by Jenny Penn
Dismissing the two junior squad members who had been busy pleading for some favor, he kicked out the chair opposite of him, offering it to Alex as he finally approached.
“Hey, man…did somebody hit you?”
“It’s a long story.” Alex plopped down, shooting a pointed look around the bakery. “And it looks like a more interesting one is unfolding here.”
“Yeah,” GD breathed out, following Alex’s gaze with an air of satisfaction. “Heather’s going to make some good money this morning.”
Alex snorted at that. GD would see the situation that way. Built like a bull, GD looked more at home in jeans and a T-shirt than a business suit, but that didn’t change the fact that the man had a mind for money, which was just why the Davis brothers had tapped him to help run the club after they’d had to step back from helping run the daily operations. They had Patton to take care of and now GD had some clout. He was clearly trying to put it to good use.
“So that’s what this is all about?” Alex lifted a brow. “You trying to help Heather out by throwing some business her way?”
“Not exactly.”
There was something about GD’s smile that had Alex’s nerves prickling with unease but before he could question the big man, a laugh wafted through the air, cutting into his concentration. He knew that sound. That was Heather. She didn’t normally laugh like that.
Almost reflexively, he turned in his seat, searching her out in the crowd and narrowing his gaze on the sight of her trying to shove out of Wesley Briggs’ lap.
The handsy bastard had Heather trapped in his big, clumsy pays, keeping her pinned against him even as she struggled. Alex was halfway out of his seat before she managed to break free and twirl away from her attacker. The stupid woman was still laughing and waving a finger at Wesley like he was some kind of bad dog when what the boy really needed was a whipping.
That idea put a smile on Alex’s face as he fell back into his seat. He’d deal with Wesley later and make it clear to the young stud that Heather didn’t need his kind pestering her. Didn’t need and didn’t want—that was his Heather. The junior squad would figure out those truths soon enough.
Planting his ass in his seat, Alex turned back to study GD’s smirk. The man was amused and that was always a dangerous sign. Then again, Alex was beginning to feel a little dangerous himself, especially when Heather moved into view, laughing and flirting her way down the line of tables toward them.
“If you don’t want me to litter this bakery full of bloody and broken boys, you’ll tell me why the junior squad is packed in here today making a nuisance of themselves.”
“Ah, come on. They’re not that bad.” But even as GD defended the younger Cattlemen recruits, his gaze traveled over them and his eyes reflected his disgust.
“They’re a bunch of talentless dicks looking to get stroked. They have no class and no style.” And none of them was worthy of even one of Heather’s smiles.
“They’re just young,” GD said, dismissing Alex’s complaints. “Time and a whole lot of pussy will eventually cure them of that failing. It did you.”
“Why are they here?”
“Because of the competition.” GD paused to smirk before tacking on, “And you.”
“Me? I’m not a part of any compe—” Alex broke off, his frown deepening into a full scowl. “You’re talking about the Summer Challenge, aren’t you? You’re saying that Heather is the prize, aren’t you?”
Before Alex could level any more accusations at GD, Heather appeared at the big man’s side, smiling and refilling his coffee cup as she pointedly ignored Alex. It wasn’t that insult, though, that had his breath shortening as his ears began to burn and his temper smolder. It was the thought of any one of the assholes present in the bakery daring to touch Heather.
She was his and he’d rip anybody to shreds who dared to touch her. Heather was off-limits. She always had been, just as she’d always known how to drive him completely and totally bonkers.
Today was no different. As if his temper wasn’t hanging by a thread or the need to do damage pumping through his veins wasn’t hot enough, Heather sashayed closer with a smile that cut straight through to Alex’s heart. It left his heart bleeding and broken in his chest, because that smile wasn’t for him.
“Everything good with you, handsome?” Heather asked, coming to a stop alongside GD to gaze down at the big man with a fondness that only fueled the tension tightening through Alex’s muscles.
“Everything is delicious as usual, beautiful,” GD assured her, his gaze glinting with mischief as it danced from Alex to Heather.
“Are you sure there is nothing else I can get you?”
That offer had GD’s lips twitching and Alex could feel it coming—the antagonism. Sure enough, GD reached out to wrap an arm around Heather’s waist, tucking her in close to his side so his head hovered a mere breath away from the nipples already pebbled beneath the thin cotton of her dress. As if that wasn’t enough to make Alex’s fingers curl with the need to hit something, namely GD, the bastard settled his hand against the sweetly rounded curve of her ass and began rubbing the plush cheek as he outright propositioned her in front of Alex.
“I’m sure there’s nothing you could serve me out here, but if you want to step into the back for a moment, we could have a private tasting.” GD temped her in a sexy purr Alex had seen women melt over. Heather was no different, leaning into his side with a want that was clear as day before sighing with obvious regret.
