by Rica Grayson
“You’d call ten-thirty pm early.”
I told her about the party, except the part about Liam. It wasn’t important. I was sure nothing would come out of it anyway.
I covered my face with a hand, squeezing my eyes shut at the memory of him confused when he asked me about his non-existent girlfriend.
“I knew it!” Rona shrieked.
Wait… “What?”
“You met someone! Who?”
Was I that transparent? “Um… I didn’t say anything?”
She snorted. “Silence means hesitation,” she explained. “Hesitation means you’ve got something to share. So…spill.”
I rolled my eyes, even though she wouldn’t see. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yet?” she added hopefully.
“Ro,” I said a little impatiently. The warning in my voice was dulled by a yawn I was unable to suppress.
“You had your tea yet?” she asked innocently.
“Nope. I will soon.” I was already heating the water. I knew better than to be lulled with a false sense of security.
“I won’t keep you from your beauty rest,” she teased. But I knew if I didn’t tell her now, she was going to be doing her own digging.
“It doesn’t matter about him,” I said, my voice softer. “It’s not gonna happen.”
“So there is someone.”
“We’re completely different.”
“I know two very different people who fought like no other and are now engaged.”
“He doesn’t want a relationship,” I reasoned.
“So?”
My own admission, in its ferocity and conviction, surprised me. “I do.”
Rona was silent for a moment. “You used to love those trips we did when we escaped Grandma’s when we were sixteen. We’d ride our bikes, not caring where we went, we just peddled.”
“Best times,” I said, remembering it with a bittersweet ache that made me smile.
“The most rebellious ones. You used to be scared to ride, do you remember?”
I remembered. I thought I’d fall. Rona taught me how to ride. I grew to love the feel of the wind on my skin, and the glorious feeling like I could conquer the world.
Her question had my mind spinning, and it would be a question that would be running in my mind the whole night.
“How would you have known where we’d end up if you’d never had the courage to get on it?”
Chapter Five
Bree
“Come on,” I muttered. “Start.”
My car made an odd sputtering sound before it died. It still refused to start.
Wonderful.
I groaned in frustration. I still had enough fuel, and I’d just had the battery replaced a month ago. Why was this happening now?
Kiera might still be at home.
She answered almost immediately when I rang her.
“Again?” she asked, surprised. “Sure. I’ll be there soon.”
He’d been here every week like clockwork for the past several months, and yet today, when he walked in Sprinkles and Stardust, it caught me by surprise.
Somewhere between last night and this morning, I managed to convince myself that someone like him wasn’t really interested in someone like me, and keeping my hopes up was stupid.
I thought he’d given up.
But he was here.
His eyes scanned the bakery, searching. They landed on me, and he flashed me a crooked smile that made my heart skip a beat.
Maybe it didn’t mean anything.
Maybe he smiled at other women all the time, just out of sheer habit. Maybe he didn’t realize he was doing it.
I rested a palm over my heart, taking a deep breath. Could something that made my heart beat this fast not mean anything? And if I believed it did, what did that make me?
I’d reached a certain point where I came to memorize what people usually had every morning by heart. I had a good memory, and in my line of work, it came in handy.
I was carrying Liam’s order to his table—his usual hot chocolate and two croissants. I made pretty good hot chocolate.
My foot got caught in the leg of a chair, and suddenly I wasn’t walking anymore, and my head seemed to spin as I lost my balance.
I was able to grab on to the edge of a table in time. But not before the hot chocolate splashed on the inside of my wrist. “Ow.” I jerked my hand back.
At least the croissants were fine.
“Liam. I’m so sorry! I’ll—I’ll make you a new one.”
But instead of impatience or displeasure, there was concern in his eyes. His hand cupped my elbow. “Hey, you okay?”
His voice did nothing to soothe the embarrassment of nearly tripping and dumping his hot chocolate on him and burning myself in the process.
“I won’t be long and there’ll be extra marshmallows,” I promised.
I picked up the tray, but he didn’t let me go. “Bree,” he said firmly, not budging an inch. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’m sorry I nearly dumped your order on you. I’ll get right on it.”
Before I had a chance to dig myself a deeper hole, I turned on my heel and left.
Made myself look like a gullible person, check.
Embarrassing moment, check.
It seemed like I was good at making myself look like an idiot when it came to him.
I pressed some ice on the area of my wrist that was now turning pink.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Kiera said curiously. She followed me, and she folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve been working with you for the past six months, and never, not once have I seen you make mistakes like today, even though you’ve been working your ass off every day. Are you sure you didn’t eat something weird at the party?”
I didn’t even know what was wrong with me.
Scratch that.
I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure what I could do about it. The more I tried not to think about him, the more our paths seemed to cross. It was maddening.
I spaced out while I kneaded the dough this morning. Twice, I had to make two people repeat their order. And then messing up with the hot chocolate.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my forehead, annoyed at myself.
