by Amity Cross
I leaned back against the bench, my head spinning. Looked like I had to make my decision right now, but what was I supposed to do?
Okay, Callie, think.
If I took the job, I would be working for someone else. If I stayed, I would be working for no one else but me. I would be in charge of my little piece of heaven, my slice of the pie. It mightn’t be very large, but it was mine. I built it on my own with no outside help or stepping-stones or even a celebrity endorsement.
I never wanted a big life. All I ever wanted was something to call my own…and someone to share it with.
And just like that, I made my decision.
“I’ll go to his place,” I blurted, standing tall, my gaze searching for my handbag. “I’ll make him see…”
“Hell, yeah!” Lori watched me with a strange smile on her face. “But I don’t think he’ll be there.”
“Then where would he be?” I halted my frantic searching.
“It’s highly likely he’ll be at The Underground again. I can take you if you like.”
“The Underground?” I asked with a squeak. She wanted me to dive headfirst into a den full of criminals and violent cage fighters to proclaim my feelings for Mark? I felt like shitting my pants.
“Make or break, Callie.” She tilted her head to the side and gestured at the door.
Was I now in the same position Mark was when he was offered that spot in the UFC? I didn’t have a crystal ball, but I did know I didn’t want to play in the big leagues.
In a way, I suppose Mark had taken a leap of faith when he’d turned up to explain the story about the ring girl. I could have thrown him out again, but he’d bared the most painful and humiliating experience he’d ever been through in hopes I would give him another chance. He didn’t have anything else, and he’d chosen the hope of what we could be. I had no idea what he saw in me, but if I chickened out now, I would never know at all.
I glanced at Lori. “Who would have thought a pair of sad, chocolate-colored eyes could have started all of this.”
“Love sucks, right?” she asked with a wink.
“Big-time.”
Lori gave me a ride to The Underground and practically held my hand as we walked into the warehouse in Abbotsford, just north of the city center.
The sky was darkening as we approached, which seemed to signal the starting time for the debauchery within. People were streaming into the building, and I was shocked at the scale. A couple of hundred bodies were crammed inside along with the very professional looking bar, betting area, and digital noticeboard that listed all the fights happening that night.
Shit, even women fought in the cage! My eyeballs were practically popping out of my head.
“Mark fights here?” I asked, tugging on Lori’s arm. “How does this place even stay open? Don’t the cops try to shut it down?”
“Nah,” she replied. “With the amount of money being thrown around here, some of it conveniently gets tossed into a couple of choice bank accounts.”
“You’re talking about bribes, right?”
She winked. “Bingo.”
Staring at the cage, which was being cleared for the next fight, I stared at the splatter stains on the concrete and swallowed a pile of vomit. That had to be old blood. The entire structure was made out of plain old chain link, and there was no padding in sight.
“I don’t like it,” I said, wrapping my arms around my waist. “This whole place…”
“It’s pretty confronting,” Lori said in agreement. “I worked the bar here for about three years. That’s how I met Storm…and Hamish. I got out almost two years ago now.”
“Why?”
“A variety of reasons. The bar manager tried to rape me for one.”
My mouth fell open, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze was raking the crowd, searching for Mark, aka Storm.
A voice boomed over the speakers as a fight was announced between two guys with weird names—Sabre and Boom. As the fight got underway, I stared in shock as the two men brawled. Fists smacked into faces, they wrestled on the ground, and they collided with the chain link, all while the crowd on the surrounding bleachers screamed for blood.
This was what Mark did here? Remembering the black eye and more recently, his broken arm, I felt vomit percolating in my gut. This is what he believed was his last resort. This horrible violence. Watching those two fighters go at it made my heart break in two.
“Can you see him?” I asked Lori.
“There!” She pointed to the bleachers where halfway up, sitting on the edge, I spotted his familiar head of messy overgrown hair.
I made a move, but Lori grasped my arm. “You’ve got my number if you need anything,” she said. “Just in case.”
I nodded and turned back to the bleachers just as the fight was being called in Boom’s favor. I didn’t care who won or what condition they were in, my only concern was the defeated man sitting alone in the crowd.
He didn’t see me at first. Not until I climbed the stairs and sat beside him.
“Callie?” He straightened, up his expression filled with horror. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t realize,” I said, breathlessly. “I didn’t realize this was what you did…”
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Why?” I turned to face him with a scowl. “I’m here for you, you blockhead. I turned down the job.”
He blinked, completely lost for words.
“I met Lori this afternoon,” I went on. “She brought me here.”
“You met Lori?”
“She came to see me.” I sighed and placed my hand on his knee. “What a pair we are… Good intentions but always just missing the mark.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, allowing his gaze to fall to my hand. “I’m so messed up I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“What do you want?” I asked. “Be honest with me, Mark. No hiding behind bravado or expectations or past experiences. Just say it. You know I won’t judge you. So, what do you want?”
He reached over with his right hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “You gave up the job?”
“Mark.”
