by E. L. Todd
“Why is he here?”
“I asked for his help.”
His help with what?
“What’s up, man?” Axel fist-bumped him before he let him inside. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“No problem.” Hawke walked into the living room with his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Marie.”
“Hey.” Despite the sweet things he did I would never truly look at him the same way. He hurt Francesca a lot when he dropped her like a hat. As her best friend it was impossible for me to forget the destruction he left behind.
“Glad you two are back together.” He sat on the other couch and unbuttoned the front of his jacket.
“Thanks. Me too.”
Axel jumped over the couch and landed on the cushion beside me.
“What’s going on with the business?” Hawke asked.
What business?
“We found a supplier, employees, the name, and almost everything else,” Axel explained. “But we’re missing one crucial point.”
Why was Axel telling Hawke about Francesca’s bakery? Like he was a part of it?
“What is it?” Hawke asked.
“Marketing,” Axel said. “None of us have any idea what to do. If this were a small town just being open would be enough. But in a big city like this we need to do something. I was hoping you had some insight or connection that could help us.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’m confused here. Why is Hawke participating in this? Last time I checked this was Francesca’s business and she doesn’t need his help to get the place off the ground.” She was doing just fine without him and didn’t need him to intervene now.
Hawke remained collected. “Marie, I just want to help.”
“She doesn’t need your help. She’s got us.” Hawke hadn’t done anything to me personally, and he did attempt to put Axel and I back together—twice. But I was still loyal to my friend.
“Baby.” Axel moved his hand to my thigh. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay,” I snapped. “Francesca can handle her own. She doesn’t need anyone to do anything for her. So take your connections somewhere else. She doesn’t need your pity.”
Hawke shook his head slightly. “I definitely don’t pity her.”
“Baby, just let it go.” Axel lowered his voice even though Hawke could still hear everything. “Trust me on this.”
“Trust you on what?” I countered. “Hawke has no business being a part of this. I’m her best friend and you’re her brother, who got the loan for her. What has Hawke done? Not a damn thing. So why is he here?”
Axel sighed before he turned to Hawke, silently communicating with him.
All Hawke did was shake his head.
What was I missing here?
“What does it matter?” Axel asked. “If there’s anything else we can do to help Francesca we should do it.”
“I can assure you she wouldn’t want Hawke’s help.” She was over him, at least for the most part, and I knew she wouldn’t want him to be involved in this.
“He didn’t ask me,” Hawke said. “I volunteered.”
“It’s one thing to check on her and make sure she’s okay, but this is different,” I argued. “It’s just like what I said before. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t not be with her but still be involved in her life, especially without her knowledge.”
“Would it be better if I made my presence known?” Hawke didn’t say it coldly, but his underlying irritation was bubbling. “That I was constantly there, inhibiting her from moving on with her life? Or is it better that I lurk in the shadows so she never thinks about me?”
When he put it like that I didn’t have an argument.
“All I want is for Francesca to succeed,” Hawke said. “I have no other motive. She doesn’t need to know I was involved. No one gets hurt.”
“I still feel like I’m betraying her.” I was more loyal to Francesca than anyone else in my life.
“You aren’t,” Axel said. “You know I’m protective of Francesca too. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was okay.”
Hawke watched me, waiting for me to get on board.
Since they both made a compelling argument and I was going to lose no matter what, I agred. “Fine.”
Axel rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous. “Okay. What do you think we should do?”
“I have a friend at The New York Times,” Hawke said. “I think I can get her to write an article for me. But she’ll need to try the food and pastries herself, otherwise she won’t have anything to write about.”
How did he have connections like this? “How are you going to get a writer for the New York Times to write about an significant bakery in Manhattan?”
Hawke wouldn’t meet my gaze. He pulled out his phone and searched his contacts. “Which means you’ll have to arrange something, Axel. I’ll ask her to keep my name out of and pretend you’re familiar with each other.”
“I can do that,” Axel said.
“I’m guessing Francesca can make everything in the apartment,” Hawke said. “So she doesn’t need the bakery.”
“I’m sure that’s fine,” Axel said.
“Great,” Hawke said. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Is there anything else you can think of?” Axel asked.
“I know a guy who runs Sprinkles,” Hawke said. “I can ask him to cross promote with her. He’s been my client for the past year and we have a good relationship. If I cut out one of my fees he’ll probably do it.”
“That sounds perfect.” Getting the attention of regulars from another bakery was golden. If she had that and the article, she would be a success—guaranteed. “Looks like everything should work out.”
“It will,” Hawke said. “I’ll use her muffins, pastries, and coffee at my meetings with clients. When they ask about the food, which they will, I’ll hand out her business card.”
I was beginning to understand how vital Hawke was. Since he worked with different kinds of people, mainly wealthy ones, all over New York he knew all the right people. Now I felt a little guilty for telling him off earlier.
