Falling for You

by Travis, Stacy

  “Well, now you’re just being crass.”

  “Please, after a year together, do me the courtesy of at least being honest. I don’t care that you did it—well, I do—but I need to know what I’m up against. Is the plan to go into every market where I am until they run me out of town? Take every restaurant contract?”

  He let out a deep exhale. His eyes looked vacant. It was odd for him not to have the focused determination to slay the world. “They’re not interested in that. The restaurant stuff was designed to rattle you. They just want the locations.”

  “Fine. I can deal with that. It’s fine,” I said. It was business, and Centinela Bread could offer more money per square foot than I could. In a market economy, that made them the winner. I didn’t need Finn’s economic brilliance to understand that. I just needed to know I wasn’t under attack personally.

  I also needed him to say the words, admit what he’d done.

  “And so we’re perfectly clear, you gave them my business plan, helped them to destroy everything I wanted to do.”

  “Technically, yes, I did use what I knew about your business to feed Centinela some information about how to break into the Bay Area market.”

  “And right after our breakup…that’s when they came out in full force, calling all my clients, going after my locations. Was that just you twisting the knife after the pictures of you and what’s-her-name came out?”

  “Giselle.”

  “I don’t give a shit what her name is! Jesus, Tom!” I was mad at myself for letting him rile me, but he was so frustrating.

  He stood there in his pinstriped sport coat and expensive jeans and Ferragamo loafers, which I’d always hated. He crossed his arms and stared at me like I wasn’t worth a response. Finally, ever so slightly, he nodded. “I was trying to get your attention.”

  “You can’t be serious.” I dated him for over a year and didn’t know the man at all. “How are you that spiteful?”

  “I’m completely serious. It’s not spite, it’s affection. I want you back. I can call off the dogs anytime. That’s why I kept leaving you messages. I just wanted you to see me again.”

  I’d had enough. “Could you leave now?” I asked, pointing to the door.

  “You’re going to let Centinela shut you down? You don’t want my help?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  He shook his head, scowling at me. Not a hair was out of place, not a wrinkle in his starched white shirt. He ate people for sport all day long.

  Nodding, he looked at me knowingly, as though he had one more bullet in his gun. “Heard you’re seeing Owen Miller,” he said, apropos of nothing.

  I had no idea where he got his information, but Tom was nothing if not thorough. He did his due diligence, so if he wanted to know how I was spending my time, he’d find out.

  “Not anymore. Not that it’s any of your business.” I hated having to put my time with Owen in the past, but I might as well own it.

  He nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Hmph.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I hated how Tom dangled information like bait. Everything was a manipulation. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t care.”

  Nothing bothered Tom more than people who were indifferent to his wiles, but that wasn’t why I was shutting him down. I really didn’t care what he had to say.

  Unfortunately, that only fueled his desire to tell me. “Just thinking that he must still be pretty pissed at me.”

  I knew he was baiting me. “I know you tried to do business with him and he turned you down. That’s not news to me.”

  Now he smiled like a shark, savoring the sight of a minnow who was cornered. Tom waited a few moments for effect, nodding with that smug victorious expression. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

  Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “Just say what you’re going to say. Obviously, you’re enjoying this. Just get on with it. What don’t I know?”

  Tom could not have looked more satisfied. “I broke up his relationship back then. His girlfriend left him for me.”

  I couldn’t help the shock that must have shown on my face. Tom looked satisfied, but I didn’t care about him. Was this true?

  “You’re lying.” He had to be. It was just another manipulation.

  “Not at all. Why would I?”

  True, he had no reason to lie.

  Messing with someone’s heart was a whole other level of cruel than playing business hardball. My heart broke for Owen, knowing that Tom had stooped to ruining his relationship.

  No wonder he’d been so freaked about the text that said I was making plans to meet Tom. And I’d only confirmed his concerns by saying that Tom could offer me something, that it would be easier. Oh my God. How did I not see it?

  He was a guy who didn’t stay friends with his exes. Once they were done, he was done.

  “Yeah. See? Don’t ever underestimate me, Isla. I’ll have Centinela be sure to sign the contracts for their new locations in the morning.” If he’d been a wolf, this would have been the moment he bared his teeth to show me he’d always be the alpha dog.

  Instead, he put his hands out. A concession. “It could have gone differently, you know. I told you I wanted you back.”

  He had. At the time, I hadn’t known what I was up against. But now that I did, I just felt exhausted.

  As long as I could hang onto my one original location and continue doing what I did well, I’d persevere. I’d find other places to expand. Tom would find some other pet project where he could unleash his wrath, and eventually, he’d leave me alone.

  Tom took a step closer to me, his face still a maze of undecided feelings. “I’m . . . I regret that I took advantage of our relationship. I’d assumed we’d be together, and I could make it up to you. Anyway, it’s . . . regrettable.”

