His Sweet Fix

by Sofia Grey

  “I’m sure you’re dying to ask.” His voice sounded resigned. “I wrecked my car last year, and smashed my leg in the process. It wasn’t a clean break, and I had surgery to put pins in, but it’s still not healed.”

  “Ouch. Is there anything else they can do?” A thought struck me. “Was the accident with the truck? It looks fine.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Nah. I had a car as well. It was a beaut. A seventy-six Camaro.”

  “Had?” I echoed. “Was it a write-off?”

  “Yeah. Just had new tires and shocks too.” He huffed a sigh. “I thought I was fucking invincible. What a joke.”

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “So”—he shifted in his seat and faced me—“how did you get into the cake business?”

  I flashed him a smile. This was a nice, easy question. “I worked in IT but hated office work. I started out baking for my friends—parties and so on—and then I took the plunge and went into it full time.” I shrugged.

  “It’s cool to run your own business. You like it better?”

  “Mostly. I mean, I love the creativity and the baking process itself. I like making something out of nothing, and everyone loves cake. I enjoy making people happy.” It sounded trite, and I winced inside, but he didn’t smirk or anything.

  “More fun than IT.” He nodded. “I couldn’t work in an office, either. I’m dyslexic, which doesn’t help. I’m one of the few people grateful for autocorrect on the phone.”

  “How did you cope when you were laid up? Without losing yourself in a good book, I mean?”

  “God. When I was first in the hospital, I was bored stiff, with nothing to do. Then Hol brought my laptop in and made sure I had a supply of TV shows and movies.”

  “Do you have any other family? Or aren’t they local?”

  “Hey, I love this song.” He stuck his hand toward the radio but paused. “Mind if I turn it up?”

  “Go for it.”

  The volume rose enough to make conversation difficult, but while Jasper tapped his knee, it didn’t seem to be in time to the music. Was this a clumsy subject change?

  Chapter Twelve

  I found a parking space close to the first property, and set off with Jasper to meet the agent. He was shiny-haired, with brilliant white teeth and a limp handshake that put me on edge.

  It wasn’t apparent from the listing, but this unit was in a building only recently reopened after earthquake repairs. It occupied a space on the ground floor, which was good, and it hadn’t been damaged like the upper floors, but it had been closed for over five months. Not only was it filthy, but there was also the pungent odor of something rotting.

  “A couple of hours’ cleaning, and it’ll be good as new.” The agent beamed at me. “You’re first in the line to see this, by the way. If you pass on it, someone else will snap it up.”

  “They’re welcome to it.”

  Jasper snorted with laughter at my curt words, but turned it into a cough, and we headed outside into the late afternoon sunshine.

  “God. That was terrible,” I said. “Was it me, or could you smell Eau de Dead Rat?”

  “And there was me, thinking it was Mr. Slimey’s after shave.”

  His words tickled me, and I chuckled, then laughed properly. “Did you see his face when I told him what I thought? Who in their right mind is going to rent that place?”

  Jasper stared at me, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looked so delicious, standing there bathed in sunlight, that I longed to hug him again, but this time I resisted. No more throwing myself at him. I was a bit of distraction for his recuperation, and he couldn’t see me any other way.

  “I can’t figure you out, Caitlin.”

  Anxiety nudged at me, but I swallowed it down. “How do you mean?”

  He cocked his head to one side. “When you’re talking business, you’re confident. You take no shit. So why aren’t you like that all the time?”

  His insight hit too close to home, and I struggled to respond. “Wow. That’s deep.”

  “Sorry.” He looked at his watch. “Maybe we should get moving.”

  The second property was easily ten minutes’ walk from here, and I wondered how difficult it would be for Jasper. “Maybe we should move the car and try to find a space closer?”

  His face shuttered, and he turned around, stick firmly in hand. “Don’t fuss. I can walk.”

  “Okay.” I matched my pace to his, and we set off down the street. I hoped this next place would be good. It couldn’t be any worse. It was a nicer street, with more foot traffic, and the businesses around it gave off a lovely vibe. My heart lifted. I could be back in business in a matter of days.