“Excellent,” Axel said as he rubbed his hands together. “It looks like we have the perfect plan underway. That shop is going to be the biggest bakery in the city.”
Hawke chuckled. “More like in the country.”
***
When the alarm went off Axel tightened his arm around my waist and sprinkled kisses up and down my arm. He kissed my neck then the groove along my spine. He woke me up quietly, his lips more soothing than the irritating sound of the alarm.
“I hate working.” I used to be excited to go to Prada every single day. But now when I had to get up in the morning I could hardly get out of bed. I had a gorgeous man to share my bed so I had even less of a reason to get up.
“Quit.” He pressed his lips to my hairline.
“I need food.” I kept my eyes closed because I was still too tired to open them.
“I can feed you.”
“I need clothes…shoes. God, I need shoes.”
He chuckled into my ear. “I can buy all those things for you.”
“No…” I finally opened my eyes and sat up. “I like buying them myself. I just don’t like working for them.”
“Well…you could work for me.” He pulled me against his chest and kissed my chest. “Cook and clean for me. Take care of me. And I’ll pay you for all the hard work you do.”
“Sounds like a housewife gig.”
“It is. And I have an open position.”
I rolled my eyes and got out of bed. “Nah.”
He continued to lay in bed, the sheets bunched around his waist. His hard chest and chiseled arms were inviting, silently calling me back to bed. “Come on. I think you’d be a great housewife.”
“Ugh. I’d be terrible at it.”
“How so? You already cook and clean for me anyway.”
I walked to the sink and grabbed my toothbrush. “Now I�
��m starting to think you aren’t joking.”
“Who said I was?” He watched my expression in the mirror.
It was hard to believe there was a time when he couldn’t tell me he loved me. Now he told me every night before bed. And he showed it every second of the day. “I’m getting into the shower.”
“Can I join you?”
“Nope.” I walked into the bathroom and got the shower running. The warm water fell on me, waking me up.
Axel joined me a moment later. He grabbed a bar of soap and began to rub me down, lathering the soap into my skin. He massaged my body, making me fall asleep even though I was trying to wake up.
“I never pictured you as the clingy type.”
“Clingy?” he asked. “I’m not clingy.”
“I don’t think you understand the definition.”
“I’m just a man in love with a woman.” He turned me around then picked me up, holding me in the shower. “Is that really a bad thing?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I was hoping you would say that.” He held me up by my ass and kissed me slowly, the water running down our bodies. The soap was washed away and the time passed. Both of us were going to be late to work but neither one of us seemed to care.
***
“I can’t believe this.” Francesca sat inside the bakery with her pasties placed in airtight containers. “I made four different batches of everything just to make sure it was absolutely perfect.”
“It will be perfect.” The bakery was nearly completed. All the counters and kitchens had been built but now they were missing the tile in the rear. The grand opening was just in two weeks and time was running down.
“What if she doesn’t like them?” Francesca asked.
“She will,” I said. “Name one person who’s tried your stuff and didn’t like it.”
“Well, if they didn’t like it they wouldn’t tell me,” she argued.
“I would,” I said honestly.
“Me too,” Axel added.
Francesca kept eyeing the window, waiting for the reporter to arrive. “Axel, how the hell did you arrange this? How do you know her?”
He shrugged. “I meet a lot of people through work.”
“But that would mean you just met her,” she said. “How did you get her to do this favor for you?”
I felt bad for Axel. He was being put right on the spot.
“What can I say?” he said casually. “I’m charming.”
Francesca dropped the subject so she must have believed him.
A woman walked up to the door, wearing a skintight dress with a pink blouse. Her hair was in big curls that trailed down her chest. She was the definition of a bombshell. She had the perfect body, the perfect legs—the perfect everything. Now it became abundantly clear how Hawke knew her. And I was sick just thinking about it.
She took a look around before she approached our table.
“Frankie, you got this,” I whispered. “Be confident.”
She strode to our table like she owned the place. “You must be Francesca.” She extended her hand.
“Yes—The Muffin Girl.” Francesca put on a nice smile and didn’t seem nervous at all. “Thanks for meeting me today.”
“No problem,” she said in a husky voice. “I’m Amy and I’ve heard nothing but good things.” She turned to Axel, narrowing her eyes.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he said proactively as he shook her hand. “Thanks for coming down.”
“Of course,” she said. “It’s always nice to see you, Axel.”
Axel wrapped his arm around me. “This is my girlfriend. I love her.”
Francesca tried not to laugh.
I couldn’t hold mine back. “But people call me Marie.” I shook her hand. “I think you’ll be impressed by everything Francesca has created.”
“I’m sure I will.” She took a seat and effortlessly flipped her hair over one shoulder.
Axel kept his arm around me, practically squeezing me.
