After a few minutes of silence, I decided it must have been my imagination. But just as I was about to turn the mixer back on another thud hit my ears. I glanced at my phone on the counter and considered calling 911. But what if it was just a dog, a cat, or a directionally challenged bird? While trying to come up with other plausible thud sources, there was another, followed by Taylor telling me to once again shake it off. I took the dish towel slung over my shoulder and wiped my hands. I picked up my cellphone and closed Spotify before grabbing Bessy, my trusted baseball bat.
Holding Bessy at arm’s length in front of me, I crept down the hallway trying not to make any noise. Blood mixed with adrenaline pulsed through my veins. My muscles tensed with each step. Beads of sweat popped up on my forehead. When I was a foot away from the exit the doorknob jiggled. Whatever was on the other side had hands. Probably big, scary, hairy Sasquatch hands. I only had two things in my favor: Bessy and the element of surprise. The muffled sound of crunching gravel made my breathing quicken. Taking in one last deep breath, I tightened my grip on Bessy and flung open the door.
I ran out, wildly swinging the bat in all directions, and screamed, “Motherfucker, the cops will be here in five seconds!”
I was getting lightheaded and a little nauseous as I spun, the whoosh of air the only thing I heard until I caught the distant sound of my name being yelled by a deep, raspy, somewhat panicked voice.
“Lip! It’s Logan. Logan Heath!”
I froze in position, legs far apart, knees bent slightly with Bessy straight up in front of me.
“Lip, did you hear me? It’s Logan.”
I closed my eyes and prayed that this was just a bad dream.
“Lip, are you okay?”
Nope. Not a dream.
First, I stood up straight, lowering Bessy to my side. Then I slowly opened my eyes to find Logan standing five feet away in a navy blue T-shirt, dark gray basketball shorts, and tennis shoes. Oh, and a smug smirk on his perfectly symmetrical face.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I yelled.
His hands went up into a surrender pose as he walked toward me. “First things first. Never tell a criminal the timeframe in which the cops will arrive. And five seconds, really? No one would ever believe that.”
“I’ll remember those pearls of wisdom the next time I’m fighting for my life.” Each word was doused in sarcasm.
“Dramatic much?”
I sneered at him before heading back inside. Crossing the threshold, I grabbed the door and slung it behind me. Logan followed close behind, preventing the door from closing. I put Bessy back in her spot and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. Leaning against the counter, I unscrewed the bottle, and took a swig. Logan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed staring at me. My skin tingled. Not sure if it was from his gaze or from my body calming down.
Holding the bottle in midair, I snapped, “What are you looking at?”
He cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly as if he were coming out of a daze. “Uh… Do you mind if I get a bottle of water?”
I tilted my chin up toward the fridge. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” He got his water then leaned back against the counter opposite me.
We drank and sized up each other.
“Why were you lurking around my bakery? Did you think I wouldn’t be here this early? I own the place, I’m always here. What was with the attempted break in?” I fired off each question in rapid succession.
“I wasn’t lurking. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go for a run and it just so happened…”
WHILE HE EXPLAINED HIMSELF I couldn’t help getting lost in the visual. Logan was the epitome of handsome and had the vibe of a man who was comfortable in his skin. This morning he had on a T-shirt, allowing me to see what I felt yesterday. He was what I called a triple T: tanned, toned, and tall. Judging from my five-foot-six-inch frame, he had to be around six feet two inches in height. His dark hair no longer hung down over his eyes like in high school. It was combed back with just a hint of waviness. The scruff peppering his jawline accentuated his sharp angular features and almost caused me to miss the deep dimple in his chin.
“I saw the kitchen light through the front window.”
Coming out of my Logan haze, I finished my water, tossing the bottle in the recycle bin. “I’d like a straight answer.”
“Yes, I’m single and completely unattached,” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I chuckled. “That was not the question.”
“Really?”
Crossing my arms in front of me, I countered, “I guarantee you those words never passed my lips.”
“That’s because you were asking with your eyes.”
I shook my head, the corners of my mouth twitching into a smile.
“I’m not such a bad guy, you know.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, pushing off from the counter and going to the sink to wash my hands.
As I turned on the warm water and lathered up my hands, I heard footsteps behind me. My hands were covered in suds when the sound of Logan’s deep voice startled me. A ball of bubbles floated up in front of me then exploded, splashing sudsy residue all over my face.
“What are you making?” he asked, tossing his empty water bottle into the recycle bin, which happened to be right next to the sink.
I rinsed off the soap, grabbed a towel, and dried my face and hands.
“Vanilla cupcakes,” I said, returning to the mixer and trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me.
My stomach clenched and my previously dry hands were damp from sweat. I picked up the spatula and was about to finish scraping down the sides of the bowl, when it slipped out of my hand, bounced off the counter, and fell to the floor, splattering batter everywhere. Flustered, I fumbled before squatting to grab it. When I got down there a pair of probing blue eyes met me.