  “You can’t even say the words, can you?” It amused me that he was having such a difficult time trying to be a better man than he was. “It’s good, actually. I’d hate to hear you apologize if you didn’t really mean it. Better to say nothing.”

  “I am sorry. I’ve never doubted you, Isla. As I said, I regret that things didn’t work out for us, but I know you’ll land on your feet. You always do.”

  He was right. I did always land on my feet, despite guys like him.

  So I didn’t yell at him and I didn’t smack his face, though in hindsight, I found it…regrettable. I opened the back door for him and silently stood there while he looked me up and down. After the standoff, he shook his head and walked out.

  Then I went over to the pastry area where Camille kept a bottle of absinthe and grabbed one of the glass tumblers from the café.

  I poured myself a healthy dose of what tasted like death and forced it down. Liquid courage. I’d need it because I was about to hand over my heart.

  I hoped I wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 35

  Isla

  I was running a risk when I knocked on Owen’s door. He could fling the door open wearing only boxers, and I could catch a glimpse of the woman with the cool glasses and the mini skirt I’d seen him with outside the pizza place.

  Or worse, I could hear them having sex from the other side of the door.

  There were other possibilities, like Owen answering and standing there expressionless with his arms crossed, waiting for me to say what I’d come to say. I couldn’t decide what was worse—seeing him with someone else or seeing him angry and indifferent to me.

  It didn’t matter.

  I’d say what I needed to tell him and leave before I started sobbing. There was no question I was going to cry if he was as hard and unfriendly as he’d been the last time I’d seen him. I’d cried for a week after that.

  I heard noise on the other side of the door and saw a brush of light cross the peephole. He saw it was me. Would he actually open the door?

  Taking a step back for a hasty retreat, I was sort of surprised when the door whipped open. Owen stood there in a San Francisco Giants swea
tshirt and gym shorts.

  He didn’t look angry or indifferent. He looked…like a guy I needed in my life and not just as a friend.

  “I love you,” I blurted. It wasn’t how I planned to open, but that was beside the point.

  It was the most important piece of information I had, and he needed to know.

  He looked momentarily surprised, either at the admission or at my timing. “You do.” He wasn’t asking me, and I loved hearing that familiar voice telling me what we both already knew to be true.

  I nodded. “I do. So no matter what happens from this moment forward, I just want to make sure you know. There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to be with you—not as a friend or a friend with benefits or any of my other ridiculous titles. I want to be with you because you’re the person I love.”

  He tilted his head, and his eyes roamed over me from head to toe, ending by locking on mine. That comforting blue. I’d missed it so much.

  “Nice shirt,” he said. I looked down at the T-shirt he’d bought me in Healdsburg with the lettering that spelled out, ‘you had me at merlot.’

  “Someone I like a lot gave it to me.”

  It got me the barest inkling of a smile.

  He looked like shit, like he hadn’t shaved in a week, and I could see from his wrinkled sweatshirt and messy hair that he’d probably given up on looking in the mirror. And I wanted him more than ever. I still didn’t know if I’d get him back, but I had to try.

  I couldn’t look away from his eyes, which pinned me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I had no idea what it meant.

  “Owen . . .”

  He didn’t answer. Just watched me warily. I knew I was the one who needed to explain. So to start, I proffered my loaf of bread. “In case you still like this stuff.”

  He took it. “Thanks. I do still like it. I also like the woman who bakes it. Even more than the bread, actually.”

  I took a deep breath, then let it out and said what I came to say. “Owen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt that night at my house. I did love you then, but you caught me off-guard, and I was confused about Tom and—”

  “I really don’t want to talk about Tom.” Saying his name seemed to visibly distress him. I put up a hand.

  “This has nothing to do with him or anyone else. I wasn’t fair to you and I apologize for not giving us real chance.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Did you want to? When we were spending time together? Did you want it to be something real?”

  I nodded. I almost couldn’t bear to look at him out of fear I’d need to blink and he’d be gone.

  I’d missed seeing him so much it hurt.

  “It never occurred to me that I could fall in love with someone on the same day as a breakup. But that was me and my titles again, which was unfair to you. I hate that I kept pushing you away. Loving you was never really up for negotiation—it just took over. And I get that it’s been a month, and you’ve probably moved on, but at least now you know. Not that it changes anything.”

  I wasn’t sure if there was any hope for a future, but I felt better letting him know how I felt—that he was wanted and valued.

  “What do you mean? It changes everything,” he said quietly, his expression softening.

  I didn’t see how. But then, I’d proven in the past that I could be a little dense about these things.

  “Do you want to come in?” he asked, moving out of the doorway to make room for me to walk past him. I still felt like I ought to look out for girlfriends lurking in the corners but there was no one visible.

  Just us.

  Owen closed the door and walked over to where I stood in the middle of his living room.

  I couldn’t speak. My brain had gone AWOL. I couldn’t articulate a single word to express my feelings when I saw what was hanging on the rolling white boards—three of them now—in his living room.