He sighed and raised his chin. Seeing him so vulnerable was shattering. He was this big, bad fighter, and right now, he looked on the verge of something so poignant it was beautiful in its sadness.
Still, he didn’t answer, so I offered him the alternative Lori and I had spent the entire ride over discussing. “I know a guy who can get your story out there. The real story. If that’s what you want, of course. Then I know a girl who knows a guy who can get you an in as a personal trainer anywhere in the city. Get your qualification, and you’re set. You don’t have to fight here anymore if that’s what you want. If you want to fight again, I can’t stop you. I won’t like it, but it’s your choice.”
“It seems like you’ve got this all worked out,” he said, the chip on his shoulder growing larger by the second.
“It’s not a bad thing to admit you need help,” I retorted. “It’s not going to make your balls shrivel up and fall off. Nor is accepting a hand up if it’s offered to you. A legitimate hand up.”
“Is this what you want?” he asked. “What you really want?”
“What I want is The Fitzroy Cake Company and a chance to fall in love with you.”
He snorted.
“You and me? I wouldn’t know just yet,” I said. “You haven’t given me a chance, but I’m pretty sure it’ll happen.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. Not really. You have to meet me halfway.” I moved closer and rested my forehead against his. “All I ever wanted was the shop and someone to share it with. Someone to share my life, you know? Be my partner in crime. My best buddy. A man who could make my knees tremble and kiss me when I’m sad. I know it’s you, Mark. You already do all those things for me. Please believe me when I say…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Please give me a chance to love you.”
“Whatever. So are you going to answer my question, Storm?” I raised my eyebrows expectantly. “Here’s your chance. Make or break. What do you want?”
Leaning forward, he kissed me softly on the lips. “You,” he said. “All I want is you.”
23
Callie
Standing in the kitchen of The Fitzroy Cake Company, I put the finishing touches on the batch of cupcakes in front of me with a flourish. Swirling the last dab of rainbow buttercream icing, I put down the piping bag and sighed.
“Are these ready to go out?” Melissa asked. She was the first employee I’d ever hired, and so far was just as keen as I was.
“Yep. Load them into the display.”
“They look amazing,” she said, sliding the tray off the counter before disappearing out front.
“Am I interrupting?” a deep voice rumbled behind me.
Spinning on my heel, my gaze collided with Mark’s, and I grinned at the sight of him. My entire body zinged, and an image of what we’d done on the bench—which I’d disinfected—came to mind.
Since our confrontation at The Underground a week ago, things had settled. Well, the best they could with the shop’s opening looming. We were much more open with each other, his comfort levels had increased tenfold, and we were on the up-and-up. Those walls he’d built after his return from America were beginning to be dismantled, and the real man was shining through. The changed man.
His experiences had shaped him more than he’d realized, and I really fucking loved what was underneath. It wasn’t just in reference to his sexy as hell sculpted body but the heart he’d denied having his whole life. The heart that beat with mine. Hell, I was turning into a complete sap.
We’d been through a lot of emotional turmoil since the fire, and even though our story was unconventional, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Things happened exactly as they needed to. We’d both needed a hell of a kick up the ass to get us moving. It kind of paralleled my current zombielike state, if that was even comparable.
“Mark!” I exclaimed, opening my arms as he approached.
Pulling me into his embrace, he chuckled. “You look sexy in that little apron.”
“Shut up, I look like shit. I’ve been up half the night baking, and we were back here at six a.m. I’m pretty sure there’s icing in my hair.”
“So? You look pretty fucking hot if you ask me,” he retorted. “Hey, did you know there’s a line outside?”
I leaned back with a frown. “There’s a what?”
“Man, you are dedicated to your work.” He shook his head with a playful grin. “I bet you haven’t even looked up even for one second.”
“Not really. I want this to be perfect…” Extracting myself from his arms, I moved over to the door and peeked through the opening. Melissa was placing the rainbow cakes I’d just made into the display case while Stephan and Mallory, the front of house staff I’d hired, were tidying up the counter and arranging the last of the decorations for the opening. Beyond them was the outside world—a place I’d forgotten existed in the last few days—and it was equal parts alarming and exhilarating.
People were lined up along Brunswick Street, filling the entire length of the window. If they went any further, I had no idea, but it didn’t matter. There were people waiting for the store to open so they could taste my cakes. I began to wiggle on the spot, shifting my weight from one foot to the other like I had ants in my pants.
“They go right down the street,” Mark said. “Have you got enough cakes?”
“Oh, fuck!” I cursed. “I made a schedule and have inventory, but… I don’t know… Oh, fuck!”
“Calm down,” he said, grasping my shoulders and turning me around. “Enjoy this moment, Callie. They’re here for you and your cakes. This is your dream, remember?”
I sighed, melting into his touch. “You’re right. Mark, I…”
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He cupped my face with his good hand and gently cradled my back with his cast. The two girls I had helping me in the kitchen rushed around us, giggling as Mark and I kissed.