“You want me to get you a new one?” he said, holding the dirty spatula.
“O-o-okay. There’s a bunch in the drawer next to the oven.”
My words had an underlying giddiness that pissed me off. The last thing I wanted was Logan to think he had an effect on me. It takes more than broad shoulders, a flat stomach, and phenomenal forearms—not to mention a manly minty scent—to get my butter creamed.
Logan tossed the old spatula in the sink and quickly returned with the new one.
“Thank you.” I gave him a modest smile of appreciation because I was raised with manners.
At this point I thought he would leave. Instead, he stood behind me, looking over my shoulder in what some might consider an intimate fashion. The heat from his body warmed me up all over. And I do mean a-a-a-a-l-l-l-l over.
“I’m sorry I scared you earlier.” Each word with its accompanying puff of air wafted down the back of my neck, causing an avalanche of shivers.
Clearing my throat, I shoved the spatula into the bowl. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Would it be okay if I stay for a while?”
His breath smelled like a forest full of Christmas trees decorated with candy canes.
“Not necessary,” I said, nonchalantly.
“Let me be your assistant. I think being bossed around by you would be fun.”
I have not had sex with another person in a long time. How long? I am not sure. I have not kept meticulous records. If I were to make an educated guess, I would say it was in the neighborhood of two years, seven months, five days, and nine hours. Roughly. I didn’t calculate down to the minute or second. That would be pathetic.
I am not saying Logan wanted to have sex with me. We didn’t even know each other and it would be highly inappropriate since his sole purpose in life was to destroy my bakery. But the combination of sexy man and the scent of holiday candy was intoxicating. I have a strong will, but Logan’s appeal coupled with my ho-hum hoo-hah action as of late had my willpower on shaky ground. I needed to stop acting like a girl crushing on a boy, and start acting like a woman protecting her b
usiness.
I stepped to the side, putting some distance between us. “Is this your shtick?”
“My shtick?”
“Your jam?”
“My jam?”
“Stop repeating everything I say. God! It’s so obvious. Harper sends you in to charm their latest female target. Then when said female gets all comfy and cozy, you swoop in like a vulture and devour everything she’s worked for. Just out of curiosity, is there a female version of you? You know, a Loganista who worms her way into the hearts of unsuspecting businessmen? Or are you sex-u-ally fluid?”
“While I find this discussion interesting as hell, yet pretty weird, I don’t think we are at the point in our relationship in which we should be talking about my sexual fluids.” He smirked.
Damn him and his sensual smirking lips.
“Why are you really here, Logan?”
“I’m staying down the street in one of Harper’s corporate apartments. I was out for a run and found myself in front of the bakery hoping you were here.”
“So you could capitalize on my sleepy state in the wee small hours of the morning no doubt.” Pursing my lips, I wondered if I had read his business card wrong. “I thought you were local.”
He arched one of his dark brows. “Did you Google me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I read the address on your business card.”
“Very observant. I live in Mount Pleasant. I hate all the traffic coming into downtown during tourist season, so I had the company put me up.”
“Closer to your target?”
His jaw clenched as he placed his hands on his narrow hips, and hung his head in frustration.
“Closer to the acquisition.”
“You can use all the fancy college words you want, it still means you’re trying to destroy me.”
Logan’s head popped up, his eyes fixed on me. “Do you react disproportionately to everything?”
“Disproportionately? Who talks like that? Is that diplomatic code for hysterical woman?”
He inhaled a couple of deep breaths, no doubt trying to quell his anger.
That’s right, I said quell. I know things.
His gaze traveled down my body, leaving goose bumps in its path. When Logan’s eyes returned to mine, there was something different in them. Lust? Part of me wanted it to be lust. It could have been lust. It probably was not lust. Mother of God! What was wrong with me? One minute I was acting like a giddy schoolgirl, the next I was ready to rip him a new one. Now I was back to wanting him to want me.
Frankly, I was perplexed and disappointed in myself. It was as if I had no control over my own body. And when my stomach fluttered, my skin tingled, and every inch of me heated up, my mind shut down. But I could not and would not let my immature reaction to him cloud my adult senses.
“Why were you trying to break into my kitchen?”
“When I saw the light I wanted to make sure everything was okay, so I came around back to investigate.”
“Aw, my hero. It’s nice to know deep down you still have a smidge of decency left to help others. ”
Logan looked at me confused. The motherfucker was even cuter when off kilter.
“Fort Johnson High,” I said.
“Wow, you really did your research on me. I think you like me.”
“We attended the same school.”
“That was a long time ago. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I insisted.
Tapping his chin with his index finger, Logan looked up at the ceiling. Either he was wracking his brain or stalling for time so as to not offend me.
“Relax. I don’t expect you to remember me. I was a lowly freshman in a new school and you were the star football player.”
A prideful expression took over his face. “Those were great years.”
I shrugged. “Eh.”
“So, our paths have crossed before. Small world.”
