Life Next Door (Love Not Included Series Book 2)

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “God, I fucking missed you. Don’t fuckin’ shut me out again, CeCe,” he demands, slowing the kiss, tugging softly on my lower lip.

  I am most certainly not about to let what happened go, but right now he’s turning me into putty and I need my fix. Fix now, battle later. My brain and my libido both agree.

  I press into him harder, but he breaks away and I whine.

  “Babe, what I want to do to you right now is not appropriate with customers up front, and I also know we need to talk before anything else.”

  I let out a sigh. “Okay,” I comply. I am putty in his hands right now. Fix now, battle later.

  “I have to head to the station and finish up paperwork. Then I'm coming back for you. I'm driving you home. Can’t have you going AWOL on me again.”

  “Okay,” I say again. I wish I had something more intelligent to say other than stuttering the same thing over and over, setting my responses on repeat.

  “I want you out of your head, baby. Then I want you under me. You feel me?”

  “Okay.” Oh, for the love!

  “CeCe?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you. Let me prove it to you. Let me explain, then show you just exactly how deep that love runs, yeah?”

  Putty. “Okay.”

  At that, he laughs. I think he gets it.

  “Good.” He plants a gentle but quick kiss on my swollen lips. He steps away and I practically peel my body off the refrigerator door. “Two hours. Be ready.”

  I just nod my confirmation. If I spoke, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what would have come out.

  He lifts his hand to brush a lose strand of hair dangling in my face and tucks it behind my ear. He gives me that smile that I have missed in my core and then walks out. I stand there in place as I hear the bell ding, knowing he is gone. It’s only when Katie busts into the bakery that I snap out of it.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, out of breath.

  “I think so.” Because I do think so.

  “What did he say? Did you tell him to beat it? Threaten him?” She is staring at me, waiting for me to confirm my next move. It doesn’t take a genius to study my swollen lips and blushed cheeks. I see Katie putting two and two together. She crosses her arms against her chest. “So, I assume you are finally going to let him explain?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Well, because you look like you are about to swoon and you have that look back. That look like something or someone is lighting you up, and no offense, CeCe, but you kind of look…like all aroused or something.”

  God, Katie did not just take this conversation there. “Oh my God! I do not!”

  “Whatever you say, Ce. But your face is telling a whole other story. Listen, I’m happy for you. I was hoping it would have turned out this way over the other. I know I said some mean things about Trent, but to be honest, I like him. I do think he is good for you. I’m glad to see you are going to give him a chance to explain. I think you will see things in a whole new light when you do.”

  “Wait a minute. How would you know how I'm going to take what he says about anything? What did he tell you? Have you talked to him?”

  It’s the look of a child who just got caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

  “Oh, you better start talking, like five seconds ago, missy.”

  “Well, I’ve talked to him,” she says, starting to shift from one foot to the other.

  “And…?”

  “Well, he’s been calling daily to check up on you. Asking how you’re doing, stuff like that. Finally, one time, I just went off on him, telling him what a jerk he was for hurting you. Apparently your man is not one to take shit, so he let me have it. He told me his side. Hearing what he had to say, it gave me a change of heart, and in return I’ve let him call and know how you are doing. Like honestly doing.”

  She is assessing my reaction to this news. Seeing as I don’t look like I’m going to attack, she continues. “He needed to know how he hurt you, Ce. He needed to know so he could make it right. But since he was on a job, he couldn’t get home, so he asked me to keep tabs on you.”

  “Tabs on me?”

  “I mean, nothing crazy like a stakeout or anything. Just how you were at the shop, when you got here. When you left. If you had mentioned any more egging stories.”

  Seriously, get over it. They’re just eggs!

  “It’s none of my business, but I know he’s been hurting, too. I could tell hear it in his voice when he had to listen to me explain all the burnt cakes and the no-show at work. I think he cares deeply for you, Ce, and I just think that you should hear him out.”

  “How come you never told me this before?”

  “Because you needed to work it out on your own. I didn’t want to interfere. And I needed to know he was worth it. I knew, same as you, it had to be him to make the move. Which he did.”

  My Katie, such a wise soul in a young body.

  There’s nothing more to say except, “Thank you.” We reach for one another and hug. I tell her she is the best employee I’ve ever had, and she reminds me that she is the only employee I’ve ever had. Good point.

  I tell her to go home. I will finish out the rest of the day. She doesn’t even argue; she collects her stuff and takes off. Apparently she has a date with Jacob tonight and the extra time to freak out in her apartment will do her good.

  I spend the rest of the afternoon taking stock of the viewing window and researching high-tech coffee machines. I'm sitting in the back on the laptop, trying to figure out the difference between a Dolce Gusto and a Swiss Precision Coffee Machine, when I hear the bell. I look at my watch and see that it’s five after five.

  “I'm back here,” I call out. Not that Trent couldn’t figure out where I was. I save my search and begin to shut down the computer. This can wait. I have more important matters to discuss. After talking to Katie, I think the fight in me is all gone. I just want to hear what Trent has to say, then hear him tell me he loves me over and over while we make out all over the house. Where there’s a breakup, there’s a makeup, and ours will be in the form of a sex fiesta.