  The realtor waited for us at the bottom of a set of stairs. This guy was short and balding, and greeted us with a scowl on his face. “You’re late,” he said, when I introduced myself. “I can only let you have five minutes before the next viewing.”

  What? I checked my notes. “We’re right on time.”

  He crossed his arms. “Five minutes.”

  “Okay.” To my surprise, he headed up the stairs, and I paused. “This is supposed to be a ground-floor unit.”

  “You must have seen an early version of the ad. It’s a second-floor property. Are you coming?” He looked pointedly at his phone. “I have another viewing in a few minutes.”

  I wasn’t thrilled at two flights of stairs, but it was still worth looking at. I glanced at Jasper. His frown matched the agent’s.

  “You go first,” Jasper snapped. “I’ll follow you up.”

  “Why don’t you wait here for me?”

  “Thanks. I’m not a fucking invalid.”

  Ouch. I’d found another hot button. I held up my hands, to apologize, and then scuttled off to follow the agent.

  Forty-eight steps later, my lungs were burning and my legs felt shaky. That was more like four flights than two. “Is there an elevator?”

  “It’s being serviced.”

  Great. At least I made it, even if I wheezed like an arthritic tortoise. I hoped Jasper would be okay, or that he’d realize he was being dumb and wait downstairs.

  “Here we are.” The agent threw open the door and stepped inside, doing a funny little turn and stomp as he did so.

  “What was that?” My voice came out as a croak.

  “What?”

  I gestured to his feet. “Did you just stomp on something?”

  He ignored my question and waved toward the kitchen area. This place was clean, and painted recently, with good natural light. I walked to the double oven and crouched down, to look closer.

  Something moved behind the glass door. There was something inside the oven.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what. Jasper thought I was confident, but it was an act. I quaked at the thought of saying something.

  “Well?” asked the agent. He hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Do you want it?”

  It was nice on the surface, but doubt niggled at me. I grasped the oven door handle, clicked it open, and peeked inside.

  The biggest cockroach I ever saw waved its feelers at me. I squealed like a little kid and slammed the door shut.

  “What’s the matter?” The agent sounded bored. “If you’re not interested, let me know.”

  I approached him and pointed at the white, tiled floor. “Lift up your foot, please.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I raised my voice. “I want to see if you killed a roach, and if it’s as big as the one living in the oven. The oven, for Christ’s sake. Where I plan to cook food that I want to sell. A freaking cockroach.”

  “You only get roaches in clean environments.”

  “I don’t care. Raise your foot.”

  He made an irritated noise with his tongue and stepped aside. I was right. There was no way I’d rent this place. I spun on my toe and headed down the stairs.

  “There’s nothing else in this part of town,” he called. “This is premium floorspace.”

 
“Premium dump, more like it.” I almost barged into Jasper on the way down, and apologized profusely. I had to get outside. The thought of cockroaches in the kitchen made my skin crawl.

  “Another no?” Jasper had made it half way up, and I didn’t know whether to feel guilty at the effort he put in, or furious at the agent for trying to lease such a dump.

  I decided on angry. “It’s a hell no.”

  “Your girlfriend is highly strung, mate,” said the agent, and I froze in my tracks. How would Jasper reply?

  Come to that, how on earth did the agent assume he was my boyfriend? Someone as gorgeous as Jasper would never be with a lard-ass like me.

  Jasper scowled, and my heart sank to somewhere near my shoes. Time for another dose of humiliation?

  “Watch out with the name calling,” he said in an icy tone.

  I picked up my pace and reached the ground floor in moments. I sat on the bottom step and waited for my heart to stop racing. Jesus. The agent was right. There was nowhere else, apart from the ridiculously overpriced property in Oriental Bay. So which did I go for? Five months of filth, or cockroaches having a party in the oven? I shuddered.

  Neither.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face. Get a grip, Caitlin. There will be other properties. Better ones.

