by Piper Rayne
“Let’s go. We can’t be late.”
“Go to the car, I’ll be right out.” I scribble down a note for my parents who are opening until I get back from the game, swipe my keys from the counter, and head out.
I lock up the doors to the bar, wave to Ava, without my eyes staying on her too long and slide into my car with Toby who’s voicing his concern that we’re going to be late. The kid does not get his worrying from me. Must be his mom...strike that. I have no clue where he gets it from.
The Climax Cove Raiders win twelve to eight.
Toby orders his video game on my phone on the ride back to the bar. There are times I feel bad for how much time Toby has to spend at the bar and grill. The small arcade I installed doesn’t fill up his time unless one of his friends comes in with their family for dinner. Then usually the parents love it because the boys will go off and play while they have a quiet meal.
But at this point in the bar’s financials, I have no choice. I haven’t found anyone other than Charlie that I trust enough not to screw me over.
“Grandma is going to take you home tonight,” I tell him and I see his frown from my rearview mirror.
“Hey, tomorrow is all us, buddy. Rafting.”
His frown instantly turns into a smile. “Last one for the season, right?” His eyes meet mine in the mirror.
“We’ll see, maybe we can get out again soon.”
“Are Uncle Garrett and Sydney coming this time?”
“No, it’s just us.”
His smile grows wider, and I know it’s not because he doesn’t like Garrett and his daughter Sydney, but since the grill opened, he hasn’t had enough time with just me.
I pull into the back alleyway since the street will be busy today with it being Saturday. Toby climbs out and runs inside the back door. I follow behind, leaving all his stuff in the trunk since we’ll be back on the ballfield in two days.
My mom is hovered over the stove with Toby by her side now, the wooden spoon at his lips.
“What are you doing?” I ask, greeting her myself with a kiss on the cheek.
“I thought you’d like a batch of my sauce. You can freeze some and serve it for a special or something.” She smiles and places the spoon that was just in Toby’s mouth on the resting plate.
As she scoops pasta she’s already made into a bowl for Toby, I take the spoon and toss it in the sink, replacing it with a new one. Sometimes my mom doesn’t understand that she’s not cooking Sunday dinner for our family.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Where my dad hated the idea of adding a grill to the bar, my mom helped me come up with a good menu and is always willing to help me out.
“Dad in the front?” I ask.
She spoons the sauce into Toby’s dish and then pulls up a chair next to her. “Sit and tell me about your game.”
Toby smiles, never one not to want to replay each game with anyone who asks.
Leaving them to their grandma and grandson bonding time, I escape into my office and switch my now dust covered gym shoes to a clean pair.
Walking down the hallway, I pause finding my dad behind the bar, sitting on a stool, talking with his friends.
The bar isn’t horribly busy, but people are starting to find their way into town now.
“Thanks, Dad, I got it from here.” I pat his back, circle around him and ask the first person what they’d like to drink.
“You need help. I always had help.”
“You had me and Sara,” I deadpan, not in the mood for another lecture today. Nothing I do is good enough for him.
“Yeah. Help.”
He walks out from behind the bar, to his table in the back. His friends swivel off their stools to join him. In between serving drinks, I grab the stool, and place it back on the other side of the bar.
I hate asking for help, especially from my father, but Toby was way too excited for me to coach his Little League fall team.
“Hey, Dane. Do we have cupcakes?” Aurora, one of my servers asks me.
“No. Who’s asking?” I look into the seating area.
“They said they were here the other night and you served chocolate ones or something?
“Oh, that was a trial. So, they want another one?”
“I’m guessing so since they’re asking,” she says, thick with sarcasm. Aurora and her smart mouth. She’s just returned from college after failing out her freshman year. I was hesitant to hire her but other than her mouth, she’s a hard worker.
“Stall them, I’ll be right back.”
I tell Matt, my part-time server slash bartender slash fireman, I’ll be back in a minute.
Jogging across the street, I’m happy to find that Mad Batter has a few people milling around. Although, I’d like to see a million different pink boxes walking out the bakery door.
I step behind the counter and swing the kitchen door open, finding Ava icing another batch of cupcakes.
“What kind are those?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
Icing squeezes out all over her table.
“Has anyone ever explained boundaries to you?”
I pause acting as though I’m thinking. “Usually women like it when I bypass their boundaries.”
Her face scrunches up in a give me a break look and she rolls her eyes. “How can I help you, Dane?”
“Well, now that you ask.” I step into the kitchen and her gaze stays on me the entire time. I prop myself up on her counter, watching her scoop more frosting into her bag. “I have a business proposition for you.”
That perfect ass of hers falls onto the stool she always keeps nearby and I’m guessing her legs get as tired as mine do from standing all day.
“If you haven’t noticed, I have a business.”
I purposely glance around the store. “I can see that. I want you to make cupcakes for me for the restaurant.”
Her hazel eyes narrow. “Wouldn’t that take business away from me? You are right across the street.”
I grab a cookie from the baking sheet and hold it up to read it. “Try Me?” I raise a brow. “You know all you have to do is say the word.” I wink.
Her scowl diminishes as pink tints her cheeks.