“Not small enough.”
“I’m not your enemy, Lip.”
“You’re certainly not my friend.”
“I’d like to be.”
My knees felt wobbly and my heart skipped a…
Goddammit! Lip! Not more than five seconds ago you were spouting about what a strong woman you were. Logan utters four little words in his deep husky voice and you turn into goo. They weren’t even dirty words.
“Oh, you’re good. You’re very good. But I’m better. I’m immune to all of this.” I waved my hand up and down indicating his body. His tall, toned body.
Logan chuckled. “I like you, Lip Smacker.”
Tilting my head to the side, I said, “Of course you do. I’m very likable.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you so dead set against selling this place?”
“I don’t wanna. That’s reason enough for you, Mr. Heath.”
If I told him the real reason I knew he would somehow use it as ammunition against me.
“There’s something else keeping you in this spot,” he said.
“You think so, huh?”
Logan took three steps, landing him a foot away from me. “I’m going to find out what it is, Lip.”
“Good luck with that, Logan.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“You’re kind of an arrogant bastard.”
His face twitched stifling a laugh. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I have work to do, Mr. Heath. So, kindly get the hell out of my bakery.”
“Gotta love a woman who knows what she wants.”
“And that would be you out of here.”
“I’ll be back,” he said.
“I’m sure you will be.”
Logan walked toward the entrance to the hallway then stopped.
He looked over his shoulder and said, “Lip.”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad I got to start my day with you.”
I felt the blush spread over my cheeks.
“Oh and…it was the first day of school. Your locker. You wore a pair of red framed glasses.”
Without waiting for a reply, Logan left me standing in the middle of the kitchen, dumbfounded and swooning.
ONCE LOGAN LEFT I tried to focus and go about my daily routine. But I couldn’t get him, his words, or the way he made me feel out of my head. You could have tipped me over with a feather when he admitted remembering me. Then a horrible thought popped into my head. What if he had seen me peeking around corners or sitting up in the bleachers during football practice all those years ago?
It felt as if the walls of the tiny kitchen were inching their way in my direction, causing a claustrophobic sensation. Placing my hands flat on the countertop, I forced oxygen in and out of my lungs. I was careening toward a full-blown panic attack when Wavy walked through the door. Not wanting to cause her any worry, I tamped down my instinct to spew the bile filling my throat and instead put on the happiest face I could muster.
“Elipheleta, I need to talk to you before we open,” she said.
It’s never good when someone needs to talk to you. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time it’s something you’d rather not hear. The only two times Wavy had uttered those words to me were when my grandfather died and when my parents were killed. Immediately, my chest felt as if a large boulder was teetering on the precipice waiting to be pushed and crush my heart.
I inhaled one more deep breath and stood up straight. “Oka-a-a-y.”
“Let’s go sit down.”
I followed her into the shop, both of us taking a seat at one of the rickety bistro tables.
She blew out a breath and said, “I think you should sell the shop.”
“Not gonna happen.”
She placed her hand over mine. “That young man who was in here yesterday—”
“Is a jerk.”
“That might be the case, but he’s right.”
I shook my head and pushed away from the table. �
�This meeting is adjourned.”
“Elipheleta Cora Smacker, you are going to sit here and listen to what I have to say.”
Begrudgingly, I scooted my chair back up to the table.
“I know why you did all of this.” She waved her hand out to the bakery.
“I did it for us.”
“You did it mostly for me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Elipheleta, you are a terrible liar. I think you need to at least hear what that young man has to say.”
“Well, I’m not gonna. This place is special.”
“My sweet girl, I’ve given this a lot of thought. And it occurred to me that I’ve been trying to go back to a time before I had a broken heart.” Her pale green eyes glistened with tears. “Unfortunately, once something has been broken it’s never the same again, no matter how much glue you use. Keeping this bakery in this location is not going to bring Leon or anyone else back. If you take the offer you’ll be financially set.”
The “anyone else” she was referring to were my parents, especially my dad, Wavy’s only child. She never steered away from talking about my grandfather. Naturally, right after his death whenever his name was mentioned it would bring a flood of tears to her eyes. But as time passed the tears became mingled with laughter and fond memories.
I used to wonder why Wavy rarely spoke of my dad. After the accident she remained silent as I sobbed and asked unanswerable questions. When I felt strong enough to go down memory lane with her, trying desperately to cling to the good memories of my dad, the slightest hint of a smile would appear on her face. But once I was finished reminiscing and she made sure I was okay, Wavy would quickly walk away, returning several minutes later with puffy red eyes. Even though losing the love of her life broke her heart, I guess in a way she was prepared for it. Losing her only child broke her soul. No parent could ever be prepared for that. That’s not the way life was supposed to work.
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me all of this,” I said.
She hesitated for a moment. “I went to the doctor yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had an appointment? I would have gone with you.”
“You were upset already because of that young man. I didn’t want to add on to your stress.”
Lip Smacker Page 3