other, we found ourselves lying on the couch talking and laughing. Trent Walker was one interesting guy. I learned that he was actually thirty-four. He, smart man that he is, thought I was younger than thirty-one. I learned he grew up in the outskirts of Colorado and skipped college to join the military, spending a few years in the Marines Special forces. Before he came to Richmond, he worked for the Aurora, Colorado Drug Enforcement gang squad. Apparently, Trent was just an all-around badass.
He wasn’t very forthcoming with any family information of his own, so I talked about my crazy parents and tried to explain how everything in life is in some way related to an Elvis lyric. I spent time sharing with him the details of my life with Jeff, which only seemed to damper the mood. I could tell Trent was never happy to hear about what I went through with Jeff and the neighbor, but he had always kept quiet and listened. This usually led into talk of my TV show obsessions. Since Trent refused to watch Lifetime in any fashion, he volunteered to be the man to expand my knowledge of TV shows.
Luckily, I have taken him up on that and found that watching a show about a biochemistry teacher gone naughty was quite entertaining. Sometimes during the week, if I wasn’t too tired, I would join Trent on his walks with Jake. The times I didn’t, Trent couldn’t get Jake out the door because he wouldn’t leave my side. I seriously wasn’t kidding when I said I was keeping the dog.
It’s also been made public knowledge that Trent and I practically live together. Along with Mrs. Humphries gossiping about our sleeping arrangement, it was made official when Trent barreled into the shop earlier the following week, picking me up over his shoulder and walking me into the back room. It probably didn’t help that I was also in the middle of writing down a cake order for Betty Davis who runs the bunko night all the older ladies attend. I doubt they even play bunko. Right in the middle of “Make sure the S is slightly bigger than the rest,” the bell dings and in storms Trent.
No invitation needed, he walked behind the counter and swooped me right off my feet. I apologized to Betty upside down as Trent carried me back to the bakery, shoving bowls and spoons off my metal table. Setting me down and wasting no time, he slammed his mouth onto mine, coaxing my lips nice and wide and barreling his tongue down my throat. It may have been the world’s best unexpected kiss. He explained that he just couldn’t wait till I got home to ‘taste something sweet’. His words. He then left just as quickly as he came. I would have played it off but the whole entire shop was as quiet as a mouse trying to hear anything they could to bring back to their local gossip circle. After pulling myself together I walked back out, and with my chin held high, continued taking Betty’s order.
I think about every time we are intimate and the sweet confessions we trade. It’s those moments when we are lying in bed and our sexual activity is more gentle and slow. Making love. We both know that’s what’s happening. There is no hiding the emotions that flow through both of us. The looks we share. The touching. The endearments. I know Trent is fighting something inside him. When I think he’s ready, he detours. When he is lost in the moment and starts off by saying “I love—” he ends it with something that is not “you”. It always turns into my skin, my laugh, my smell, or my baking. It’s like he catches himself every time. It bugs me that he seems to be fighting it.
But who am I to talk? I’m all sealed lips over here. I’m not sure why I don’t just say it. I know I feel it, in my bones and down to my core. It was never like this before with Jeff. This is a feeling that I wouldn’t even be able to describe if someone forced me to. It is the most real and honest surge of emotions I had ever felt for another person.
I also miss May. Sometimes when I get the time to slow down, I think about her and I get sad. Trent is always there to pick me up, and for that he is my hero. Word got out that I would be taking over May’s and all sorts of questions flew at me. Would I be closing it? Am I going to change the menu? Would we no longer be offering two-for-one tarts Tuesdays? I mean, who would have thought a town would go into such complete panic over pastries?
Which brings me to today, three weeks in the present. It’s a good thing I am the owner now and Katie has a key, because Trent acts like it is his civic duty to always make me late.
I park in my daily spot and peek through my passenger side window at the chaos in the store. I swear I am going to have to put a ban on Mrs. Humphries and Betty coming into the shop at the same time. Pushing through the front door, I see a very stressed out Katie. I take in the scene and, like any typical Tuesday, Mrs. Humphries is waving her finger in Betty’s face, blocking the pastry viewing window.
“Listen here. I told you they were being held for me. There is no reason for you to try and fight me for them.”
“If they were being held for you then they shouldn’t be in the viewing window! Katie, wrap those up for me,” Betty demands.
“Katie, you do no such thing.” Whoa, Mrs. Humphries and that bark of hers.
“Katie, if you want my continued business, you will wrap up those tarts. I am a paying customer, and if you are refusing to serve me then—”
“Hello, Betty.” I turn. “Mrs. Humphries. What seems to be the problem?”
Both start shouting at me at once. Pastries this. Mine that. Party this. Must have that.
“I understand both of you, but if you can please just calm down, I have a whole new batch in back. It’s not your usual but it’s a new recipe. You can both take half and be the first to try them. On the house. How does that sound?”