  I stand to meet Trent by the doorway, and freeze.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I lock eyes with the one and only she-devil.

  With her dainty arms bent, holding her hips, and body language screaming sassy bitch, the she-devil speaks. “Well, it seems that you mean something to my brother and he means something to me. And if I don’t make it right, he’s not going to be a part of my life anymore. And I can’t have that. So I’m here to make things right.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  I don’t think so. She is not just going to walk in here and throw her sass at me with some fake truce. “I think you have done enough. So you can, oh, how shall I say it, your words exactly, get the fuck outta here?” I stare back at Candy, Cassie, I don’t really care what her real name is. I might be ready to forgive Trent and move past this but I swear I will NOT get past she-devil.

  “Listen, I’m not here to fight. If you just calm down for a damn second, you will actually hear an apology outta me, but if you’re gonna continue to be such a bitch about it, then I'm outta here!”

  No one, and I mean NO ONE, calls me a bitch in my own bakery. This is a safe place, and you do NOT mess with the sanctuary of the bakery.

  “That’s it, bitch.” That is me officially throwing down the gauntlet. It’s on...I'm taking her ass down. Then I'm going to send her back to Jeff with patches of her hair missing. I get two battle steps in when I hear the bell. Good, Trent’s here. He can help peel his sister off the floor when I’m done with her. I’m about to meet fist with cheek when a male face I do not recognize walks into the back. I abruptly stop. Dude, who just walks into the back of someone’s shop?

  “Sorry, we’re closed,” I say. He needs to beat it. Cassie takes her eyes off me to turn and look at our intruder. “Sir, I said we are closed. I’m sorry you’re going to have to come back on Monday whe
n we reopen.” I’m getting annoyed. People just need to get a grip when it comes to their pastry addictions.

  The way he is just looking back and forth between the two of us is starting to give me the creeps. He doesn’t seem to be registering my words. Cassie steps in and addresses Mr. Creepo. “Hey, buddy, she said they’re closed. Now fuckin’ beat it, would ya?” Again, it’s like he is just looking straight through us. Just when Cassie turns to physically remove him, he snaps out of his daze. He reaches in the back of his pants, as she makes it into his personal space. Project Get the She-Devil Out of My Bakery quickly takes a back seat when he pulls out a gun and places it against her head.

  Whelp…definitely didn’t see that one coming.

  All at once, Cassie freezes. I freeze. The creepy guy freezes. “Oh my God, what are you doing?” That’s Cassie. I’m too busy trying to get air down my throat into my lungs. First name calling, now blood splatter in the sanctuary. This is not good.

  I have to do something. Use your words, CeCe. “Okay, we get it now. Please put the gun down. You do not want to hurt anyone, sir.” I try to move forward but that causes him to flinch, which makes Cassie flinch and brings me halting to a complete stop.

  “Don’t move. I don’t want you to move,” he says, pressing the gun harder into Cassie’s forehead.

  “Okay okay! I’m not moving, please. Don’t hurt her. Whatever you want, you can have. Just please, put the gun down.” This doesn’t sit well with our new, unstable friend, and he starts getting more agitated. He pushes Cassie and she trips and falls backwards. He then takes his gun and points it directly at me.

  “Do not tell me what to do. DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Yep, he’s screaming. I specialize in cupcakes, not psychos, so I just nod and stay quiet. I know that Trent is supposed to come back here any minute. He’s a badass detective. He will take this guy out. I look down at Cassie and she is clearly shaken up. I don’t know what to do at this point. Clearly moving and talking are not on the okay list with this guy, but he is also not saying what he wants.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you. Please. Tell me what you want and I will go get it for you.”

  “Money. I want money. I know you have it. All people talk about is how fucking lucrative this place is. Where is it? And don’t try to fucking lie to me.” He gets all fidgety again, waving his gun all over the place. I can’t help but duck because this guy is a ticking time bomb and I really don’t want to die today.

  “Okay, yes. Go to the register in front. It’s open. Take whatever is in there.”

  He looks at me and debates leaving us in the back. His urge to grab the money wins out and he runs up front. At that moment, I dash to Cassie and help her up.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh my God. Is he going to kill us?”

  Again, I specialize in sugar, not tarot card reading, so I give her the only honest answer I can.

  “Depends on how happy he is with what’s in the register.”

  “What does that mean?” she screeches.

  “Well, we had a good day, so maybe he is okay with what’s in there and just takes off.”

  I hope that is the case, because my adrenaline can only keep me together for so long before I completely lose my shit.

  “Cassie, do you have a phone on you?” I ask her. Mine is in my purse below the register, which does me no good. She fumbles, around feeling around at her front and back pockets. She pulls her phone from her back pocket.

  “I do! Oh God, what if he comes back here and catches us on the phone calling for help?”

  “He won’t. Just dial 9-1-1 and put the phone back in your pocket. We will talk so they can hear us and if he comes back here, he won’t see the phone.”

  “Okay...okay...” She looks at her phone, and with shaky hands, she slides the bar open and dials 9-1-1. As the call connects, she jams it back in her pocket and our intruder hustles back into the room.

  “Where is the rest of it?” he yells.

