She nodded, still not saying much.
The knot in his stomach got bigger, harder. Kate wasn’t the kind of woman to hold back. Silence from her was so rare, Jagger had no idea what the fuck to do with it.
“How do you like the color?” he asked.
“The… sorry. What?”
“The red.” He gestured to the walls.
“Oh, I love it. It’s nice.”
“You might want to get someone in here after the event,” he continued, “do another coat or two on these walls. Dark reds like that are difficult to get right—sometimes it streaks. I could have Callaghan give you a few names, if you want. Guys who specialize in paint.”
“What? Oh, right. Sure. Thanks.” Kate nodded again.
For a minute they just stood there, Kate staring at the walls, Jagger staring at Kate, the smell of fresh paint floating on the air between them. Jagger could practically hear it drying on the walls.
This silent treatment thing is bullshit.
“Kate, listen. I—”
“Thank you.” She turned to him, closing the distance between them and throwing her arms around his neck.
Jagger buried his face in her hair and slid his hands up her back. She was so warm, so soft, so… Kate.
She kissed his cheek, then pulled away. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were shiny. “It’s so amazing. It’s… I love it. I really, really love it.”
“Yeah?” Jagger’s breath escaped in a loud whoosh, his face breaking into a grin. He was so relieved, so happy to see that light in her eyes. “I mean, yeah. I do good work. What can I say?”
Laughing, she punched him the arm. “And I’ve got a mean right hook, so watch it.”
“That was a jab. Just sayin’.”
She punched him again. “Don’t push your luck.”
He followed her back to the front counter, double-checking one last time that he’d collected all of his tools while she filled out whatever paperwork she had to do for Callaghan.
“Will I see you at the event?” she asked, her eyes on the paper. “I’ll save you a table, if you’re interested.”
“Pass,” Jagger said. “All that hearts-and-flowers shit ain’t really my thing.”
Kate cracked up. “Well, here’s a confession for you: I freaking hate Valentine’s Day. Mother’s Day, too. Basically, my biggest sales days every year, and I have to fake my way through them every time.”
“Scandalous.”
She looked up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Don’t you tell a soul.”
“Nah.” Jagger made a zipping motion across his lips. “All your secrets are safe with me, Kit-Kat.”
Handing over the paperwork, she said, “You really did an amazing job. I’ll be sure to call Callaghan next week and put in a good word.”
“Yeah? That’d be great. Anything to get on his good side. Thanks a lot.”
“Oh, before I forget—I promised him a week’s worth of free pastries. So before you head out today, go through the case in back and take whatever you think he’d like. There’s a shelf with large white bakery boxes—one of those should do.”
“Sure, no problem. Hey, thanks for the chai cookies,” he said. “They’re still my favorites.”
She’d lowered her eyes again, but she smiled, her cheeks turning pink.
He reached across the counter and grabbed her hand, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. She looked up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, and damn, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to explain, to ask, to tell, to just… to try.
But he didn’t have the right. Not after everything he’d put her through. If Kate had wanted to spend more time with him, she would’ve said so. She was the most direct woman he knew—just like her grandmother. If she wanted something—him—she wouldn’t be sending him out the door today with nothing but a piece of paper and a box of cookies for his boss.
It was that fuckin’ simple.
Jagger sighed, releasing her hand. “I’m really proud of you, Kit-Kat. I mean it.”
She thanked him, then turned back toward the coffee machines, blond hair swishing across her shoulders as she wiped down the steamer nozzles for the fifth time.
Jagger went into the kitchen and packed up the box for Callaghan, stalling for time, but he couldn’t just camp out there all day. Kate had to get ready for tomorrow’s event, and he had to get back to Callaghan, get his next work order, check in with his parole officer. Get back to reality.
Ignoring the pain in his chest, he picked up the box and walked out front. Kate was bent over the counter again, counting bottles of flavored syrups. He looked at her one last time, searing her image into his memory. His heart.
She’s the only damn woman I’ll ever love.
As he turned to leave, she called his name, and he looked up immediately. But whatever she’d wanted to say, she changed her mind, shaking her head instead, leaving him with nothing more than a soft, shy smile.
There was nothing left to do. Nothing left to say. So he gave her one last flash of dimples in return, and then he was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
“But well-rounded non-player characters are as integral to an authentic immersive experience as the world-building. I mean, who wants to spend six months leveling up an avatar only to play with bots, am I right?”
“Oh, totally. Bots—so played out.” Kate forced a smile, refilling the woman’s coffee before being called away by the adjacent table, a trio of elves hitting on a trio of dwarves. Their love match may be doomed, but they were desperately in need of more salted caramel cheesecake, and that was a crisis she could solve.
“Be right back with that.” Kate scurried into the kitchen to dish up their order, trying not to get overwhelmed by the random bits of conversation floating in from all directions.
She had no idea there were so many gamers in the city looking for love.
She had no idea they could talk so much, either.
