I loved what I did. I’d loved designing the recipes for them. Creating the names.
The door over the bell rang and I snapped my gaze back to the front.
No, no, no.
After last night, there was no way I could ever look this man in the eye again.
Gabe stood in the doorway, one hand on the glass, the other hanging loosely at his side. “Nice to see you again,” he said, then ambled in and let the door swing shut behind him. More confident than he’d been the last time he’d arrived.
I stared at him in utter disbelief. “What are you doing here?” Way to go, Ally. Insult the man. Just because he scares you doesn’t mean you need to be rude.
But, I didn’t want him to come any closer. I wanted him to go away. I needed to focus on work. Like a professional. Like a real businesswoman.
Gabe walked right up to the counter and leaned on it. He had a blue button-up on today, and the same jacket thrown over it. “Now, is that any way to greet your best customer?”
“Hello,” I breathed, trying again. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to draw myself back to reality. I couldn’t stare into his eyes for too long, because I would get lost in them. “How can I help you?” I put on my winning ‘welcome to the best bakery in Minneapolis’ smile.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered anymore.
“I think you know how you can help me,” he replied. He inched his fingers closer to mine.
“Two Red Velvet Raptures?” I bent to get the box.
“No, just you,” he replied, cocking his head to the side to expose his perfect jaw line again, his blue eyes alight with pleasure. At seeing me. Me with my fat ass and masses of wavy hair that wouldn’t quite behave. This was a man who would look perfect standing next to super-models. This couldn’t be happening to me. What did he want with me?
The bell over the door tinkled and a group of ladies entered, pushing strollers, some of them with toddlers on their hips. Way to ruin the moment, soccer moms. They looked like they’d just come from yoga.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’m coming back every day until you agree to go out. Got it?”
“No, not in the slightest,” I said through my forced smile. The other customers drew closer, chattering about downward dog. One of the kids started wailing and his mom cuddled him close and stroked his hair.
“I can make you understand.” Gabe leaned in closer, forcing himself into my personal space, even with the counter between us.
“That’s enough,” I hissed, then raised my voice and yelled back into the kitchen. “Tess, come out here please.”
She bustled out, dusting off her apron and scowling. She spotted the mothers and their offspring, and her distaste only grew worse.
“Take care of them, will you? I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said, gesturing to the women.
“Fine, but you know I don’t like to be out front,” she muttered under her breath. “Customers suck.” Tess clapped her hands to draw attention, and the women froze. The toddler kept crying, his sobs filling the uncomfortable silence.
I swept around the counter and grabbed Gabe by the wrist. He seemed amused at the gesture, but he let me lead him out into the crisp winter air.
He stood in front of me, and I turned my back on the bakery so I wouldn’t have to witness Tess dealing with the women inside. It wasn’t five seconds before I started shivering, my warm breath filling the air between us in grey puffs.
“This has to stop.”
“I told you, Allegra. I won’t stop until you agree to see me,” he said as he stepped towards me. Ominous. His physical presence a danger to my equanimity. And sanity.
I refused to take a step back, partly because I longed to be close to him, partly because I didn’t want him to see the extreme effect he had on my body. It was probably too late for that, though. I’d literally gasped when I’d seen him the first time. And I’m sure my attraction for him was written all over my face.
Gabe raised his hand and reached for my shoulder.
I smacked it away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He grinned. “Nothing. I just can’t get you out of my mind. Like an apparition. You visit my dreams. And my fantasies.”
My jaw dropped. Of course, I would never admit to his nightly visits in my own dreams.
“And you think pursuing me this way is going to win me over? You’re being creepy, Gabe. Like a stalker. Coming into my bakery like you own the place, demanding dates, and, uh,” I said, but I’d run out of steam as the frigid air almost froze my blue lips shut and my teeth started chattering. He took his coat and wrapped it around my shivering shoulders.
Rhetoric flew out of my mouth, but I was spitting lies. Falsehoods based in fear and shame. Lack of self-confidence. Self-esteem. In myself and my desirability. I didn’t think he was creepy and I wanted him to demand more. More time, more physical proximity, more me.
Just more.
He acted like a real man, and he smelled like one too. Familiar and warm, and his cologne was…Why did these damn Gucci men always seem to like me? Make me weak in the knees with their expensive scent?
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
“I swear to God, you’re like one of those cheesy dudes out of a movie.” I tapped him on the chest with my finger and instantly regretted it. It didn’t deter him, only made me itch to run my hands down the indents of his abs and then head straight south.
Heat colored my cheeks a rosy hue. Hopefully, he’d think it was from the cold.
“You’d better leave me alone. I’m never going on a date with you. Ever. Do you get that? It’s never going to happen,” I said, not sure who I was trying to convince with my little tirade.
He moved closer, the body heat radiating from us both in the cold temperatures serving as two halves of a magnet. Drawing us closer. Closer. The warmth drove me wild; my mouth went dry. I stared up at him, dwarfed by his size, by his silence.