“I see you’re not in a laughing mood today, so I’ll cut to the chase. You supply me with one type of cupcake, ones you don’t sell here. I’ll credit you on our menus and I’ll make sure my staff tells everyone where they’re from. Believe me, after one, they’ll be coming across the street for more. It’s a win-win.”
She places the icing on the table. If she’s as strapped as Mrs. Sawyer implied, she’ll take the bait. Honestly, this will help both of us.
“Okay, we can try it out.” She stands to her feet, grabs her icing and starts frosting the cupcakes again.
“So, right now, I need two dozen of something.”
She scoffs. “I thought this was a ‘we’ll talk more in the future’ type thing?”
I round my wrist up. “Time’s a ticking. I have a table who wants your cupcakes right now.”
She looks around the table. There’s way more than she’ll sell today, but I’m not a moron, I’m not telling her that.
“You can take these.” She shuffles over to her shelves, rising on her tiptoes to grab the box.
“Here.” I jump off the counter, and reach above her, grabbing the box for her.
She turns and I see this isn’t the best position for two people who just went into business together. I’m not sure I’ll ever grow tired of watching her chest rise and fall with deep breaths when she’s in close proximity to me though.
I back away and her hands hurriedly try to fill the box.
“What kind are these?” I ask, filling the second box for her.
“Salted caramel.” She closes the box, fastens it and then slides it my way.
“How much?” I pull out my wallet.
“Just take those and we’ll come up with a plan when you have more time.”
I stack the two boxes on top of each other and
pick them up. “So, you’re going to agree to spend more time with me?”
She gives me that exasperated look again. “For business, yes.”
“You book the taste test and let me know.”
She nods, her hands landing on my sides, swiveling me around toward the door.
“Now, go. I need to wrap my brain around the fact that I’m desperate enough to invite you into my life everyday.” Her voice is light, casual, and full of sarcasm.
“Most ladies find me a pleasure to be with.”
Her hands haven’t left my back as she follows me to the doorway.
“I never have been a go-with-the-crowd kinda gal.”
I chuckle, turning around and her hands slide around my entire stomach. Damn her touch feels good.
“I think I need to refresh your memory on how pleasurable I can be.”
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t bite her lip enough to stop that smile. The smile that jumbles my stomach into a what-the-fuck-is-going-on ruckus.
“Bye, Dane.” She lightly pushes me out the kitchen door.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” I wink again and she shakes her head, turning around to go back to her decorating while I walk through her store, wondering what I just got myself into.
8
Ava
I closed the shop early because it’s Sunday and no one was really around since the town one over was having their annual fall festival. Next year, I need to grab a booth to sell my stuff and see if I can draw in some locals from neighboring towns.
The warm sun soaks into my skin and I close my eyes as the fresh air breezes by me. I hadn’t realized how long it was since I spent time outside and not inside a hot kitchen with sugar and eggs as my only companions.
“I can squeeze you in on the next one if that’s okay?” The hot ass tour guide at the rafting company approaches me.
“Oh, great. Definitely okay.”
He smiles this double dimple megawatt grin that brings girls to their knees asking him for the pleasure of sucking him off, I’m sure. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably spend the rest of my day flirting with him in the hopes he’d ask me out by sunset. But not today. Today is a solo day, which means it’s all about me.
“Go grab a vest.” He practically flexes his muscles while he points to the post with all the jackets hanging. “Chill out for a bit, and they’ll call you when they’re ready.” Again, with the smile. Yep, this guy rarely gets turned down from girls.
“Thanks,” I look at his nametag, “Bradley.”
“Brad.” He corrects me, shrugging those big shoulders he must work on daily at the gym. While the girls drool on the ellipticals, I’m sure.
Sorry dreamboat, today isn’t the day.
“Thanks.” I walk over to pick out my jacket.
Brad moves behind the counter to continue helping the people who already had reservations. Sometimes it’s a benefit to be a party of one.
Sitting on a rock by the river, I absorb the serenity the wilderness always gives me, watching the rafting boats come in and out, most filled with families. I could have asked my dad to come with me today, but he’ll want to gush on about how proud he is of me, or how happy he is I decided to stay in Climax Cove. Right now, I want to forget all the pressure of the bakery, all the expectations my dad or the town has.
Shaking my head, I try to rid my mind of all the stresses and enjoy a day I rarely get.
I strip off my yoga pants leaving me in my swim shorts hoping to not lose what’s left of my tan from the summer.
“Miss Ava!” a kid screams and I turn around, my eyes taking in a boy with a mop of hair running toward me.
His footsteps skid to a stop on the dirt and gravel once he’s near.
“Toby! What a surprise.”
Please tell me your grandparents brought you, or maybe that babysitter.
“Well, looky looky, it’s the Mad Batter.”
No such luck.
My gaze skirts to Dane, slowly walking toward us. Good to know he wears his shorts like he does his pants, low. That groin cleavage lays there under his white t-shirt just waiting for an unsuspecting female victim to come along.
“Dad, it’s Miss Ava.”
