The Perfect One: A Second Chance Romance

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The Perfect One: A Second Chance Romance Page 2

by Scarlet West


  My brother hustled out from behind the bar and headed towards me. “Did you see who’s at the bar?” he asked in a fake whisper that could be easily heard by half the bar. “Go say ‘hi’ to Nolan.”

  My eyes shooting daggers at my older brother as he passed, I stuck on a smile to hide my embarrassment. As casual as I could be, I walked to the bar and greeted the guy I’d been crushing on since middle school.

  “Hey, Nolan. Long time, no see.”

  “Molly,” he said with a nod, his gaze focused on his empty glass.

  Realizing there was no way this conversation wasn’t going to be awkward, I soldiered on. “Home on leave?”

  “Retired,” he replied.

  “And you’ve come back to Hatfield?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. Although I’d wished he would every day for ten years, I’d never really figured Nolan would come back. He’d as much as told my brother so before he left and he hadn’t set foot in town since.

  “For now. But not for long.” His words were backed by iron, and I stiffened at his tone. Hatfield might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it wasn’t a bad town, not by a long shot. Still, I knew Nolan had his reasons. Life couldn’t have been easy after his mom died.

  We sat in silence, mostly because I was too busy studying him to speak. He was just as handsome as ever, even more so. At eighteen, he’d been a tall drink of water with burgeoning muscles and an endearing crooked smile.

  At twenty-eight, he could have made Michelangelo trade in his model for David. He was still tall, but those muscles had grown in perfect proportion. His dark hair, cut short, was thick and shiny, perfectly complemented his stunning eyes, which were gray, but in the right light, seemed to gleam like silver. I had to assume his smile was still crooked and endearing, as I’d yet to see a sign of it.

  “What’s in the boxes?” he asked, distracting me from my catalog of his features.

  “My buns,” I said, then blushed when I realized how that sounded. Then I made it worse. “And my pie.”

  Nolan turned to make eye contact at last, one corner of his lips twitching upward. I sputtered for a moment, then gave up and broke down into a fit of giggles. That earned me a hint of a smile. And, for the record, it was no longer endearing.

  It was fucking devastating.

  I pulled myself together. “Let me clarify. I own a bakery. The Sweet Spot. And I was dropping off the tavern’s weekly order.”

  “The Sweet Spot,” Nolan mouthed to himself. “Sounds about right.”

  I wasn’t sure how to process that, and luckily I didn’t have to, as Jackson came out of back, a bun hanging out of his mouth. “I still don’t know how you make these so soft and delicious.”

  “Delicious is my middle name,” I said by rote, because that’s what I always said. But when I saw a flash of heat in Nolan’s eyes, I realized that my statement possessed another connotation. One that created an answering flare of heat inside me.

  “Those are for the customers,” I reminded my brother. Slapping the invoice down on the counter, I pushed it towards him. “And tell Shelley she’s a couple months late on her payments.”

  This was the side of the business I hated. Demanding payment from negligent customers. Hatfield was a small town, and lots of local businesses ordered their fresh baked goods from me. Several tended to take a relaxed approach to on-time payments. Generally, I overlooked their lateness, but I was starting to fall behind on bills. I had to pull on my big girl panties and start insisting on more timely payments.

  Jackson nodded. “I’ll let her know, but she’s been in full-on bitch-mode since Sonny bought that new RV. They’re behind on several bills, so you’re probably pretty far down the list.”

  Nolan crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “That doesn’t sound fair. Your sister is upholding her end of the bargain. How can the owners expect her to wait just because they’ve been irresponsible with their money?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Uncle Sam might always have been on time with his payments, but he’s the exception to the rule.”

  Nolan shook his head. “That’s bullshit.” His face darkened, and I got the impression that his time back in Hatfield hadn’t exactly been a cakewalk so far.

  But that’s what I specialized in, cakewalks. So I was pretty much duty bound to help cheer him up. “It’s cool,” I said nonchalantly, taking the stool beside him and asking my brother to pour us both a round. “This isn’t the first storm between Shelley and Sonny that I’ve had to weather. At least I don’t have to work here and deal with it firsthand.”

