by Kyle Autumn
I lift my head to see who’s holding me, and when our eyes lock, my heart flutters like I’m nineteen instead of twenty-nine. But that’s ridiculous because my heart doesn’t flutter. It hasn’t since—
“Are you okay?” he asks after several moments.
It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour. I could stare at him forever, honestly. And that’s not because I’m feeling indecisive and can’t look away. I most certainly can. But I don’t want to.
Younger melted-chocolate eyes stare back at me, seemingly just as entranced as I am with him. These eyes look more my age, more like who I should be lusting after. More like the son of a man too old for me. More like Dani’s older brother, given the fact that he’s in their driveway, looking so much like his father.
So I nod to let him know that I am, indeed, okay. Even if I’m probably not.
“Good.” He tucks some of my hair behind my ear and cups my chin, smiling down at me. “I don’t think you were before, so I’m glad you are now.”
I shake my head to let him know that I was not, indeed, okay before. Because I was not okay. And none of this is okay. Reality slaps me in the face as I remember my past and why this cannot be my present.
Instead of falling into this moment, I rush away from this house for the second time. It’s probably a nail in my coffin, ending anything before it could even start. But it’s not like it should. I have my past, for one. And, two, I just agreed to hire his sister.
His sister, who thoroughly enjoyed the muffins I baked just for her. Before, that made sense. Now, nothing makes sense. Absolutely nothing. So baking can go to hell if it thought to lead me there. Into the arms of another man.
And so can my fluttery heart.
∞∞∞
Jeremy
What the fuck just happened? A beautiful woman sped off my porch and right into my arms—and then ran the hell away from me? I didn’t realize how repulsive I was. I clearly haven’t been in the past. Yet this woman—who smelled like paradise—seems to think so.
Though perhaps something more was happening. She was already upset when she smacked into me. And all I want to do is follow her to make that sadness go away. But my phone rings and breaks me out of the bubble we were just in.
“I just got home,” I tell my brother through the phone as I watch my sexy, smoking-hot, and strangely sad neighbor dash into her house. “You already have news?”
“I do,” he tells me. “George thinks you’re perfect for the job. He’ll call you later today to offer you the position, but I wanted to give you the heads-up.”
I fist-pump the air. “Yes!”
“I know it’s not what you want to do forever,” he says.
“Probably not,” I answer, being honest with him, “so I’ll put some résumés out for other stuff, but for now, it’ll help a lot. New house and all.”
“Right, yeah. That’s good,” he replies as I approach the porch.
My parents and Dani are in the doorway, and Dani gives me a what’s so exciting? look. I hold my pointer finger up while I pass them and head to the kitchen. After interviewing for an hour and missing breakfast, I’m starving.
“That’s awesome. Thanks for your help.” I open the fridge. “I’ll keep my phone by me and wait for George’s call.”
“Sounds good. Congratulations.”
With a smile on my face, I start whistling as I end the call. My parents walk into the kitchen, and Dani follows them in. When my mom sets a box on the counter, I go to check it out.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Tell us why you’re so happy,” Dani says, snatching the box off the counter, “and I’ll think about sharing these with you.”
“Technically,” my dad says as he takes the box from Dani’s hands, “they’re for Jeremy.” He hands the box to me.
I open it and peek inside. Muffins? And chocolate chips? Damn, those’ll hit the spot.
“And technically,” Dani interjects, stealing a muffin from the box, “I’ll be moving here too, so I should get half.”
“You’re moving to this town, not specifically this house,” I remind her.
My mom puts a hand on her hip and addresses Dani. “And, technically, you’re going to be working with her, so I think you’ll have plenty of chances to eat more.” But then she reaches inside the box and steals one too.
“Hey now, they’re for me.” I pull the box out of their reach. Then I peek over to my father. “Wait. Why are they for me?”
He leans a hip on the counter by the sink. “Your new neighbor stopped by. She baked these as a welcome-to-the-neighborhood present. Check the top of the box.”
When I look at the top of the lid, a business card with Giana’s Bakery catches my eye. The place sounds familiar from when I used to live here, but I can’t remember ever stepping foot inside.
“Giana’s her name?” I ask. She didn’t look like a Giana, but I could see it fitting her.
Dani shakes her head. “No, it’s Amelia. And guess what?” She widens her eyes and raises her eyebrows.
Before I have a chance to guess like she asked me to, she fills me in, excitement written all over her.
“She offered me a job! I get to stay here with you and Matt for the summer!” She hops a couple of times and claps her hands, grinning from ear to ear at me.
“And guess what?” I tell her, matching her excitement, which she’s none too pleased about.
She socks me on the shoulder. “Don’t tease me.” Then she starts to walk away.
So I stick my arm out and catch her hand before she gets too far away. “I’m not. I’m serious. I got a job today too.”
“You did?” everyone says all at once.
I squint at them one at a time. “Why is that so shocking?”
They all look at each other before my mom speaks up.
“We thought it might take a little longer. That’s all.” She leans against the counter and folds her arms over her chest.