“Yeah.” He stops next to his son, his hand landing on his shoulder. “I see her.” He eyes my bare legs and I curl them into my body as though I can hide them. “Rafting?”
I’m so focused on the goose bumps on my skin from his assessing eyes, it takes a minute for my brain to process the words he just spoke. “I’m sorry?”
He chuckles and then sucks his lips in to stop the laughter while Toby looks back and forth between us.
“Rafting? Are you rafting today, Miss Ava?” Toby’s wide eyes and smile full of missing teeth would make me say yes even if I wasn’t.
“Yes.”
He hops on the rock next to me. “So are my dad and me! I’m so excited.” He strips off his t-shirt and then fastens his life jacket over his chest.
Dane picks up the shirt, folding it and placing it in his backpack.
Please don’t take off your t-shirt. Please don’t take off your t-shirt.
He’s taking off his shirt.
Dane’s hands reach for the hem of his t-shirt and I’m still repeating the chant in my head, but it does no good. Instead, he removes the piece of clothing revealing what he’s most proud of—his perfect V.
“Do you need a water?” he asks.
My eyes flick to his face and that cocky smirk is in place as always.
Not waiting for me to answer, he continues. “You just look so flushed. Maybe too much time in the sun?”
I stare at him unamused until I remember we’re not in the back of my shop bantering with no witnesses. Toby is right next to me, so I detour my attention to him.
“What’s your favorite part of rafting?” I ask.
He smiles, clearly happy that I’m granting him some of my attention. “Dad won’t let me go on any crazy white water yet, but I love paddling.”
I glance back at Dane, who shakes his head, obviously a constant point of stress in their household.
“You’re eight,” he says.
Toby’s jaw drops open as he stares at Dane. “Jack was six when his parents took him out.”
“Jack’s a liar,” Dane says straight-faced. “I’m grabbing drinks. Either of you?” He points back and forth.
“No thanks,” I say.
“Gatorade for me. Orange!” Toby screams, and Dane doesn’t bother turning around.
Brad approaches us on the rock. “Miss Pearson, we’re all set for you. You’ll be on that one.” He points to a group of guys all climbing into a raft.
“I’m sorry. The one with all the men?” I ask to clarify and Toby and I share a look of I’m-not-so-sure-about-this.
“It’s a bachelor party, but they haven’t been drinking.”
So much for a solo day.
“Peachy.” I stand up, grab my yoga pants and start putting them on. “I’ll be right there.”
“You’re going to go with all of them?” Toby asks, his bottom lip pushed out a little more than normal.
“Well, I didn’t call ahead so it’s the only raft they can fit me on.” I smile down and Toby shifts his eyes to the boat and then to me. “Why don’t you come on our boat?”
What am I supposed to say? That I want the white water rafting experience and not the sail down a calm river paddling.
“That’s the one they assigned me to.”
Toby still looks confused. I have one leg in my yoga pants when Dane approaches, his gaze not missing the fact that I’m dressing.
“Dad, Miss Ava is going on that boat.” He points, and we all follow the direction of his finger to the group of guys currently seeing who can hit the other one harder.
“Them? They look like a bunch of gym rats.”
“I already told Toby, I don’t have a reservation, so it’s the only boat that has room for me.” Why am I making excuses? This is none
of their business.
“Well, Toby, say goodbye to Miss Ava.” Dane steps out of the way for me to get down from the rock.
“But, Dad….” Toby whines, but Dane seems happy I’m leaving.
Why does that irk me?
“Maybe we’ll see her after.” Dane’s gaze shifts to the raft where the guys are now staring over at us. “I’m sure there won’t be any time for them to get too handsy,” he whispers, and I jolt back, staring him straight in the eye.
A smirk edges the corner of his lips and my gaze instinctively moves down his torso.
“You always were a fan of my cleavage.” He raises his eyebrows up in a challenge.
I take a deep breath and purposely keep my gaze directed in front of me as I walk away. I’m almost to the raft, hearing the guys razzing others about me riding along with them. Do I really want to endure this just to prove a point to Dane?
I’m running out of time when the guy in the front, the one with the loud mouth and the biggest muscles bends over and throws up in the raft. My feet stop.
“Fuck man!” one friend says.
“Get off the raft.” The guide points to the dock. “You’re done for the day.” Turning their attention to me the guide continues. “I’m sorry, ma’am, we’ll have to clean it out and disinfect it.”
My head falls back in defeat, and I glance over my shoulder, finding Dane’s know-it-all smirk more prominent than before. Asshole.
The next thing I know, Brad’s standing next to me, his dimples now hidden under a mask of annoyance.
“Sorry Miss Pearson. I’ll look to see if we have anything else.”
I follow him back to the counter, and he’s checking clipboards, looking between one sheet and another.
“I can get you on the slower tour, but not the white water.” He drops the clipboard, and his shoulders fall.
Either that or nothing.
“I’ll come back another day,” I say.
“Okay, but there’s no refunds.” Smiley Brad points to the sign etched in wood.
“But, this is out of my control.,” I point out.
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “We’ll offer you a ride on the family raft and give you a coupon for your inconvenience. That’s our policy.” He holds out the coupon.