by Cat Mason
Pulling up in front of Sweets by Sienna, I do my best to ignore the pang in my chest at the mangled look of the place I have put my heart into, long before it was little more than a sketch and a dream. It hurts knowing that someone thought they could destroy what I have worked so hard to build with a brick and a couple of hate-filled words scribbled on a piece of paper. Though, as easy as it would be to let it get to me, I won’t. I can’t. I have busted my ass, and sacrificed too goddamn much to let anything come between me and continuing to open these doors each day.
Besides, giving into that means that they’ve won. Yet another thing I refuse to let happen.
Not wasting any time, I head into the kitchen, blast the stereo, and get to work on rolling and working the dough for the donuts we make fresh every morning for our standing orders and to fill our display case. It doesn't take long before I have boxes filled for the police department and fire station, along with the trays ready to go out front. It feels good to stay busy, even if my mind continues to race while my hands are hard at work. My thoughts are not on the damage to the bakery, or even the amount of shit waiting for me to deal with at the police station when I head over there later. As my mind begins to drift, my every thought is swiftly occupied by Matt.
I don't know what to think. Things have moved so fast between he and I and I am reeling to catch up and make sense of it. He seems so damn sure of every move he makes. It’s infuriating at times. As much as I enjoy the way he makes me feel, when he isn't being a bossy pain in the ass and driving me insane, I have to admit that he scares the hell out of me. Part of being able to maintain so much control in my life is not allowing people in that have the potential to disturb the balance. Or hurt me. Even this early on, I can see that Matt has the ability to do both. The way we click when we are together, that feeling I get when he is near, like I have known him all my life, has caused me to let my guard down without even realizing it at times. Enough so that I have placed trust in him that I have given willingly to very few people in my life, and never to anyone this soon.
And now with more and more of my control being taken from me, I am beginning to feel helpless; like it is impossible for me to hold onto anything.
The truth that has left my mind spinning is I haven’t known Matt any real length of time at all. Yet, he has managed to become a fixture in my life already. And a welcomed one at that. At least for the most part. This is partly because, oddly enough, even when bossy, alpha, smartass Matt shows up, he still manages to look like sex on a stick while doing everything he can to prove he is right, or outmaneuver me, so that I have no choice other than to bend to his will.
This sort of steam-rolling, intense insta-relationship should come with some kind of goddamn warning label.
And maybe some flashing lights.
Putting the finishing touches on the last few eclairs on the tray in front of me, I lift it into my arms and head up front, eager to get it into the display case with everything else. Glancing at the clock, I smile proudly to myself when I see that not only did I manage to get everything done on time, I have ten minutes to spare. Lowering the volume on the stereo to a more pleasing level for customers, I take my last few minutes to give the counters and table a good wipe down before flipping on the open sign.
It doesn’t take long after opening for business that I realize how much I underestimated how busy the shop would be this morning. If anything, there is more traffic coming and going than ever before. I can only assume that word has gotten around town about what happened yesterday, and a nice chunk of my business today is nosy locals sniffing around for some juicy details. Not that I expected any less, especially with Tessa in bed with nothing better to do than blow up social media with her very detailed and dramatic account of the last twenty-four hours.
It also doesn’t keep me from having to retell the story in my own words at least a dozen times myself.
It’s okay. The money spends the same either way.
As repetitive as repeating vague story matter becomes, I try to keep my focus on boxing orders and attempt to change the subject whenever possible. I receive plenty of opinions, supportive smiles, and even a few offers to kick Jimmy’s ass. Admittedly, those make me laugh.
Though I declined her offer to help, Kelsie is a suborn asshole and showed up around two hours after we opened. Putting on an apron, she made it very clear that she was here to help and I was going to have to get over it. With the crowd I was trying to manage, I wasn’t in any position to argue. Instead, I nodded my head and got my ass back to work.
It isn’t until after eleven that we finally catch a break. With Kelsie offering to handle clean up, I take the time to put in a call to the insurance adjuster about my window. Thankfully, the company I use is unbelievably professional and promise to get to work immediately on pushing my claim through so that I can get the repairs done as soon as possible.