“Are you done?”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Thank God. I can think of only one way to shut up a woman who talks too much.” He swooped down like a hooded viper and captured my lips in a kiss so searing it bordered on wild. God, those full lips of his, so soft and warm controlled the pace and the pressure. He started to possess my lips with long, drugging kisses, then sucked my bottom lip in his warm mouth as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
I pushed against him, pretending for a second to resist, when really I was already gone. Long gone.
He marched me backwards, out of sight of the door and pressed me against the brick wall of my bakery. Cars sped by in the street; some of them honked their horns at us. Noise barely registered. Like time had stood still for this perfect moment. This perfect, unruly kiss.
I tried to break away and break the spell, but he held me captive. To his smell. To the feel of him pressed against me. To everything.
He parted my lips and captured my tongue, twisting it with his as he increased the pressure, passion overtaking him. Overtaking us both. I tilted my head right and kissed until I gasped for breath.
He stroked my cheek with one hand, then ran it down my neck onto my breast and cupped it, feeling for my nipples under the fabric of my shirt with his thumbs. My nipples erect from the cold or from the man. Or both.
“Wait,” I commanded as I pushed him back an inch. It was like trying to use force to move a mountain. A mountain of muscle and sinew. Through the haze of passion, I slapped my hand against his shoulder. Those eyes, blue orbs of desire, finally focused on my hand. Then on my face.
“I’m sorry. So much for going slow to earn your trust. But when you dragged me out here …”
He leaned his palms against the building and pressed his forehead against mine. I was trapped between his arms. Finally, he pushed off from the bricks and stepped back, the fresh snow crunching beneath the soles of his boots.
“Can we agree to go out now? I promise this won�
��t happen again.” He winked. “Unless you can’t resist me.”
Resist him? Holy mother of God.
“Yeah. Pick me up at the front door to the bakery at eight,” I replied, handed him his coat, then turned and sashayed into the bakery, giving him a view of my round behind and proud of myself for not looking back, even though I wanted to. Damn, did I want to.
Chapter 8
I rested my hand on the table beside my glass of water, secretly hoping he’d grab it again. And touch the sensitive place between my thumb and pointer.
He didn’t.
A perfect gentlemen on his best behavior.
“I’m glad I finally wore you down,” Gabe said, then took a sip from the glass of red the waiter had brought him.
He’d been surprisingly cued up on the different types and names of wines, but I’d already forgotten what this one was. I grasped my glass as well and threw back a few sips. Delicious.
Best. Wine. Ever.
Gabe’s lips curled into a smile over my delight in the vintage he’d chosen.
“What?” I asked, putting the glass back on the table with a soft clink.
“Nothing, I just like the way you do things. Full on. With passion and spirit. It’s authentic. Like you’re not trying to be someone or something else to impress me.” He swirled the fine stem between his fingertips then set down his wine.
He’d brought me to 112 Eatery. The interior was cozy, the brown tables and dark wood floors made me feel at home, even though I was from Atlantic City where the tables were more likely to have markings for chips, vomit and wet rings from sloppy cocktails. We’d moved to Bemidji when I was eleven.
I glanced at the front window and smiled. The snow had started to come down again, pristine flakes layering on top of the slush covered sidewalk. “Are you impressed?”
Gabe grasped my hand and a shock ran through my body. He left the question on the oak table and countered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“About the snow, that’s all.” It was technically a lie. The fact that I shouldn’t be with him had crossed my mind multiple times. Even though he’d just served up a beautiful compliment about my authenticity, this wasn’t me. Allegra Wilson didn’t go out on spur of the moment dinner dates with the hottest men in the city. The men who could have any woman they wanted. The women that were not me.
“Hmmm,” he rumbled, using his free hand to stroke the stubble on his chin. “If you say so.” She admired the sexy edge the days-worth of beard growth gave his face.
“I’m not used to places like this.” I chirped a laugh to cover up what I really thought about the evening. His skin against my skin had brought back that desire; it made me want to grab him across the table and suck the taste of the perfect wine from his perfect lips.
“Not used to them? Surely, other guys have taken you out on dates,” Gabe noticed as he poured more wine for them both.
“You could just ask if I’m seeing anyone else.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he replied, then paused and nodded. “But now that you mention it … are you?”
I drew in a breath and eyed the older couple at the table next to ours. They were lost in their own conversation, holding each other’s hands, leaning towards each other with their heads almost touching.
My girly heart strings twanged at the sight of it.
I turned back to Gabe. “No, not for six months.”
Why did I have to go and admit to a time frame? The words had just popped out. Now it appeared that no one wanted me when in fact, the bakery had monopolized my time for well over a year.
“Six months,” he remarked, drumming his long fingers on the white tablecloth. “That’s a pretty long time.”
I slid my hand away from him and he frowned. “I’m not that popular” I replied, “I don’t get that many invitations when most of my time is spent in the kitchen. Baking.” And even if I had, I still wouldn’t date them. Gabe was one big exception to the rule.
One big blue-eyed, ripped exception.