  Jasper clumped down the last steps, to stand next to me, and I looked up at him. Yep, I felt guilty now. His face was pale and tight, and I could tell by his white knuckles that he was in pain.

  “Are we too late? Did someone else get it?” He snarled the words.

  “What? No.”

  “It looks good through the doorway. You don’t have to be nice to me, Caitlin. If I made you late, tell me. I’ll plead with the agent to reconsider.”

  He thought it was his fault I wasn’t taking the property? “You didn’t make me late. I don’t like the idea of sharing with cockroaches. And no, that’s not code for anything.”

  He opened his eyes wide. “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “If you weren’t driving, I’d suggest we get a drink now.”

  It was my turn to snort with laughter, tension ebbing out of me. “I knew I liked you, Jasper.” I echoed his words back to him, and saw a smile emerge. “How does coffee sound instead?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was an attractive cafe on the other side of the road, and we claimed seats in the front window. I was curious to see if the realtor had anyone else lined up to see the unit. We’d only just placed our orders when a couple of middle-aged women turned up and greeted him at the door.

  I quirked my eyebrows at Jasper. “How long do you think they’ll stay?”

  “You lasted around two minutes in El Roach. They don’t look as highly strung as you.” His smirk was innocent, and I pointed at him.

  “One minute per bug. You didn’t see them.”

  This banter was fun. My brothers might be giant pains in the ass, but they had the same quick wit, and I fell back into familiar, playful patterns with Jasper.

  “We need to allow them time to get up the stairs,” said Jasper, consulting his watch—a complicated thing with dials and buttons. “You think they’ll be there by now?”

  They looked fitter than me. “Yup.”

  “Game on.” We stared out the window and waited. It didn’t take long. The first woman emerged, looking shocked, while the second appeared to be arguing with the agent.

  “Two minutes and forty-seven seconds,” said Jasper. “Approximately.” He winked at me and leaned back in his seat. “That settles it. Far more chilled out than you.”

  Any smart reply was forgotten when the two women walked into the cafe. I waved to them. “Hey. You viewed the place across the street?”

  The first one stopped and turned to me. “Yes. Oh my. Are you the couple that saw it before us?”

  I avoided looking at Jasper, to see how he took the couple assumption, and instead, held out my hand. “El Roach? Yes, that was us. I think you lasted slightly longer than me.”

  “Dear God.” The woman clasped my hand. “It was like Bug Paradise. It needs fumigating before they let anyone else in.”

  They joined us for coffee and introduced themselves as Helen and Trish, cheesecake manufacturers and proprietors of A Slice of Heaven. We swapped horror stories, and they told us how they were looking to expand from their current unit, but unlike me, were in no hurry. Jasper joined the conversation, and we spent a pleasant half-hour before they had to leave.

  “You ready to face the journey home?” I asked.

  “We may as well check out the Oriental Bay one first. It’s in business at the moment, so we can pretend to be customers, and we don’t need to book an appointment.”

  “I can’t afford it.”

  “Eh. It’s like window shopping. And it’s on the way home. Almost.”

  I insisted that Jasper wait in the café for me to fetch the car, and despite his scowl, skipped out before he could move. He stood on the pavement when I returned, and climbed stiffly into the passenger seat.

  “Looks like there’s a storm blowing in,” he said, and gestured at the dark clouds scudding across the sky. The weather was prone to rapid changes in the winter, and the temperature had dropped several degrees. I was surprised today was dry so far.

  As we parked in Oriental Bay, ten minutes later, the first heavy drops of rain were splatting against the pavement. We only had to cross the road to the property, currently a catering business. The moment we walked in, the heavens opened.

  “Be right with you,” called someone from behind the counter, and I took the opportunity to look around the reception area. It was perfect. Huge windows looked over the bay, and on a sunny day, it would be filled with natural light. It was bigger than my old place, too. There was enough room for a small table with four chairs and a comfy looking sofa. And not a bug in sight.