Instead of firing up the ovens and knocking out the baking I need to do for tomorrow, I grab my things and shut off the kitchen lights. “Kels, we need to head down and see if they’ve set bail for Briggs.”
“No need to put yourself out, lovely,” the unmistakable voice of Sway echoes from out front.
Stepping through the doorway, I spot him standing beside the counter with Briggs, a million-dollar smile spreading across his face. “You bailed her out?” I ask, my gaze shooting between the two of them.
“Honey, I took myself right down to the station first thing this morning and demanded she be released,” he says, shouldering the most beautiful blue and gold handbag I have ever seen. “I’m a lover, not a fighter; but even I would’ve taken a swing at that horrible man.”
“Well,” I mutter, shrugging my shoulders. “There’s your defense strategy, B.”
“Defense strategy my ass,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Little pussy told McKnight he would consider dropping the charges as long as I agree to pay for the damages.” Walking around the counter, she opens the display case, grabbing the last cupcake from the tray. Taking a bite, rolls her eyes. “And publicly apologize to him,” she snorts out a laugh. “Me, apologize? Like anyone’s going to believe that shit.”
“That’s okay,” Kelsie shrugs. “I’m sure he’s used to women faking it.” Her eyes shoot to me, a smirk playing on her lips. “Right, Sienna?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Not having that conversation. Ever.”
“Agreed,” Sway says, waving his hand dismissively. “No sense dwelling in the past when you’ve got that kind of heat sizzling between your sheets at night,” he adds, gesturing to where Matt is crossing the street and heading our way.
“Naked sleepovers with Hunk P.D.?” Inhaling the last bite of her cupcake, Briggs waggles her brows. “Do you spend the entire time in bed?”
“Nope,” Kelsie tosses out with a wink. “There’s also the kitchen island and the shower.”
“Oh God,” I groan, feeling my face flame.
“There it is,” Sway says, fanning himself dramatically. “All that heat.”
“Please tell me he knows how to roll his R’s,” Briggs says, waggling her brows. “You know you’ve found a good one when they can do that.”
“I hate you,” I bite out.
“Jesus doesn’t like a liar, Sienna,” Briggs says smiling smugly. “Neither do I.”
“I’ll be sure and pray about that,” I blurt as the bells jingle above the door. “You know how I hate disappointing the big man.”
Matt steps inside, his eyes landing on me immediately. Instead of his uniform, he is wearing dark wash jeans and a faded gray t-shirt that stretches tightly over every inch of hard muscle. “Hey. Who are we disappointing?” he asks, his brows knitting together.
“God,” I blurt, shrugging my shoulders. “Turns out, I’m driving the party bus to hell because of my sexual dishonesty.”
“Ah,” he nods. “Guess I’m riding shotgun?”
“Mhm,” Briggs and Sway hum in unison. Sway’s brow quirk
s. “How fluent are you in Spanish?”
“Don’t answer that!” I blurt, throwing up my hand and flipping off all three of them as they have their laugh at our expense. “You hungry?” I ask Matt, attempting to change the subject. “There’s peanut butter banana bread in the kitchen.”
“Is that code for sex?” Kelsie asks, making Briggs and Sway laugh harder.
Patting at his damp eyes, Sway clears his throat. “Ah, as much as I’d love to pull up a chair and bask in the scorching sexual tension and x-rated bilingual innuendo, I’ve got a lunch date with a hunk of my own that I can’t be late for,” he announces, striding toward the door. Blowing a kiss our way, he gives us a little wave. “You know where to find me, ladies.”
“Bye, Sway,” the three of us girls say in unison. “Thanks,” Briggs adds.
Waving us off, he stops beside Matt. “You just suck the air out of every room you walk into, don’t you?” he asks, reaching out and patting his cheek. Not waiting for an answer, he swings open the door and heads down the street, strutting like the runway model he should have been.
Looking confused and sexy as hell, Matt scratches his stubble-covered jaw. “Was that a compliment?”