“This one time, in Death Machine Seven, I was down to one health pack and…”
“Game theory is where it’s at. I’m telling you, corporations are getting on board with this, and if they actually start implementing it…”
“I don’t care how kickass the warrior princess is. No one can fall on her breastplate like that without breaking her sternum. They need more realistic body armor, or Zombie Pirate Queen is dead on release…”
Kate got the cheesecake in order, grabbed a plate of cranberry scones for another table, and headed back out into the fray. It was standing room only at the bakery, and the fire marshal had already stopped in twice to do a head count, warning her about maximum capacity. People were lined up out the door, waiting to get inside. The FierceConnect CEO, Jared Blackwell, had both his business partner and his fiancé manning the door, only letting people enter as others left.
The joint, as they say, was hoppin’.
Kate was so busy, she didn’t even have time to think about Jagger. Much. Only when people complimented her on how beautifully the expansion turned out. And when she adjusted the lighting without having to step over tables full of customers. And when she rushed into the serving alcove with trays full of used mugs in each hand, and the lights magically lit the path before her. And whenever someone ordered the Gingerbread Bliss, bringing her right back to that moment on the counter, when he’d finally kissed her again after all those years…
“Kate, how are you holding up?” Jared Blackwell flashed his confident smile, his hand warm on her shoulder. She set her tray down on the front counter, grateful for an excuse to stop and catch her breath.
“Great,” she said. “Busy, but this is awesome. I never expected so many people.”
“Everything is absolutely lovely,” he said. “You’ve done an incredible job. I think we should make this a regular affair, don’t you?”
Kate nodded, excitement bubbling in her chest.
“You up for another quick interview?” he asked. “Channel Seven is here, and they�
�re dying to meet the woman behind Sweet Bliss.”
Smoothing out her hair and squaring her shoulders, Kate smiled. “Absolutely.”
Jared and his fiancé, Arianne, were attending the event to help draw some publicity, a tactic that had paid off. Kate had given three different interviews already, and she’d handed out more business cards than she could count.
He waved over a heavily made-up woman and her cameraman, politely nudging a few customers out of the way. After gushing about the huge turnout and the delicious sweets, the reporter asked her a few questions about how she got her start, what her favorite recipes were, and what her plans for the future were. Kate answered them with ease—she’d been doing some variation of this interview all day.
They were just about to wrap up when the interviewer hit her with a sucker punch.
“Love is certainly in the air at Sweet Bliss Bakery and Café,” she said. “So what about you, Kate Molina. Is there a special Valentine in your life?”
Her stomach bottomed out. She should’ve seen the question coming—it was Valentine’s Day, after all, and she was hosting a matchmaking event—but she was blindsided by it. Immediately her mind flashed to Jagger, and it was all she could do not to cry.
Why had she pulled away after that night in Red Hook? Everything had felt so good, so right in his arms. But then she just freaked out. It was as if it felt too good to be true, and if she let herself get close to him again, she’d push too hard. He’d run. Or she’d shut down, and he’d pull away. Or any of the other thousands of crash-and-burn scenarios her overreacting brain served up that night the moment the glow of her orgasm had started to recede.
This time, she was the one who’d run. Snuck out of there like a thief in the night.
Oh, the irony.
Kate and Jagger had been madly in love once, and obviously, the passion between them hadn’t faded a bit. If she’d given it a chance instead of running away, could they have fallen for each other again? Rekindled that old fire, built it into something even stronger and brighter?
Guess you’ll never know now.
No, she did know. It wouldn’t—couldn’t work. They didn’t know each other—not anymore. The people they used to be were gone now. They’d both grown up and changed, maybe in ways that were completely incompatible.
Once, Kate had believed they were soul mates. And maybe if things had gone differently—if both of them had made different choices along the way—they’d still be together.
But they hadn’t. And she’d have to make her peace with that, once and for all. She’d had her reunion with Jagger, and it had been hot as hell.
Then she’d said her goodbye. Her way, her terms.
Now it was time to move on. To look to the future.
“Kate?” the reporter asked, yanking her back to the present.
“Um… no.” Kate’s heart slammed against her ribs, but she held her smile firmly in place. “My work is my Valentine.”
The reporter laughed. “Maybe that’s for the best. From the looks of things, Sweet Bliss will be keeping you busy for a long time to come.”
Kate kept her smile in place as the reporter wrapped up the segment and thanked her for the interview. She kept it in place as she continued to serve up her pastries and coffee drinks, running back and forth between the kitchen, the coffee bar, and the back room. And, after the craziness finally died down, after the FierceConnect execs had bid her farewell, after the last of the dwarves and elves and pirate princesses and media had finally called it a night, after Kate’s back and feet finally threatened to go on strike, she was still rockin’ that smile.
By all accounts, the event had been a major success. She’d sold out of nearly everything, booked enough bridal showers and birthdays to keep her busy for the rest of the year, and fielded inquiries about all sorts of other events, including major offsite catering gigs. Sweet Bliss had been all over the local news, and she’d gotten a text from Georgie that their social media mentions were through the roof.