  When I explained our reason for visiting, the manager showed me around the kitchen, and I took in the immaculate food prep areas and sparkling double oven. It was the property of my dreams, but sadly about as realistic. Even if I swallowed my pride and asked Bruce for a loan, it would only tide me over for a few months.

  I’d have to significantly increase my turnover in order to pay the rent, and that came with no guarantee. Distressing as it was to leave my Thorndon unit, I would be heartbroken if I moved in here and then couldn’t afford to stay.

  “This is the luxury Mercedes option,” I muttered to Jasper as we left. “I’ll be lucky to snag a beat-up panel van.”

  He nudged me with his shoulder. The gesture was comforting. “It’s not over. I don’t hear no fat lady singing.”

  I paused in my step. Did he just call me fat? “Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

  “Wait.” He placed a hand on my elbow and spun me to face him. “Independence Day. The movie. Will Smith?”

  My cheeks heated at his intense gaze. “The one with the aliens?”

  “Well duh.” He narrowed his eyes. For a second, he was silent. “You’re worrying me, Caitlin. I was misquoting one of my favorite flicks, and you didn’t get the reference. We need to have a Will Smith movie night soon. Independence Day, Men in Black, maybe even iRobot. What do you say?”

  I felt absurdly relieved he wasn’t poking fun at me. “Umm... okay?”

  “You’re going to say you don’t like Sci-Fi, next.” He let go of my arm and opened the door for me. I walked straight into the icy rain, Jasper on my heels. The cold took my breath away but meant I didn’t need to reply. I’d been a Rom-Com movie girl up to now, but Sci-Fi could be fun with Jasper.

  Thank God it was only a few yards to my car. If I were on my own, I’d dash there, but I didn’t want to leave Jasper behind or push him to hurry. I had the key in my hand, and jabbed at the button for the locks as we reached it.

  Jasper tugged open the passenger door, but then paused. “Hang on,” he said and lurched away from the car, toward the low sea wall.

  What no
w? I waited and peeked over the roof of the car to see what he was doing. “You okay?” I called to him, but he ignored me. I was soaked already. A little more rain wouldn’t hurt. I walked around to the front and saw a small black puppy galloping along, lead trailing behind it in the puddles.

  “Here, boy,” crooned Jasper. “Come here. Let me help you.”

  The puppy diverted toward him, and he bent over and stretched out for the lead. At the last second, the hound swerved and darted between Jasper’s legs.

  Before I could reach him, he swore and crashed to the ground with a muffled grunt.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I darted to Jasper’s side as the dog owner ran up and grabbed her puppy. Jasper sprawled on the wet ground in a half-sitting position, his head bowed.

  “Oh my God,” cried the woman, hunkering down at his side. “I am so, so sorry. Are you okay? Let me help you up.” She reached for his hand.

  “No.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out noisily. “I need a minute.”

  “I can’t leave you here. It’s my fault. I was putting on my gloves, and Chewie tugged free. Thank you for catching him. I was terrified he’d run into the road.” She spoke rapidly, and I couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Tall and skinny, she wore Lycra jogging pants and running shoes, with an expensive-looking hooded top. She looked the way I wanted to.

  “As in Chewbacca?” Jasper lifted his chin.

  “Yes. Like his namesake, this Chewie is always looking for trouble.”

  “Cute.”

  “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Jasper and Ms. Athletic were bonding over a stupid film after she’d knocked him over. Any minute now, she’d be inviting him home for dinner.

  Jasper’s gaze locked onto me. “Caitlin, could you pull me up?” He held out a hand, and I took it, grateful to be needed.

  The dog-walking, Star-Wars-loving jogger hovered at his side, clearly waiting for an opportunity to take over, but I braced myself for his weight, and he slowly came to his feet.

  His face was white, his mouth a tight line. He must have really hurt himself. Did he need a doctor? The hospital? As I stood dithering, he slipped one arm across my shoulders and leaned against me. Aha. That was why he wanted me to help. Ms. Pretty-Jogger looked as substantial as a willow sapling.