“Did I hear you say there’s bread in the kitchen?” Kelsie asks, rubbing her hands together.
“Mhm,” Briggs replies, nodding thoughtfully. “Pretty sure it was peanut butter banana.”
“I’m thinking we need to see to that,” Kelsie says, nodding thoughtfully.
“I’d say you’re right. The food is shit in prison,” Briggs giggles, already heading for the doorway. “McKnight ordered dinner from that shitty burger joint on Elm last night. That doof covered everything in coleslaw and hot sauce.”
“And they arrested you,” Kelsie gasps, following right behind her. “The nerve of some people.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Briggs counters loudly as pans and trays begin banging around in the kitchen.
“Oh please,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “She was detained overnight in a holding cell. Hope Town isn’t Alcatraz.”
“The conditions in holding are horrible.” Laughing, Matt slides his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “They let McKnight control the television. He has a tiny obsession with some reality show about the Alaskan bush.”
“You’re kidding!” I gasp in mock horror.
“I wish I was,” he sighs, his top lip twisting into a smile. “Last time I tried to check the basketball scores, I nearly lost a finger.”
“The Alaskan bush?” I ask.
“Yeah!” Briggs yells, peeking her head out the door. “Don’t let the title fool you either, it has nothing to do with porn.”
“Disappointed much?” I snort, glancing over at her.
“Bite me.” Shoving a chunk of bread into her mouth, she flips me off before ducking back into the kitchen again.
“Pass!” I shout, laughing because I know I am getting both of her middle fingers this time, even if I can’t see them through the wall.
Matt’s fingers brush my chin, tipping my face up to kiss my lips. “You need any help today?” he asks, his mouth softly brushing over mine.
“You bake?” I ask, looking up into his eyes.
“Not even a little bit,” he replies honestly. “I’m a pretty great dish washer though.”
“Is that so?” I study him skeptically. “You do realize I don’t wash them all by hand, right?” I inform him, since there are two heavy duty dish washers in back that get as much of a work out as my ovens. “Besides, you’re not that great at taking orders, are you?”
His lips twitch. “We have that in common.”
“Do we?”
“Yeah, babe. We do.” His hands drop to my ass, palming it through the fabric of my dress. “So take advantage. Because the kitchen is the only place you’ll be bossing me around.”
“If you say so.” I think of the alternatives. Doing everything myself would result in me being here well into the night. I also don’t buy his little comment for a minute. I remember all too well how bossy he was in my kitchen the night we went to Heavy’s. A shiver rushes down my spine, sending a surge of desire flooding through my body.
“Sienna?” he asks, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip.
“Hmm?” I ask, parting my lips enough to nip the tip of it with my teeth. His eyes darken immediately.
“I suggest we get our asses to work,” he warns, his voice thick and hungry. He leans in, brushing his lips over my ear. “Or you’ll be pressed up against that display case with my face between your legs. I don’t give a fuck who sees or hears.”
My body damn near convulses on the spot. Pulling back, Matt meets my eyes, a devilish smile spreading across his gorgeous face. Releasing his hold on me, he brings his hand down hard on my ass. “Later,” he says, the one word igniting a fire in me that I have no hope of putting out.
Chapter 14
Sienna
“Any word on when I can get the hell out of this dump?” Tessa asks the nurse, who is busy checking her blood pressure. “All these sick, old people work on my nerves.”
“Doc wants to watch your vitals a bit longer,” the nurse replies sweetly. “Use the time to your advantage. Try to relax and get some rest.”
“I haven’t spent this much time in bed since my honeymoon,” Tessa grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest when the nurse finishes. Arching her brow, she shoots the nurse a spiteful glare. “At least then I had eight inches of mouthwatering incentive keeping me on my back.”
Grabbing her things, the nurse hightails it out of the room as fast as she can. “Tessa,” I scold, rolling my eyes. “You can’t keep being so snarky to the nursing staff. If you stroke out, you’ll need one of them to like you enough to come in here and save you.”