It was everything she’d dreamed of—and so much more than she’d dared to hope for.
But way down deep, behind the coffee-stained apron and the grateful smile and the tired muscles, there was a bruised heart with Jagger-shaped hole smack in the middle, and every time it beat, she ached for him a little more.
Chapter Eighteen
After a day managing the most intense social event she’d ever experienced, Kate was finally alone in the bakery, sitting in her favorite booth by the window with her hands wrapped around a mug full of cappuccino.
It was ten o’clock on Valentine’s Day night, and across the street, the Irish pubs of Woodside were in full swing, couples stumbling out through the doors, arm-in-arm, laughing and kissing, the night young and full of lusty possibilities.
Kate leaned her head back in the booth. The only lusty possibilities that interested her at the moment were the three Gingerbread Bliss cupcakes she was about to slam her face into—the only dessert she’d managed to salvage after today’s blockbuster event.
She’d certainly earned those cupcakes.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” she said, grabbing the first one and taking a decidedly unladylike bite. She snarfed it down, kid-style, cream cheese frosting all over her mouth and nose.
“Fuck yeah,” she said, her mouth full of cake. “Bring it on, bitches.”
She took a different approach with cupcake number two, delicately licking off all the frosting first, her tongue swirling around the cake until she was certain she’d licked it clean.
“I like my cupcakes how I like my men,” she said. “Lickable and naked. Ha!”
She stuffed that one into her mouth, too. She didn’t care that she was alone in a bakery on the so-called most romantic night of the year, amusing herself with cupcake jokes. She didn’t care that her bakery was still decked out in pink and red paper hearts that made her gag every time she looked at them.
Right now, all she cared about were her cupcakes.
She set the third one in front of her, eyeing it up, trying to decide how to devour it. Kneeling on the seat and leaning over the table, she opened her mouth wide, lowering herself over the cupcake, laughing at her antics. She could just imagine what Georgie would say.
You need some serious therapy, girl. The expensive kind. And probably some good drugs, too.
She was about two seconds away from deep-throating a cupcake of her own making when her phone buzzed on the table, jolting her out of her perverse mood.
Settling back into the booth, she glanced over at the screen, figuring it was another media call or someone wanting to book a party.
“We’re closed,” she snapped. But when she saw the name on the screen, her heart stopped.
She nearly knocked over her cappuccino to grab the phone, answering it after the first buzz.
“Hey,” Jagger said. “You still at the bakery?”
“Just sat down for some…” Kate looked around the table, crumbs and frosting everywhere. “…coffee. Are you in the neighborhood? Do you want to stop by? I’ll make night coffee.”
“Thought you were already having coffee,” he said.
“I’ll make more. I own a coffee shop. I can make pots and pots of the stuff.”
She knew she sounded desperate, but that’s exactly how she felt. She’d been wrong to let him go before, wrong to pretend that their night together hadn’t mattered. That all the words they’d shared hadn’t made a difference.
After that conversation, that wild night, everything was different.
“That’s okay,” he said. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full over there.”
“No, I’m—”
“Listen, sorry to bug you so late, but I think I forgot my tape measure. Can you check the back room for me?”
Tape measure? He’s calling about a tape measure?
Kate’s heart sank like a stone.
No. She had to talk to him. He might run away again, but that was a chance she’d hav
e to take.
Jagger had told her that leaving her that night eight years ago was his biggest regret. Well, if she didn’t tell him the truth about how she was feeling, this would become hers.
Shoring up her courage, she took a deep breath. “Jagger, I want—”
“Two seconds, then I’m outta your hair again. Come on, Kate.”
Kit-Kat, she wanted to say. But the moment was gone, taking her courage with it.
“Fine. Give me a sec.” She set the phone on the table and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, willing herself not to cry.
Everything will be okay. You got through it before, you’ll get through it again. You got your answers. Said your goodbyes. Move on. You’re free.
The platitudes didn’t help, but she took a deep breath and put on a brave face anyway, climbing out of the booth and heading into the back room.
“I lost my precious little tape measure,” she mocked, grumbling every step of the way. “And I really need it, too, so I can stand around all day measuring my—”
“Measuring my what?”
The voice stopped her cold.
“No, please go on,” he teased. “I’d love to hear the rest of your impersonation. It’s not that bad. Not that good, either, but still. Don’t stop making fun of me on my account.”
Kate couldn’t help herself. She cracked up, slowly raising her eyes.
And there, standing in the middle of the room holding a ginormous heart-shaped box of chocolates and a big bouquet of flowers still wrapped in plastic, was Jagger Barnes.
He looked completely, adorably, ridiculous.
“If you’re looking for a love match,” she said, “sorry to rain on your Valentine’s parade, but the event is over.”
“Well I was looking,” he said, taking a step toward her. “But it turns out there aren’t many girls in this city who can bake chai cookies, boss me around, and laugh their assess off after they come. Sorry, but those are deal-breakers for me.”
“Hmm. That’s a shame. So you’re single?”
Bad Boy Valentine (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 2) Page 11