“I don’t get that many invitations either,” he replied, and raised his palms in mock surrender. Then he winked at her. “Unless you count my Aunt Agnes’s bridge partner. Every week she asks me to take her to the see the Minnesota Orchestra. Says I wouldn’t regret it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please, that line was as delivered as a baby by the stork. I’m not blind; you’re obviously a looker. You probably get a lot of attention. Girls fall all over themselves to get closer to you.” I wondered how many pairs of wet panties had been thrown at his head. Like she’d like to throw the red lace thong she had on right now. She should have worn granny panties, then she wouldn’t be having these thoughts about undergarments in the middle of a crowded eatery.
His expression darkened, eyebrows drawn inwards and down. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Allegra.”
“Call me Ally,” I corrected. “And I wasn’t trying to judge you. It’s just expected. I’m okay with that. It’s not like we’re going to see each other again.” I’d spent the entire night thus far, convincing myself of that. All the way through the fourteen dollar sweet and sour crab salad.
“We will see each other again.” He brushed the back of my hand again.
I flinched and touched the spot his fingers had been. Like my tender flesh had been seared by his gentle touch.
Branded.
“Gabe, I’m really not interested in anything serious. And before you say you’re not either, I’m really not interested in a fling either. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Which kind?”
“The kind who can put feelings aside when the chemistry is hot,” I replied, settling back in the chair to create distance between us. “I’ve never had a one night stand and I never want to. If that makes me old-fashioned and unattractive to you, so be it.”
“Who was he?” Gabe asked, clenching his jaw then releasing it. His expression heated. Like he cared. “Mr. Six-months-ago. The one who obviously fucked you over and made you so bitter.”
“That’s none of your business. And its super off-topic. And … I’m not bitter. I just know what’s good for me.” I flopped my napkin onto the table and rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.” And get the hell out of here. Away from Gabe and the uncomfortable feelings he roused in me. I needed to be one hundred percent on my game because the success of my bakery depended on it. I would not fail at my life. Not again.
He didn’t answer me, just stared at me for a lingering moment, eyes ablaze with desire and something else. An emotion I couldn’t place.
That look haunted me all the way to the bathroom stall. I wished he’d been a complete douche so I could run away. But I’d seen it. I’d seen something in his eyes besides just lust and a desire to get laid. I sat down on the toilet and drew in deep breaths to steady my mind. Resisting him was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. But I did have to.
I had to.
Chapter 9
I would resist.
I sat on the toilet for five minutes, practicing diaphragm breathing and meditation. I’d learned the techniques when the first letter had arrived from Shakopee. From my mother.
I could still remember my tears blurring the black ink, staining the paper. As she begged. Begged me to believe her. Begged me to get her out.
My mind grasped for memories of joy. Of love. As I struggled to slow my pulse and calm my body, those memories never came. Every time I pictured her, it was caged behind bars like a pacing lion. Incarcerated. I’d been twelve before I’d understood what that meant. Now, it took everything I had in me not to mention it. Expose it.
Hidden.
Like she would always be.
Like the heroin she’d kept in every nook and cranny of our efficiency apartment downtown. And every nook and cranny of her body as she muled across the border from California to Tijuana.
I never wanted to be her. I never wanted to feel like I’d failed the people around me as thoroughly
as she had. I could tell from Gabe’s wardrobe, intelligence and carriage that he hadn’t come from the wrong side of the tracks like I had. Once he found out the truth, he’d run. Far away from the girl with the checkered and sordid past. And no family.
A therapist had taken my mother’s place when it came to guidance, which was probably a good thing, since Deidre would’ve probably screwed me up beyond any hope of salvation if she’d been given the chance. I’d probably be high as a giraffe’s ass if not in the penitentiary myself. She still tried to reach out. The letters arrived weekly, like clockwork. They were in a cardboard box in my closet. All unopened except for that very first one. The one that had shattered my junior high school heart into a million pieces.
I placed my palms on my knees and waited another second. My heart had stopped pounding a mile a minute at least. The throbbing in my temples lessened.
I rose and walked out of the stall, then stood in front of the mirror. My light green eyes were wide with fear, and I’d slapped some pale pink lip gloss on my lips, but they trembled. He was out there, waiting for me to come back.
I brushed my long, wavy blonde hair back and smoothed the tight red dress Kelly had dressed me in for the night. It accentuated my curves, kind of making me feel like I was on display. And there was a lot to display. I knew I shouldn’t wear it, but I’d wanted this one night. One night to feel wanted. Beautiful. Desirable. By the only man who’d ever made me feel that way.
I rubbed my arms to calm the gooseflesh because I couldn’t delay this any longer. I had to go back to him, finish the meal and tell him not to bother me again. The only problem being, he wasn’t really a bother. At all.
I wanted him to bother me all over my bedroom. All over my fevered skin.
“Allegra,” I said in my best scolding tone, glad I was alone in the ladies room. I pinched my cheeks for good measure. “You can handle this.”
Then I walked out of the door and back towards our table.
Gabe’s back was to me, and he had his phone out, pressed to his ear. He gestured with his right hand as he spoke.
Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 25