  They were architectural renderings, in color, of bakery cafés with my logo painted on a shingle over the main doors.

  There were bread kitchens and outdoor terraces. I looked closer and saw sustainable gardens detailed with a key identifying the different plants.

  In all, there were six drawings attached to the whiteboards that took up most of the empty space in the room.

  When I turned around to look at Owen, my eyes still round with disbelief, his gaze burned into me with the loving heat I’d missed every day for the past month. “Are these . . .?” I couldn’t even ask the question, so dumbstruck by the idea that he’d done this for me.

  Hands in his pockets, Owen took a step closer to me, tentatively, as though I was an untamed animal he might spook. He nodded. “Designs for six locations.”

  I shook my head, still in disbelief. Then I looked closer at the words at the top of each drawing and noticed something about the locations—Healdsburg, Calistoga, Bodega Bay, Sausalito . . .

  “These are all places where you have hotels,” I said, finally starting to understand. “You want me to expand Victorine in those locations?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck as though he was reconsidering his plan for all of this. “It’s not my decision. It was just a thought. Victorine could be adjacent to the hotels, supplying the restaurants, which are all gunning for their Michelin stars, and catering to the locals as well. The hotel properties are large. There’s space for both.”

  I had a momentary bout of self-doubt and worried he was only doing this because he felt sorry for me. But before I could articulate that, he was shaking his head. “No, this is not a pity offer. I come out the winner here, trust me, and so do the hotel guests.”

  “I can’t . . . believe this. I . . . don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes.”

  I’d spent so long making things complicated between the two of us, and the truth was that everything I wanted could be boiled down to that one word—yes.

  Also giddy, excited, and overwhelmed.

  “Yes.” And because I couldn’t stand to go one second more without touching him, I flew at him.

  Luckily, he caught me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry for letting you walk away. I’ve regretted it every day since then and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. But when you didn’t respond to my texts, I gave up hope a little bit.”

  He shook his head and cringed a little bit. “You texted me?”

  “Um, yeah. I said I loved you, but you didn’t respond. Obviously.” Why was I telling him what he already knew?

  “The night I left your house, I gave Raf my phone. For a month.” He pulled a company phone out of his pocket and looked at the date. “I’ve got three days left with this one.”

  That made no sense. Who gives away their phone?

  “Why?”

  “I dunno. Raf had this theory that life is long, or some shit he told me when I was broken up over you and blitzed on tequila. I think he just believed we’d work things out, and he didn’t want me deleting all evidence of you, which was my plan at the time. There are some really nice pictures from that wine cave in Sonoma.” He smiled, and I recalled every one of those picture-perfect spots.

  “Smart man. We oughtta get him a hooker as a gift.”

  His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What?!”

  “Kidding. Sorry.” I pushed my hands up into his hair and tipped my forehead to his.

  “Listen, I know people have let you down. I know people have loved you and left, but that’s not me. That will never be me. I love you and I will always love you, but it can’t be from a distance. And it can’t be as just a friend.”

  “You’ll never be just a friend to me.”

  “Good, because this is the forever kind of love.”

  “Are you saying you’ll be my forever girl? I can already picture that on a T-shirt.”

  I smirked. “That sounds suspiciously like a title. And . . . yes I will. Hard yes.” I kissed him, sinking into his lips like I was home.

  When
we broke the kiss, I looked over his shoulder at the drawings. They were really beautiful, and I could envision exactly how each new space would look. “Are you sure these will work with your hotels?”

  “Isla, I’ve never been so sure about anything. But it’s not just because you’re a talented baker. I know you’ll raise the standard at each of these properties just by being there. I’m sure because it’s you. Because I love you and I want you there, everywhere. Anyplace I go, I want you to be with me. I just do.”

  “I want that too.”

  His smile grew and it reminded me of the Grinch’s heart swelling until it burst from his chest. Owen’s smile almost outgrew his face.

  He’d been holding me up all this time, so I released my legs from around his waist and slid to the floor in front of him. Owen reached for my hand and pulled me closer until there was no separation between us.

  If I had my way, there never would be again.

  Epilogue

  Owen

  Five Months Later

  It was a perfect Saturday morning. The early haze had burned off and given way to a pastel blue sky and a subtle breeze coming off the bay.

  I was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Isla.

  Okay, truth—I wasn’t crazy about what she had planned. In my defense, I was under duress when I’d agreed… after sharing a bottle of wine with Isla at dinner, worshipping her body for a solid three hours afterward, and sleeping for two.

  No man should be expected to be of right mind to make a decision after that.

  “Of course, sounds great,” I’d muttered in a semi-conscious state. At least, I think that’s what I said.

  My brain was still drugged with sleep because it was three in the goddamn morning, which was still the middle of the night as far as I was concerned. Always would be. But she was awake, showered, and inexplicably perky, ready to head to the bakery and get the first run of bread into the oven while I dove back into a dream about us naked in the shower.