“Ah, horseshit,” she huffs, waving me off. “I swear on Captain Morgan’s peg leg, if I don’t get out of here, they’ll be the ones that’ll need saving.”
Thanks to all the help from Matt and the girls, I was able to focus on the baking and decorating that I needed to get done, while took orders from me on the rest. Once we finished and got everything cleaned up, Matt managed to talk me into grabbing a quick bite for dinner before going to see Tessa at the hospital. Being the nice guy that he is, he decided to follow me over and see how she is doing. A decision I am sure he is regretting right about now. To say Tess is upset about not having been released to go home yet is an understatement.
She is about to insight a riot.
“Tess, I don’t think Captain Morgan had a peg leg,” Matt informs her, as I try to picture the label on the bottle.
Her head snaps in his direction, gaze hardening. “How the hell is you being a goddamn know-it-all helping, right now?”
“Careful, Tessa.” Reaching over, I pat her knee. “Keep being so sweet, they’ll want to keep you here forever.”
“Yeah,” Matt says, clearing his throat. “In a medically induced coma.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Hunk P.D.,” Tessa deadpans, letting out a harsh breath. Her eyes drop to the bakery bag at my feet. “What you got there?”
“Matt and the girls helped me out today. He even made you muffins.” Removing the box from the bag, I hold it out to her. “Cherry cheesecake.”
“That’s the six that didn’t end up in the floor,” Matt adds, flashing her a smile.
“Or is it?” I ask, winking at him.
“Nicely played,” Tessa mutters, opening the box. “Bitch.” Yanking out one of the muffins, she eyes it carefully, even giving it a sniff before peeling back the paper and taking a huge bite. “They’re horrible,” she mumbles, taking another bite. “Still, they beat out the shit on a shingle they’re trying to serve me here three times a day.”
“You’re welcome,” Matt says, smugly.
Finishing it off, she grabs another. “Yeah, yeah,” she blurts around another bite of muffin. “Congratulations on making something mostly edible. Now, if you really want my gratitude, you’l
l put on some scrubs and wheel me the hell out of here.”
“We aren’t jail breaking you from the geriatric ward,” I inform her, shaking my head. “Keep being so salty, they’ll call for a psych evaluation and a seventy-two hour hold.”
“Like I’m old enough to be in the geriatric ward,” she bites out, sounding offended. “Heard that nephew of mine let the Hope Town Whore walk right out of his jail.”
“Which one?” I giggle, shrugging my shoulders. “He nabbed more than one.”
“I think we know exactly who I meant,” she answers, pressing her lips into a hard line. “That little shit needs a lot more than a cock shot with a tire iron. Although,” she nods thoughtfully as she chews. “That was rather inspired given his past transgressions.”
“That has nothing to do with now,” I ground out, not wanting to discuss it.
“Like hell it doesn’t,” she argues. “Revenge is sweet, Sienna. And it’s a dish better served cold.”
“So revenge is ice cream?” Matt blurts, walking over and sitting on the arm of my chair.
“Did you bring ice cream for me to go with your ass-tasting muffins, you handsome little shit?” she asks, blinking slowly as she stares at him. “No? It’s best you don’t mention something if you have no intention or ability to give it to a woman. That refers to any kind of pleasure, be it inches or savory desserts.”
“Tessa, if you or Briggs are feeling like defending my honor again, or whatever ridiculous bullshit you can think up to justify assault, I will beat the both of you bloody with my rolling pin.”
“Talk about abusive,” she mutters, tossing the muffin wrapper into the box. “Do you see what you’ve gotten into bed with, Sargent Stud-Muffin? Violent little hussy and her kitchen utensils will be the death of all of us.”
Pushing to my feet, I bite back a laugh and shake my head. “Bitchity boozity bite me.”
After making sure Tessa isn’t going to harass the night staff to the point of needing an insanity plea, Matt and I tell her goodnight. I don’t argue when Matt informs me that he is following me home. I feel like that would only be wasting valuable time that could be spent stripping his clothes off.