They both lighten up. Nothing like getting to be the first to try one of the infamous CeCe’s pastry delights. Once I month, I usually bring in a new recipe and test it out on customers. We leave the samples on the counter for people to try. This new one is my apple fritter coffee cupcake. It’s like eating fall in the summer, with a hint of a coffee jolt. It’s quite delicious if you ask me.
I tested it out on Trent the other night and it earned me a pretty sweet fireworks show, if you know what I mean. There is just something so sensual about warm sugar stirred into a beautiful cream displayed all over the naked body. Trent reminded me that I owed him a lesson on Sugar 101, but I think he was the one that gave me the lesson. As
the warm apple fritter cupcakes baked and cooled, the icing was spread, basted and licked clean. It’s a shame the icing never made it on a single cupcake.
Back to reality. With two happy old ladies and a problem averted, I head for the back and dump my purse on my metal table. Today, I am not baking. I stayed late last night to compensate for my absence in the bakery today, because today I have a meeting. I’ve been sitting on this idea for some time now and now that I don’t have to save up money for my own shop, I feel like I have the perfect idea for how to invest my money. I grab my phone in case Trent calls and head back out front.
“Katie, I’ll be right next door. If you need me or any more fights break out, come and get me.”
“You’re going next door? There isn’t anything next door…”
“You’re right. Smart girl.” I wink at her and head next door. I see Mrs. Wilson, the town real estate agent, standing by the vacant door waiting for me. She sees me approach and steps forward, reaching her hand out.
“Why hello, Ms. Westcott.”
“Hi, Mrs. Wilson, thanks for meeting with me today,” I say and shake her dainty hand.
“Oh no, thank you, dear. If this meeting leads to getting this lot off my hands it will be all worth it. Why don’t we go inside and take a look?”
“Sounds good, after you.” Mrs. Wilson holds the door open as I enter the stuffy, abandoned store. The place has been vacant for years. Not too sure why. Mrs. Wilson swears it meets all building codes and that it’s just due to a lack of business in the town.
I walk in and take a tour of the deserted space. The air is stiff and moldy from no activity. Mrs. Wilson flips on the switch and the store glows to life. I do a 180-turn, observing the illuminated area. It looks run down and old; the walls are dirty and the floor definitely needs replacing. I walk toward the back room and it’s bare. Nothing to stand in my way. One might see a disaster, but I see a future.
May’s has been running on just pastries since it opened. On more than one occasion throughout the past years, I found myself struggling to stay fully awake and would seriously sell my soul for quick access to caffeine. And what goes better with pastry than a caffeine concoction? The idea came to me one night while I was having a wine-a-thon. Of course, every great idea branches from wine. I was jotting down ideas on how to expand May’s and whether or not it was possible to add coffee into the already crazy mix.
It’s always a question that is asked by passersby; do we serve drinks? We don’t. “It’s just another hassle,” May said. So we do solids, not liquids. But one night, I was polishing off my last bottle of Spanish red and when I went to get another bottle, I realized I was out! Like dry outta wine. I mean, I didn’t think it was ever possible to get to the bare end of my wine cabinet, but it happened. I, of course, panicked.
I talked myself into calling for help, but I couldn’t dial anyone without shutting one eye. Then I thought to drive, but, well, I smartened up. There have been a few times in my life where I felt the world was about to end and this was of course one of them. I couldn’t breathe and I was pretty sure I broke out into a cold sweat. I was having withdrawal.
I hadn’t refilled my mouth with a sip of wine in…I looked at my watch. Yeah, who knows? I couldn’t see the hands, but either way it was not good. I tried to calm myself, so I grabbed a bunch of ingredients and started to bake. Since I needed the fix, I went over to my Keurig, popped a cup in, hugged and kissed him and then went on with baking.
I spent the remainder of the evening eating cupcakes and drinking coffee. I babbled to myself about how much I loved wine. Then, how much I loved coffee. Then I babbled about how I wish I could drink it all day long. I pictured myself drinking wine at work all day while I baked, and I thought that sounded glorious. Then I realized that it probably was some sort of code violation to be drunk on the job all day long. I geared my focus back to wishing I could drink coffee all day. And that’s when my idea was born. If I am going to be honest, my first idea was a wine bar—coffee idea second.
So now, I am standing in the vacant store and envisioning the expansion of May’s. I sent my requests to Mrs. Wilson before our meeting and she let me know that the landlord was completely okay with my renovation requests, since it was bringing in revenue for him. I turn to the left and stare at the wall that connects with May’s. Knocking down the wall will open up the bakery and turn the other portion into a barista station. A full, running coffee house. We would have to hire on some more staff, which is in the budget. I'm sure Katie will be relieved to finally get some help.