I was running a business. There wasn’t room for any mistakes.
Hoping I didn’t lose my regular and that I didn’t completely make a fool out of myself, I set down the hot chocolate and a caramel slice efficiently, unable to look at him. My face burned hot.
“Thanks.” His fingers brushed against mine as he accepted the hot chocolate and the slice. His touch was electric, and it was all I could do not to gasp. He gave me a knowing look.
I realized then that he knew the effect he had on me.
“Busy day?” he asked.
“Very,” I admitted. “It’s been crazy.”
He frowned. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Kind of.” I had half a danish roll. That counted, right?
“I was thinking,” he said, “later on, after your shift, maybe when you’re hungry, you’d let me take you out.”
I stared. “Take me out?” I repeated.
He met my questioning gaze straight on. “Yeah.”
My brows drew together as it sank in. Of all the… “Do you find incompetence attractive?”
Open mouth, insert foot.
I didn’t mean to say that at all.
Much to my chagrin, he burst out laughing.
“Honest answer? No. You don’t have to do anything, Bree.”
I didn’t laugh. I was still struggling to formulate a response.
“Is that a yes for later?”
Huh. “You’re persistent,” I observed.
“Pays off to be.”
I tore my gaze away from him, picking the tray up and stepping back. As if the physical distance would somehow lessen the effect he had on me. “Do you try that with everyone else?”
He grinne
d. “I don’t know where you get the idea I’m interested in any other woman right now but you.”
I wanted to find the perfect soulmate, the kind I'd only read about in books and seen in movies. Not simply a brief, physical entanglement, or a temporary fling.
He didn't exist.
As much as I craved that deep, elusive connection, it scared me, because past relationships had worked wonders in chipping away at my self-esteem, and the one person who'd stirred my interest in the longest time wasn't looking for any attachments.
“Why me?” He could probably have any woman if he wanted, but right now, he was here. I didn’t understand it.
He shook his head at me, his eyes sharp and his lips thinning in displeasure. “Gonna ignore that.”
“Why?”
“Because you had to ask it at all.”
“You just go and ask me out all of a sudden, and you expect me not to wonder why?” I snapped back.
“Fuck. Yes, I do. And it’s not all that sudden.”
“Yes, it is,” I argued.
To my surprise, instead of arguing back, he cracked a grin.
He was enjoying this!
“So, no dating.” But then his eyes burned hot, a teasing smile on his lips. “Something else, then. Whatever you want.”
I felt the way his eyes slid down my body as he said the words, and the way he dragged them out stirred an ache of longing in me.
It was tempting. And yet it only reminded me of what I couldn’t have.
I gripped the tray tighter. Steeling myself, I kept my voice neutral as I asked, “Would you like to get anything else?”
By the time my shift ended, I breathed a sigh of relief. I usually loved the rush of working in such a busy environment. Thrived in it, even. But today, for whatever reason, I was just feeling out of it.
Kiera told me she couldn’t drop me off tonight, because she was running late to watch her brother’s game. Her brother played basketball, and she never missed any of his games.
Rona wasn’t answering her phone.
“Hmm.” Kiera tapped a finger on the counter, thinking of who could drive me home. “Who can we—? Oh!” She clapped her hands together, as if some brilliant idea just occurred to her. “We can ask Liam! He won't mind."
What?
I grabbed her arm. "No!" I said a little desperately. “We can't do that."
Her brows went together as she stared at me, puzzled. “Why not?” she asked, throwing her hands out.
“Because!” I stopped. Because I seemed to have a habit of screwing up when it came to him? Because my brain somehow stopped connecting with my body and I did stupid things? “I—I don’t want to bother him.”
She snorted. “You won’t.”
Before I had a chance to protest any more, she was pushing me towards him and left us both standing in front of each other. Me, wide-eyed and cursing Kiera in my head, and him curious, and—was that a spark of interest in his eyes?
Now he probably thought I was weird. Liam had stayed a little longer today, working on something on his laptop.
“I’m sorry. You’re probably busy. I don’t want to—”
He did a half-shrug. “I was about to go. Not really busy. What’s up?”
“My car’s in the repair shop at the moment,” I explained. “If you have things to do, it’s okay, I can find—”
“Bree, it’s fine.” He leaned back on the wall, crossing his arms. “So, you don't date, and you don't ask for help…”
“I didn’t see the need to disturb you since you looked busy,” I reasoned.
“Never, for you.” My heartbeat sped. Who said things like that? “It’s just three words Bree—I… Need… Help.”
“All right.” I tilted my head up to meet his eyes, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I need help, if it’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay. There. Wasn't so bad, baby, was it?" He winked and stepping closer, he held a hand out, a wicked glint to his eye.
I accepted his hand and followed him out reluctantly. But one thing was for sure—this was going to be a long ride home.