  “That’s all that’s in here. I swear.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, bitch!” he comes barreling toward me, pulling his gun out and sticking it straight between my eyes. I don’t see it because I am squeezing my eyes shut, but feel it.

  “I swear. We do nightly deposits so no money is kept at the store.” My voice is starting to shake.

  “Bullshit. I don’t believe you. Every place has a safe. Where is it? And if you don’t start cooperating, I'm gonna put a fucking bullet in your friend over here and then one in you.”

  That gets a sob from Cassie. “Please, CeCe, give him what he wants,” she begs.

  Using that line in the movies never works, so I'm not sure why I thought it would work for me. Everyone does have a safe, and of course our whole week’s gross income is sitting in it. I was hoping to avoid this part, but this guy doesn’t seem to be getting any less agitated. As much as I would like to see Cassie in pain, there will be no blood in the sanctuary.

  “Okay, okay...please don’t hurt anyone. Please just put the gun down and we can go to the safe.”

  He takes that moment to raise his hand and side-punch me with the gun. And man does that shit hurt. It sends me off balance and I trip over the power cords and fall backwards. I land on my ass, and before I know it, Mr. Crazy Pants is on top of me with his hand wrapped around my neck.

  “I'm not gonna tell you again. Don’t fucking tell me what to do. I have the power here, NOT YOU!”

  I try to answer but he is quickly cutting off my air supply. I nod instead, and when he feels like he’s made his point, he jumps off me.

  “Get the fuck up. Where’s the safe?”

  I sit up and things get a little blurry. Between the choking and the face punch, I’m a bit dizzy. I get to my feet and sway. He grabs at my arm and pulls me forward.

  “Where is it? I’m not going to ask you again.” He lifts his gun and begins to point it at Cassie.

  “Okay! It’s in the back, under the desk.”

  “Good girl.” He pushes me toward the back desk and I stumble at least a billion times. I’m just not good under pressure and I can tell I’m slowly starting to panic. This guy is just not right. We make it to the desk and he pushes me forward, causing me to stumble and drop down, scraping my knees against the cold cement surface. “Open it.”

  I am trying to turn the lock, but my hands are shaking so bad I keep missing the numbers. Losing his patience with me, he grabs a chunk of my hair and pulls me backwards, sending shooting pain throughout my scalp. He pushes me to the side and I fall over.

  “You’re fuckin’ useless, bitch. What’s the fucking code?” He kneels down in front of the safe, waiting for me to give him the code.

  “It…it’s...3, 32, 5, 13—”

  As I stutter out the numbers to the safe, I definitely do not see Cassie coming from behind, with my metal blender. In one swift swing, Cassie takes my state-of-the-art metal blender to Crazy’s head, knocking him completely out.

  “Holy shit,” I say and scoot back so his unconscious body doesn’t fall onto mine.

  “Holy shit is right,” she says. Sounds like she is just as stunned as I am at her heroic actions. Just then the creeper moans and we both scream and start kicking him like two crazed women.

  Without even registering our new audience, we are both pulled away from our attacker. A uniformed officer is on Cassie and Trent is on me.

  “Jesus Christ, what did you do to that guy?” the officer asks.

  We both look at our attacker; he is out cold with a growing knot on his head and a bleeding nose.

  Trent doesn’t stick around to hear our explanation. He turns to Cassie and the officer. “Take her out back and check to make sure she is okay. Then take her statement. Don’t let her out of your sight until I get back to her.” He sounds mad. I am suddenly lifted off the ground when he carries me from behind, back up to the front and sits me down on the front counter. He begins checking me out, searching for injuries.

&n
bsp; “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” His hands are all over the place, touching my ribs, hands, legs. He catches the nice lump I have on my head and I wince. His facial expression turns almost deadly.

  “I’m okay, I swear. It’s just a bump. Now I can cross off being clocked in the head by a gun off my bucket list.”

  “CeCe, this isn’t funny,” he growls at me. I know it’s not, but if I allow what happened to sink in, I might possibly freak out. Even worse, I might cry. And I really do not want to cry.

  “I’m fine. I promise. Just a little shaken up. But you’re here, so I’m better.”

  His strong features turn soft as he brushes his hands up and down my thighs. “Jesus Christ, CeCe, I was at the station when the 9-1-1 call came in. The dispatcher connected the call to us and we heard everything. I saw nothing but red as I listened to that motherfucker talking to you like that.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine. Seriously. Just another day at the office.”

  “CeCe,” he returns in warning.

  “Okay, yes, it was really scary, but it’s over. Please, let’s just go home.”

  He stares me down, deciding if I am truly alright. “Why was my sister here?” The question of the hour. Probably also why, once he makes sure that she isn’t hurt, he is going to lay into her.

  “She was here to apologize.”

  “Apologize?” he questions.

  “Yep, and right before she was going to beg me for my forgiveness, we were rudely interrupted. So be easy on her. Don’t scare her off before she grovels.”

  At that, he laughs. Then kisses me. Then kisses me some more. “I love you, CeCe Westcott.”

  “I love you, too, Trent Walker.”

  “I might have to have sex with you before we do any talking.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “Good.”