“Mrs. Wilson, I think this is perfect!” I turn to her and gleam.
“Oh, how wonderful, Ms. Westcott. If you are serious, I can head back to my office and type up all the contracts. We can have you come in and sign tomorrow, or I can stop by your house.”
“That would be great! Can you leave me with a key? I would like to show my associate the room.”
“Oh yes, it’s about to be yours anyway. Here you go.” She hands over the set of keys to me. We both walk to the entrance and out to the sidewalk.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Wilson.”
“No, thank you, Ms. Westcott. I can only imagine that you are planning to expand May’s, and let me tell you, if it’s gonna be soon, this means I don’t have to be crammed in line behind Betty and Mrs. Humphries every morning. I swear, those women argue over pastries like a set of bratty teenagers. And I know teenagers. I have four!” She gets a laugh out of me. I seriously need to put my foot down with those two women.
“Well, I hope I won’t disappoint, Mrs. Wilson.”
With that, we shake goodbye and I walk back next door and into May’s. “Hey Katie, take a break.”
“What? Take a break how? We have customers.” I turn to Mr. Jenkins and his construction staff.
“Boys, I'm stealing away the service for a couple of minutes. Behave and no stealing pastries while we’re gone.”
“Sure thing, CeCe,” they respond in unison.
“Problem solved. Let’s go.”
Katie thinks I'm crazy. She is looking at me with her ‘I think you’re crazy’ face. I tug on her hand and walk her out of May’s and next door. I open the door and push her in.
“You’re starting to scare me, you know.”
“It’s okay. I tend to do that to people sometimes. Now…look around and tell me what you see.”
Yep, there’s that crazy look again. I nudge my head at her, silently telling her to do as ordered. She takes a step forward and surveys her surroundings.
“Um, an empty room in major need of some TLC?”
“Great, me too! What else?”
“Bugs?”
Ugh, yeah, me too. “Okay so let’s move past all the non-pretty stuff. Use your imagination. How about I rephrase my question? What can you see? As in, possibilities?”
Ah, the wheels are finally starting to turn. She looks back at me. Oh, this one’s new. It looks like a ‘you are crazy but a cool kind of crazy’ face.
“Expansion?” It’s half statement, half question.
“Ding ding ding! Okay, for what?”
“Wine?” Man, she knows me well.
“The third most important food group,” I say, because sugar is one and wine is second.
“Coffee?”
“Ding ding ding!” I yell and grab Katie’s hands and start jumping up and down.
“You’re finally going to do it?”
I stop jumping. “You knew about this?”
“Well, yeah, I was always standing by you when you would press May for the expansion.” Eh, good point.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I think it’s an amazing idea.”
“You do? Promise? You don’t think May will be rolling in her grave at the idea of adding liquids to the mix, do you?”
She smirks and rolls her eyes at me. “Ha ha, and no. She left you the shop, CeCe. She knew what ideas you had up your sleeve. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to do anythin
g but shine. Don’t hold back. This is a great thing for May’s.”
My sweet Katie is getting all mushy on me. “Aw, thanks, Katie.”
“I just ask one thing.”
“Sure, anything,” I say.
“We hire on more staff. Now that May is gone and can’t tell us no, we need more hands.”
“Done!” I reply all too quickly.
“And preferably a good-looking male.”
She gets a snort laugh for that one. I love Katie. “Done as well. I will even let you interview and hand-pick him.”
“Good, now let’s get back to work before Mr. Jenkins pockets the whole store.”
She’s right. No matter how stern I sounded back there earlier, Mr. Jenkins is so leaving our shop with free cookies stashed in his pants.
Chapter 24
“Oh God…ooooohhh God.”
“Babe, it’s pretty fuckin’ sexy when you call me God while I’m balls-deep in you.”
Balls-deep is describing it mildly. Because he is hitting so far home right now, I think he might break my vagina. “Yeah, that’s it babe, let it go.” I hate being told what to do, but every damn time he tells me when to come, dammit, I do. It’s like he has complete power over my libido and gets me to blow on command. It’s not fair. Of course, my lady bits betray me and I do as I'm told; I clench all around him and release. Trent is not far behind me and I feel him explode.
Once I float back down to Earth, I smile into Trent’s chest. Today has been pretty awesome so far. Mrs. Wilson just left with the contracts and I just signed my life away. I am now the proud owner of yet another unit, soon to be made into one. Not twenty-seven seconds after Mrs. Wilson shut the door, Trent and I were on the living room floor ripping each other’s clothes off. Who would have thought signing papers could be such a turn-on?
“I love the way you look right after you orgasm,” Trent mumbles into my neck.
“Oh yeah?” I laugh. “And what look is that?”
He pulls himself up and looks into my eyes. “Happy. Content. Spent.”
Life Next Door (Love Not Included Series Book 2) Page 12