  Jackson laughed. “Amen to that.” He placed our beers in front of us and I picked mine up and raised it high. “To not working at Sonny’s Tap.”

  Nolan frowned, and I realized the toast wasn’t going over well. Setting my glass back on the counter, I turned to Jackson for help. He shook his head, equally puzzled.

  Nolan let out a sigh and ran his hand through his thick hair, making me have to shove my hands in my pockets to fight the desire to do the same. Running my fingers through Nolan’s hair had been #3 on the list I’d made in 10th grade. The list I’d entitled “To-Do When Nolan Hendricks Is My Boyfriend.” The first thing on the list was kissing him, of course, and #2 was touching his chest. I’d say my list withstood the test of time, because it was just as valid today as it was ten years ago.

  “I was going to ask if you were hiring,” he said at last, and Jackson laughed so hard, he slapped the top of the bar. Then he caught my signal. Nolan wasn’t kidding.

  “Uh…sorry, man,” my brother said, picking up his towel and attacking the bar with a fervor I’d rarely seen. “Shelley hasn’t hired anyone since she hired her niece last year and caught Sonny watching her bending over to stock the shelves.”

  “This fucking town,” I heard Nolan grumble. “I knew this was a mistake.”

  I fought to hide my frown. I’d spent the last decade wondering what it would be like if Nolan came home, and in all of those fantasies, I’d never imagined him looking so defeated.

  I have to fix this.

  5

  Nolan

  “You’re looking for a job?” Molly asked in a casual tone.

  I nodded, staring at my glass so I didn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes. I didn’t exactly consider myself a success for coming back home empty-handed. “Just for a few weeks, maybe a month. Enough time to make some cash and move on.”

  “I think I have just the thing. Come work for me.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Work for you? No offense, but I don’t know anything about baking. Here I could stock, run kegs, or work the door. I doubt you need a bouncer at your bakery.”

  “You’re right,” she replied with a grin. “But I do need someone to stock. Bags of flour weigh fifty pounds and I go through 20 or more a week. The high schooler I hired to help me over the summer just headed off to college. I could use a hand, if you’re available.”

  My eyes narrowed and I stared at her, wondering if her offer was motivated by pity. “I’ll only be in town for a month or so,” I reminded her.

  She nodded. “Great. And just in time. Our school lunch orders are about to ramp up and I could use an extra hand to get us started. What do you say?”

  Although I still had my suspicions, I didn’t have the luxury of saying no. Beggars can’t be choosers was another one of my mom’s pearls of wisdom. I wondered why so many of them concerned beggars.

  I put out my hand for Molly to shake. “Deal.”

  She took my hand and shook it, causing sparks of electricity to zap my system. I wondered if she could feel it too. Was that a flicker of interest in her eyes?

  Before I could be certain, she released me and turned back to Jackson. “Since we’re celebrating, how about something a little stronger?”

  Jackson nodded and pulled out a bottle of cinnamon whisky. “This is just the thing.”

  I pursed my lips as I sniffed at the shot. Jackson laughed, revealing that it was my new boss’s favo
rite and a sure-fire way to get on her good side. I threw back the shot, suddenly desperate to get on Molly’s good side. Shit, I’ll take any side of her I can get.

  The whiskey burned its way down my throat. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. I turned to my new boss to say so but was struck dumb when I saw her lick her lips, her little pink tongue peeking out at me, sending a burst of heat through my insides.

  “Not bad,” I said, trying to cover up my desire for her. “Thanks for the job.”

  She nodded. “Don’t thank me yet. A bakery is a demanding mistress.”

  The corner of my lip quirked up as a thousand dirty thoughts tumbled through my mind. Molly hovering over me, demanding that I kiss her. Molly beneath me, demanding that I give her more…

  “Is that right?” I said with a cough, fighting the erection that was making my pants feel tight. Nolan, you need to get your mind out of the gutter. Too bad that was impossible while I was looking at the world’s sexiest woman.