Chapter Six
Liam
I didn’t chase women.
Never felt the need to, never thought it was fun to go in circles, trying to understand what they really wanted. Because I’ve been with those kinds of women, and it was a pain in the ass.
Something about Bree intrigued me. She wasn’t playing any games, and yet I got the distinct feeling that she was holding back around me. She looked genuinely confused that I’d approached her, and I had no idea why.
She was sweet, she was sexy, and the hell of it was, she was completely unaware of it.
She played with a charm on her bracelet as she looked out the window, oddly silent. “Nice bracelet,” I said conversationally. I’d seen her twist it around her wrist, a subconscious habit I don’t think she was really aware of.
“Thanks.” She looked down at it. There was softness in her gaze. “It was a present from my mom.”
There was pain in her words. It was subtle, and she made an effort to conceal it with a smile, but it was there. I almost immediately regretted the question. “Sorry. Bad memory?”
She shrugged, but I had a feeling it mattered to her. “No—good memories. Just an old one.”
“Sometimes, it’s the good ones that hurt a damn lot.”
A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she exhaled a breath. “You’re right. But I’ll be fine.”
It sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself, but for now, I let it go.
The screen of her phone glowed. She picked it up immediately. “Now you text,” she muttered under her breath, but I heard her.
Her body tensed when I glanced at her. She cleared her throat and shifted to look at me with those dark, expressive eyes. “Liam—you can’t take me home. Please, lets go somewhere else first.”
Hell. How can anyone refuse her when she looked at me like that?
But there was desperation in her voice, and it stirred my curiosity.
“Why not?” I asked her.
“Umm.” Her eyes darted towards the window.
I waited.
She gave in, sighing. “My sister’s there.”
What the hell did it matter? I already knew Rona.
“Rona… It’s just us who look out for each other now. If she sees you, she’s going to blast you with questions.”
Ah.
“Baby, now I feel like a dirty secret.”
She looked horrified. “Oh my God. I didn’t mean that at all.”
“Just teasing, Bree.” I chuckled. What was it about her? “So. Where do you want to go?”
“You wanna ride that?” I eyed the rainbow-colored Ferris wheel that stretched high up.
I couldn’t remember the last time I rode on it. I couldn’t even remember the last time I gave it more than a passing thought. Most of the time it melted into the background.
She nodded firmly. “I go here a lot when I need to think.”
The carriage squeaked as I stepped in.
“This is… safe?”
“Yep,” she replied quickly.
My head nearly bumped the top of the carriage as I sat down. This thing looked like it was about to fall off, and she looked no less thrilled to ride it. She sat opposite me, her excitement infectious.
Scared of being stuck in an elevator, but ride a Ferris wheel and she’s fucking jumping in excitement.
“Give it a year,” I said. “You’ll end up forgetting it exists.”
She curled her hand on the rail and looked out, a crease settling between her brows. “I don’t want to forget.”
The Ferris wheel started moving.
She looked exhausted. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in.
“Tired?” I asked. Suddenly, I didn’t like the idea of her working so much.
She smiled weakly. “A little, I guess. But I’m fine.”
There was that word again.
She’d
said it with smooth, practiced ease. I looked out the window too. Fortuity was peppered with small speckles of light from up here. Strange that I never realized it before. Never remembered what it even looked like from up here.
“Hmm.”
Her eyes snapped open and she looked at me in surprise. Had no one ever stopped to challenge the sincerity of her practiced response? She looked down at her hands, smoothing the edges of her dress. “What?”
“You’ve been in the bakery since what, seven?” I asked.
“Six thirty.” She paused, before her eyes narrowed. “I don’t work too much,” she quickly added, almost defensively.
I gave her a look.
She blew out a breath, giving in. “All right. Yes, probably. Sometimes.”
I cracked a grin. “Only sometimes?”
She did a half-shrug. “Maybe more. But I love it. I’m dead on my feet. I have cuts on my fingers—and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
I understood that. I respected the hell out of it. Her professionalism, her passion, and right now, her honesty.
I don’t know what it was about her, but I wanted more.
And as the Ferris wheel lowered us, I caught the way the light hit her, revealing the inside of her wrist. I leaned closer, and took her hand. Then I flipped her hand around.
She realized my intent, but it was too late.
“You burned yourself this morning.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but I didn’t let her. I wanted to know.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.
“It happens. It’s just part of my work. And it’s not that bad, I already put some ice on it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to gather patience. The skin of her palm was smooth and warm, and I didn’t let go of her hand, trying to calm myself. I looked out the window again as we reached the peak once more. The sight eased my irrational desire to protect her. Somehow, the stars looked like they burned brighter.
“I didn’t know Fortuity looked like this,” I admitted.
“It’s spectacular, isn’t it?” she said, her voice nearly vibrating with energy, even though she looked like a feather could make her fall over.