Francesca poured the cup of coffee. “How do you take it?”
“Black is fine,” Amy answered.
Francesca handed her the cup then opened her Tupperware. One by one, she explained each pastry, detailing the ingredients and the process of making it.
Amy took a bite of each pastry, and judging her expression she seemed genuinely surprised with each bite. She savored every piece then sipped her coffee. “Honestly, I’m impressed.”
Francesca’s face lit up. “I’ve been baking my entire life. I didn’t think my dream of owning a bakery would ever come true—until now.”
“With a product like this I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She grabbed her notepad and made a few notes.
“Would you like a tour?” Francesca asked. “It’s not completely done but the essentials are in place.”
“I’d love to,” Amy said. “I can ask you some questions along the way.”
Francesca took Amy behind the counters and showed her where everything would be placed. Then she guided her to the back of the bakery and showed her the various kitchens and wedding cake station.
Axel relaxed when Amy was gone.
“You can chill out now.”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“It’s okay if you think she’s hot.”
“But I don’t think she’s hot.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What? I don’t.”
“Then why are you all over me?” I asked.
“I just don’t want you to think that I think she’s hot.”
I gave him a blank stare.
“I know she’s pretty and I didn’t want you to think I was into her.”
“But you do think she’s hot if you noticed she was hot.”
“And I didn’t want her to hit on me. I saw the way she looked at me when she first walked in here.”
This conversation was stupid so I let it drop. “Whatever.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You sound guilty. I don’t care if you check out other women. I check out other guys.”
“But I don’t check out—” His mouth suddenly shut. “What? You check out other guys?”
“Sometimes,” I said with a shrug.
“I don’t look at other women.”
“Sure…”
“Marie, I’m not lying.” He grew defensive and even a little angry. “Look, I’ll tell you how it is every time. And I’m telling you, I don’t do that.”
That part was true. He never lied and he had no reason to start now. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Now you need to stop checking out other dudes. Your eyes are for me only.”
I never thought I’d find clinginess to be attractive, but it looked good on him. “Okay. I’ll stop.”
“I mean it,” he said. “No eye candy for you.”
I rolled my eyes because he was being ridiculous.
Amy and Francesca returned a few moments later.
“I know I haven’t written the article yet, but rest assured it will be a good one.” Amy shook her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Muffin Girl.”
“Thank you so much.” Francesca opened the door for her.
“And you can count on me as a customer.” Amy winked before she walked out.
Francesca shut the door then came back to us. “That went well.”
“I told you that you would rock it,” I said, not bothering to hide my triumph.
“She said she liked the food and thinks the bakery is cute,” Francesca said. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“Just don’t hire any hot guys,” Axel said darkly. “Since Marie likes to check them out.”
Francesca returned to the chair and boxed up her things. “Did you tell him about Hawke?”
I had no idea what she was talking about so I gave her a blank stare.
Axel narrowed his eyes on her. “Sorry?”
“About how Marie had the hotts for him before he and I met
. He would come into The Grind a few times a week and Marie—”
“Stop. Talking. Now.” Of all the things I expected her to say, that was not it. Since that had never popped up I thought it was buried in the past. Apparently, it wasn’t.
Axel’s expression didn’t change, but there was a storm brewing underneath. Since he didn’t like it when I checked out strangers, he certainly wouldn’t like it when I checked out his best friend. “Hawke…”
Francesca didn’t realize the devastating blow she just made. “Yeah. She called dibs on him before he and I started talking.”
I gave her a venomous glare. “Frankie, shut the hell up.”
“What?” she asked innocently. “What’s the big deal? It was a long time ago.”
He rubbed the back of his neck before he gripped his temple. “Let me get this straight…you wanted Hawke first?”
“Not first,” I argued. “He used to come into The Grind and I thought he was cute. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“But you wanted to ask him out.” Axel wouldn’t even look at me. His head was about to explode.
Francesca finally caught on. “You can’t actually be mad about that, Axel. It was a long time ago, and it was before you and Marie even saw each other.”
“Stay out of this,” he snapped.
Francesca knew she needed to give both of us space. She gathered her things and left the shop, leaving the keys behind so we could lock up whenever we were done, not that there was a reason to lock up. There was nothing to steal.
Now that we were alone Axel blew up. “So you wanted him? He was the one you originally wanted but couldn’t have?”
“You’re blowing this out of proportion. I never asked him out and he never asked me out. So there was never a time when I couldn’t have him. When Francesca started dating him I didn’t care in the least.”
He left the chair then started pacing in silence.
Could he seriously be mad about this?
“You wanted my best friend, not me.”
“Axel, you weren’t even in the picture at this point. I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter.” I understood why he was uncomfortable but he was blowing it out of proportion and I didn’t like that one bit. “I’m sure you’ve checked out one of my friends and thought they were cute.”