  “Yeah,” she said, her pitch coming out too high. Her eyes met mine, and I realized they were filling with liquid warmth. She pulled her gaze away, breathing heavily, before responding again. “Bakers hours are the opposite of tavern hours. I get up in the wee hours when Jackson’s patrons are stumbling home.”

  I shrugged. “It won’t be much of a change from the service.”

  “Good.” Looking at the time, her face squished up in an adorable fashion. “I should head out.”

  Jackson laughed. “That wasn’t much of a celebration. One shot and you’re out the door.”

  She gave her brother a look that said ‘Fuck You,’ which just made him laugh harder.

  I realized that I wasn’t ready for the night to end. “Too bad. I was just getting a taste for this stuff. It’s like a Red Hot in liquid form.”

  “I know, right,” she said excitedly. Checking the clock again, she took a deep breath, then fixed me with a blinding smile. “One more can’t hurt.”

  Famous last words.

  6

  Molly

  I couldn’t remember how many shots of the fiery whiskey I’d consumed, but it was enough to feel like I’d been wrapped in warm cotton. Shooting a glance to the hottie on the barstool next to mine, I saw that he was in a similar state.

  “Molly Thompson,” he said, or slurred, as he put his arm around me. “If I’d have known you were gonna turn out this pretty, I would have taken you up on your offer to be my prom date.”

  Jackson let out a guffaw of laughter from behind the bar. “Now I know you’re drunk.”

  “Just tipsy,” he said with a grin. “But that doesn’t change the truth. Your sister is smoking hot.”

  My cheeks tinted with pink, and I blinked up at Nolan. Twin flames lit in his eyes, and he leaned closer to me. He’s going to kiss me! Nolan Frickin’ Hendricks is going to kiss me!!!

  Once again, my brother brought my hopes and dreams crashing to the ground. Grabbing Nolan’s shoulder, his face turned cloudy. “Okay, buddy, I think you’ve had enough.”

  Nolan shook his head. “Bullshit.”

  Coming around the bar, Jackson pulled Nolan off the barstool and away from me. “When you’re trying to make out with my sister—who is also your new boss, I might add—in front of me, I think you’ve had enough.”

  I hopped down off the stool and wobbled a little. “Jackson, so help me God, if you ruin this, I’ll tell Mom that it was you who burned down the shed when we were kids, and not a freak lightning strike.”

  Nolan started to laugh. I came a few steps closer. It suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world, to stake my claim on Nolan Hendricks here and now. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

  “Gorgeous,” he said, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

  “Knock it off, you guys,” Jackson said, stepping between us. “You’re both drunk.”

  Before I could respond, there was a crash of dishes breaking. This was followed by a string of curses. “Dammit, Sonny,” came Shelley’s voice. “We can’t afford to buy new plates if you bust them all, not since you sank all our money into that stupid fuckpalace-on-wheels.”

  “Shit,” Jackson growled. Looking from Nolan to me, he frowned. “You two sit tight,” he said. “I’ve got to go deal with this before they kill each other. Give me five minutes, then I’ll bring you both home.”

  Then his grip left my shoulder and he was heading behind the bar and through the door into the back of the house. I looked at Nolan, whose eyes were on me. His stare had weight, like a warm blanket, and I knew this was my chance.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” I asked. “The bakery is just down the street. We can walk there, and I’ll show you around your new place of employment.”

  “Sure,” he said, a wolfish smile on his face. “Lead the way.”

  The night was warm, summer not yet having given way to fall. It was about a mile to the bakery, along the main street. A minivan rolled by and Nolan guided me to stand beside him, his body between me and the road. Then he slipped my arm through his.

  “You know, when I got back to Hatfield, I thought everything was exactly the same as when I left it. But I was wrong.”

  I looked up at him, his eyes seeming to shine silver in the moonlight. “What’s different?”