“Why would it take me a long time to get a job? I’m employable,” I explain, taking a muffin from the box. “I have a college degree and learn fast.” Then I take a bite, and holy wow. It’s a fucking amazing muffin. “Dude. Bring more of these home whenever you can,” I tell my sister.
“She’s going to teach me how to make them, she said.” Dani tries to take another, but I swing the box away from her reach.
“Hell no,” I say around a mouthful of muffin. “You’ll be eating these all the time. They’re for me.” Then I hold the box out to my dad, who has yet to steal one from me. “Want one?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he says, peeling himself away from the counter and taking a muffin. When he bites into it, he has the same reaction I did. “Good god. Don’t forget to bring some to us when we go back home, Danielle.”
“Better yet,” my mom says, brushing crumbs off her hands, “you can make them for us when you’re back after the summer.”
“Don’t remind me,” Dani groans, her shoulders slumping. “It’ll be that time before I know it.”
“Well, learn as much as you can from Amelia,” my mom tells her. “Maybe you can find a job at a bakery at home when you get back.”
“If I like it,” Dani clarifies. Then she turns her brightest smile on me. “I’m supposed to be there at one tomorrow. Think you can give me a ride?”
When my phone rings, it reminds me that I might not be able to help her. So I shrug and hold my phone up. “Maybe. Depends on what this is.”
She scoffs, but I wink at her as I back out of the kitchen and head outside with the box of muffins, protecting what’s left of my neighbor’s treats.
“This is Jeremy,” I say to answer the phone once I’m on the porch. My gaze drifts over to Amelia’s house, but she’s not outside. I wish she’d give me another glimpse of those sexy lips and her memory-soaked eyes, but the voice on the other end of the phone rips me out of those thoughts.
“Mr. Kent, this is George over at NatEx. You have a minut
e? I’d like to talk to you about the job you interviewed for today.”
“Oh, yes. Hi, George. Thanks again for having me in. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. Your brother says you’ll fit right in, and I trust your brother.” He laughs down the line. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be working for me.”
I chuckle too. “I can understand that.”
“Any chance you can start tomorrow? The shift starts at three a.m. and ends at nine. It’s six days a week, like we talked about, sorting the boxes and getting the trucks ready for the morning shift.”
After gulping—because that’s early as shit—I nod once though he can’t see me. “Absolutely. I’ll be there before three. Thanks for this opportunity.”
“You got it. I’ll email you more information on where to go when you get here and all that. Okay?”
“Okay. Great. Thank you,” I tell him before hanging up, and then my gaze finds her house again.
Amelia. The beautiful brunette who lives right next door. The gorgeous woman who ran away from me after I’d probably creeped her the fuck out with my weird reaction to her. I fucking sniffed her hair like a stalker. But fuck, she smelled like cupcakes and flowers. I couldn’t help myself.
She looked incredibly sad. Though I noticed that after I’d sniffed her hair. But that’s why I had to make sure she was okay. And, honestly, I still don’t know. She said that she was, but then she confirmed that she hadn’t been okay. And, now, I’m just confusing myself.
I’d go over there right now if I didn’t need to be up before the ass crack of dawn. And maybe if she weren’t my sister’s new boss. Dani already thinks I sleep with everything that walks. The last thing I need to do is fuck the woman who just gave her her first job. Can’t say I don’t want to though. That’s for sure.
But that reminds me. She left my house looking like she wanted to cry. So what the fuck did my family do to her?
Somehow, I’ll get to the bottom of that. She lives right next door, after all. I don’t see the end of this in sight.
Chapter 3
Amelia
“You got it, Mrs. Robins. Red velvet cake with spelt flour and a vegan cream cheese frosting,” I repeat to her. “It’ll be ready for you on Tuesday. No problem.”
“Thanks, dear,” she says. “My daughter will be so excited to have this cake for her birthday.”
“I’m happy to help. See you Tuesday.” I end the call and set the phone in the cradle, trying not to get flour everywhere.
When I check my watch, I do the math: nine minutes until Danielle gets here. Nine minutes until I have some help, because today, I actually need it. Mrs. Robins was my fourth special-order call today. On top of everything I need to do next week just to run normal business, I have several cake and cupcake orders to fill. Danielle’s showing up right on time. And this saves me so much time. I wouldn’t be able to interview anyone, let alone decide to hire one of them.
No, thank you. Danielle can’t get here soon enough.
Four minutes later, the bell above the door rings. I’m mixing this gluten-free chocolate cake for another customer, so I can’t leave it. Which means I take the bowl with me as I push through the door to the front of the bakery. And I don’t find a customer like I’m expecting.
Danielle’s walking into the building, which is fantastic. She’s early. I already like that about her. But she’s not who catches my eye. And she’s not the one who stops me from mixing this cake, the wooden spoon frozen in the batter.
My gaze goes straight to the man behind the wheel of the car outside the door. He’s doing something on his cell phone, but then he turns his head toward the building and those melted-chocolate eyes land on me.
My entire body flushes with the weight of his sexy stare on me. God, I can’t deal with this right now. My traitorous body has been added to the list of things that can go straight to hell.