“I’m here! I’m here!” We turned as Macy appeared through the back door, shucking off her coat and looking completely frazzled. “The tram was stuck behind a wall of traffic. Then I see the fucking line outside! Holy Fuck!” She froze when she saw Mark, and her lip curled. “Still not a fan.”
Mark tensed. “Let me see if I can help out front.” He moved through the door and into the shop, leaving my overzealous housemate and me in the kitchen.
“Leave him be,” I said. “We’re a work in progress. I made my choice.”
“By dumping Hector Vanderhall?”
“I told you the other day,” I said, putting my hands on my hips, “I didn’t turn the job down because of Mark. I turned it down because I didn’t want it. This is what I want my life to be.” I gestured to the kitchen and glanced at Mark, who was lingering just through the door. “This.”
“I really thought you would’ve dropped him,” Macy said, clearly aware he was right behind her. “Not run off to some criminal establishment.”
“Macy,” I scolded. “I explained it to you.”
“How pushing everyone away was easier than actually, you know, living?” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t push a rock uphill.”
“I am a resistant asshole,” Mark said with a smirk.
“And just so you know,” she declared, turning to face him, “if you hurt her again, you had better watch your back.”
He raised his eyebrows and glanced at me. “You’ve got good taste, Winslow.”
“Is he being patronizing?” Macy asked, glancing at me. “Because I can’t tell if the brain is working in connection with the brawn or if there’s one there at all.”
“He’s being sincere, Mace.”
“You’ll like me one day,” he added before stepping around her so he could get to me. Sliding his arm around my waist, he pulled me close. “I was going to wait until later to tell you, but I got the call yesterday.”
My mouth fell open. “You did?”
“Yeah. As of next month, I’ll be working at Bodyworks Gym over on Smith Street.” I threw my arms around him and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “I’ll miss the money from The Underground, though.”
“Mark!”
“Joking, joking… I think…” He laughed, and the look in his eyes had all the right parts trembling. “The tradeoff is worth it.”
“Two minutes until ten,” Stephan called out from the front of the shop. “Callie, do you want to do the honors?”
I squeaked and ran my fingers through my hair, then took off my apron. “How do I look?”
“Perfect,” Mark said.
“Go get ’em,” Macy added. “We’ll be right here.”
Skipping out into the shop, I beamed at the sight of the people waiting. They perked up as I unlocked the door and threw it open.
“Welcome!” I called out as people began filing into the shop. “I’m Callie, the owner of The Fitzroy Cake Company. If you would like to gather around, I have a little opening ceremony I would like to share before our first sale.” People were smiling and hanging on my words as I directed them to the far corner of the shop front. “May I present the famous Twister cake. You may have seen it online or displayed in the window this past week.”
The assembled crowd gushed and clapped as I held out my hand. A moment later, Mark appeared with my instrument of destruction. An aluminum baseball bat.
“I made this cake in a moment of heartbreak,” I went on. “But I’m here to tell you my heart isn’t broken anymore. What this cake represents is a part of my life that I will never ever return to because trusting myself and the man who saved my life is more important to me than any stepping-stone. That’s why, as a symbol of new beginnings, I’m about to introduce this bat to that cake. You ma
y want to take a step back.”
There were gasps and claps as I brandished my weapon of choice. Meeting Mark’s gaze, he nodded. At that moment, my heart swelled, my head spun, and I knew. I knew it would be him. Always.
I swung with all my strength, and the bat collided with the mountain of chocolate sponge, marzipan, fairy floss, and boysenberry jam filling. It splattered, making the assembled crowd shriek in delight. Luckily for me, I’d made the outer shell of the Twister heartbreak cake thin enough for the effect I was hoping for.
“Smash it!” Mark called out from behind me.
“Yeah!” Macy added. “Put your back into it!”
I hit it again, and someone shrieked in delight. “I caught a cow!”
It hit it again and again until there was nothing left but a pile of mush. Man, that was a real stress reliever.
Turning, I smiled widely and ran my finger over the cake splatter on the bat. “I now declare The Fitzroy Cake Company open for business!”
Claps and cheers washed over me, and I basked in the feeling, hoping and wishing it would never end. The warm and fuzzy sensation of pure joy and love. I’d made it. Scratch that. Mark and I…we’d made it.
“Hey,” I murmured, tugging on his arm. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure.” He blinked, clearly confused.
“I’m not sure how I’m meant to do this considering I haven’t said it before, but I’m pretty confident it’s all about the moment. Striking while the iron is hot because I’m ready. I want to live my life. This is all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t need any of that other shit. The line of signature bakeware nonsense. This is enough.”
“Callie, what are you getting at?” He glanced at the bustling shop as cake after cake flew off the shelves and were packed into boxes.
“I love you, Mark,” I blurted.
He stared at me, his eyes widening, and I began to fret I’d laid it on too thick, too fast.
A long moment passed, and then his lips curved into a smile. A real, genuine smile.
“I love you, too.”