  “You’re different,” he said, looking me over from head to toe and setting my skin on fire. “You know, I always knew you had a thing for me when we were kids, but you were so much younger then.”

  “Only three years younger,” I grumbled.

  Nolan laughed, his smile making my chest ache. “Yeah, but that was a huge gap back in high school. Now…not so much.”

  I quickened my steps, making for the bakery as fast as my tipsy legs would carry me. Soon I was unlocking the door, then typing in the code for the alarm. Flipping on the lights, I started to show Nolan around.

  “This is the front of the house. Most of our orders are bulk, from local businesses, but we do a brisk trade in pastries and cakes on the weekend.” Pushing through the double doors that led to the back, I turned on another bank of lights.

  Leaning up against one of the clean steel tables, I lifted my arms as if to show him my kingdom. “And this is where the magic happens.”

  Nolan moved closer. “Magic sounds about right. You’re definitely magical.”

  I held my breath, not wanting whatever spell had been cast over us this night to end. “And I thought you were the magical one. At least that’s what I would write in my diary: ‘Nolan Hendricks must have magical kisses.’”

  He looked at me, and I wondered if I’d revealed too much. Mentally kicking myself for reminding him about the young dork I’d once been, I tried desperately to think of something to say.

  “Want to test your theory?” he said before I could recover. Nolan moved closer, putting his hands on the table on either side of my hips.

  “My… my theory?” I couldn’t think with him this close. He smelled like some sort of musk or wood, and I was instantly addicted.

  “That my kisses are magical?” He looked down at me, poised a few inches from my lips. I couldn’t stop looking at his mouth, it was like I was hypnotized. “Yes, please.”

  His crooked smile lit up his face as he closed the distance between us. Then his lips were pressed against mine and I realized what heaven felt like. My hands found their way to his chest, where I could feel his heart pounding. He was as affected as I was.

  A rush of power filled me as I realized Nolan Hendricks wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I kissed him back, opening to his questing tongue, a rush of moisture at my core when I heard him groan.

  His hands fastened themselves to my hips and he pulled me closer. I could feel his hardness throbbing against me, and I knew then that I wanted everything from him. There was no stopping, no slowing down.

  When I broke the kiss, Nolan let out a disappointed sound, but his eyes widened when I took the opportunity to pull off my blouse. He leaned in, kissing my neck, then licking down my throat.
One of his rough hands found my breast and started to knead it, and my head fell back as I surrendered to the ecstasy.

  “I want you, Molly,” he growled against my skin.

  “Yes,” I moaned, reaching back to unfasten my bra. His quick intake of breath as I bared my breasts gave me tingles. I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it upwards. Exposing a chest that would make an action hero jealous, I ran my fingers down his muscles to brush through the trail of hair I’d fantasized about for a decade.

  “Careful,” he whispered into my ear. “If you go any lower, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to last. And I’ve got plans for you, Molly.”

  “Plans?” I asked, licking my lips and enjoying the hunger the action made appear in his eyes.

  “Yes, plans.” Picking me up, he settled me on the table. He unfastened my jeans, then tugged them downwards, exposing my white lace panties. “First things first, I need to taste you.”

  He bent down, grabbing my hips and pulling them forward before kissing his way up my legs. My muscles were shaking as he crept closer to my feminine core.

  Nolan gave me a long, slow lick through my panties, and I clutched his head, running my fingers through his hair. I realized then that I’d fulfilled numbers 1 through 3 on my Nolan To-Do List. Then I chided my younger self for being so naïve.

  This, this should have been at the top of the list, I thought as I felt Nolan pull aside my panties and press a kiss against me there.

  When he licked me in earnest, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back for long. Nolan Hendricks was tasting me, and it was divine.

  7

  Nolan

  Nothing had ever tasted as good as Molly Thompson tasted. I was mindless, seeking more and more of her sweet essence. I felt her clutch me, felt her muscles begin to shake. Molly let out a cry of passion and tumbled into her climax as I licked every inch of her beautiful pussy.

 

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