When he waves, the spell breaks and I shake myself out of the weird trance. Then he drives off, and Danielle seems to notice that I wasn’t fully present with her when she first walked in. She looks behind her, but her brother’s car is gone, so she doesn’t see anything that might give her a clue as to why I’m so strange right now.
“You okay?” she asks when she spins back toward me.
I resume my cake mixing and assure her. “Oh yeah. Everything’s good. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Early for my first day!” She smiles wide, excited to be here.
I hope she stays excited. Baking—either you like it or you don’t. There’s no half-assing this job. Customers can taste it in the final product if you don’t love what you do. And I wasn’t planning on showing her the ropes in the kitchen, but I could really use the help there too. So I hope she’s ready to learn everything about this place.
Except the business side. I need to remember to ask my sister if we got any applicants for that. And maybe see if she wants to conduct interviews. Because I really can’t be trusted to do all of that part.
I gesture with my head to have her follow me to the back. “This is the kitchen. I’m currently making a special-order cake for a customer, so we can finish that up and then I’ll show you some more stuff about the place. That sound okay?”
She nods eagerly as I set the bowl on the counter and finish mixing. “That sounds perfect. I’m excited to get started. This summer is going to be perfect now.”
Ah, yeah. That reminds me. “So you’re just here for the summer?” I ask. Then I point behind her. “Can you grab the two round pans up there?”
She spins around and takes the two round pans down from the shelf. “Yeah. My parents said I could stay in town with my brother for the summer if I got a job. They don’t want me hanging at the house by myself all summer, and they don’t want anyone else to be responsible for me, either.”
“Gotcha,” I tell her, taking the pans from her. I set them on the counter and evenly pour the batter between them. “Well, I’m glad you were willing to work here. I think it’s a fun place, but I’m a lot older than you are.” I give her a self-deprecating laugh and scrape the bowl with a rubber spatula.
She waves me off. “Yeah, right. You can’t be that old.”
“No?” My lips tip up in a half smile. “You’re sweet.”
“You look like you’re my brother’s age. And he’s not old.”
No. No, he’s not, I think as I pick the pans up and tip my head toward the oven. “Can you open that? We’ll pop these in there for twenty minutes and I’ll show you the ropes in the front end.”
She does as I asked, and the cakes go in. Once I’ve set the timer, we head through the doors to the front. And I do my best not to scratch the itch to ask a million and two questions about her brother.
Like How old is he? And Does he have a girlfriend? And Would you care if I slept with him? Because none of that is creepy or anything. And because I don’t think I really want to know the answers. I don’t need that kind of distraction in my life. I’m busy enough as it is. And all of that is nothing compared to the obvious: my past.
Shake it off, Amelia. Shake it the hell off.
“So, we open early,” I tell her, taking my apron off. “Are you able to get here at five a.m.? If not, you can start around seven. I need help either in the kitchen or up front here with customers when we’re busy.” With the back of my wrist, I wipe my forehead. “Or both if you can swing it.”
“Oh, hmm.” She worries her lip. “I can ask my brother if he can drop me off in the mornings, but he just got a job too and might need to be at work before that.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, what time do you want to come in? I’m sure we can make whatever work.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I thought you’d just tell me what time to be here. I’ll figure it out from there. This place isn’t that far from the house.”
It’s not, which is another reason on the long list of reasons why I love this place so much. It’s so quick and easy to get here.
&nbs
p; “Oh hey!” She snaps her fingers. “What if I just catch a ride with you? My brother can probably pick me up if my shift ends before yours does.”
I tilt my head to the side. Actually, that will work perfectly. I think this girl will be good for my decision-making skills. Seeing as she’s already taking charge and making them for me. I can handle that.
“Great,” I tell her. “We can do that. Want to start tomorrow? Or is that too early?”
Her eyes narrow again. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me that stuff?”
Or she’s not going to make them for me. I guess I am the boss and all that.
“Sorry,” I say, moving over to the cash register. “I’ve never had an employee before.”
Her jaw drops. “You’ve been running this place by yourself?”
I nod slowly. “Well, the day-to-day stuff. I do all the baking before people come in for the day, and then I make the special orders after hours. But we’ve steadily been getting busier, so my sister thinks—”
“You have a sister?” she asks eagerly, cutting me off from my rambling—thank goodness. “I’ve always wanted one. Brothers just aren’t the same, especially when they’re a lot older than you,” she sighs.
Again, I nod. “I do. And she has a daughter, who’s five.”
“Oh, you’re an aunt too!” she exclaims. “I can’t wait to be an aunt.”
Before I realize it, I react to her words. My eyebrows rise on my forehead and I ask a question I have no business asking. “Your brother’s married, then?”
If she realizes why I’m asking, she doesn’t show it. “No, but he just asked his girlfriend to marry him. They’re so perfect together that it’s kind of disgusting, but it’s also something to look up to, you know?”
Something like disappointment slices through me. The sting sours in my gut, but I try to shove it down. It has no business in my system at all, not when I’m in no place to care about those kinds of things. But, to keep up with the conversation, I tip my head in acknowledgement.
“I don’t know if they even want kids,” she goes on, “but I do want to be an aunt. I don’t know if I want any kids of my own though.”