“I can’t. I got a bakery full of customers.” Heather shot that complaint at Alex, who shot her back an equally dirty look.
“Hungry customers and, trust me, I’m not looking for a private tasting,” Alex assured her, though he wouldn’t have turned one down.
Heather didn’t know that, but even if she did, Alex knew she’d never offer him any kind of tasting. The only thing he was likely to get out of her were the specials of the day, and even that was too much to expect right then. Pulling free of GD’s hold, she yanked out her order pad before shooting him an expectant look.
“So? What do you want?”
He wanted to bend her over his knees and make her regret ever being so rude to him. Then he wanted to shove her down onto the ground, right there in front of every member of the junior squad, and fuck her until she begged and screamed and everybody knew who she belonged to, but Heather would never belong to him.
She’d proven that years ago. So, now all he got to do was piss her off.
“I don’t know. What are the specials?”
“Crème brûlée French toast.”
“Hmmm…Does that come with bacon or sausage?”
“It comes with whatever you ask for,” Heather retorted.
Alex pretended like he didn’t notice her aggravated tone or the irritated way her pen was tapping against her pad as he explained with an indulgent air, “I’m trying to lay off the fried food—”
“French toast is baked.”
“No, it’s not,” Alex instantly corrected her, knowing just how much she hated to be contradicted, but before she could object, he cut her off with a simple statement no woman would dare to argue against. “My mom always fried hers in a pan.”
“Well…That’s not how we do it. Would you like to try it?”
“I don’t think so,” Alex responded instantly, infusing just a touch of disgust in his tone. It was enough to have Heather’s eyes narrowing on him.
“Then what would you like?”
“Is that the only special you have?”
“We have donuts.”
“Now those are fried.”
“Yes,” Heather ground out from between clenched jaws. “They are, and they’re coated with sugar, too.”
“What are you trying to do? Make me fat?” Alex demanded to know in a flash of indignation before he pulled out his most authoritative tone. “Do you know what would happen then? Criminals would get away. Yes, they would and you know why? Because they run, especially when c
ops come around, and if I can’t catch them, they escape, then suddenly Pittsview would be overrun with crime, and then what would you do?”
“Vote in a new sheriff,” Heather suggested with a too-sweet smile.
“More likely your business would go down as fewer people came to town fearing the rampant violence,” Alex concluded, knowing just how he sounded and having to fight hard to keep his face straight as Heather’s gaze narrowed on him. “So it is for your own financial good to offer healthy alternatives on your menu.”
“Fine,” Heather snapped. “I’ll get you some oatmeal with a side of lemon slices.”
“You don’t have any oatmeal,” Alex shot back but Heather wasn’t listening. She’d already turned to storm off. Alex watched her sweet ass sway until it finally disappeared through the kitchen doors. Only then did he bother to glance back over at GD, who sat waiting indulgently for him to finish.
“You know, you don’t have to work so hard,” GD advised him. “She already hates you.”
That Alex knew, and she had no right to. Sure he’d screwed things up, but so had Heather. In fact, she’d screwed up even bigger because she screwed somebody else. She’d cheated, and then she’d had the audacity to act like it was his fault.
Alex could feel his ears flame hot as that old argument ran through his head. It was pointless. He was just yelling at himself when he could be yelling at somebody else. Somebody like GD, who was not only convenient but also worthy of being cussed out.
“You’re going to take Heather’s name off the list,” Alex snarled, holding back on the curses flooding his head as he tried in vain to reason with GD.
“I’m sorry, man.” GD didn’t sound the slightest bit concerned about Alex’s glower. In fact, he sounded downright cheerful. “The vote’s already done, and you know it can’t be undone.”
“You’re sorry?” Choking on those words, Alex gaped at GD, both stunned and amazed at the big man’s nonchalant attitude. “That’s all you got to say?”
“What else is there to say?” GD shrugged. “I think this is going to be a great summer for Heather. She’s has her pick of men and is going to make a pretty penny off of them to boot.”
“Are you just completely forgetting the past? Or don’t you remember how it turned out the last time you tried to interfere in Heather’s love life?”
“That isn’t going to happen again,” GD assured him with an arrogance that left Alex almost breathless.
“And how do you know that?”
Things were already getting out of hand. For God’s sake, she was already being pawed by that moron Bill Glover. Buff, tanned, and rumored to be good with his tongue, he was also a good ten years younger than Heather. That didn’t stop her from giggling like a school girl as whatever stupid thing Glover said as she paused by his side to refill his coffee cup. The filthy dog took instant advantage of her position to wrap an arm around waist and snuggle his head into her side and all too close to the underside of Heather’s breasts.
Rage flared hot and bright through Alex as the sudden need to launch himself across the bakery and right at Glover damn near overwhelmed his better sense. He managed, though, to remain seated with just the thought that later he’d get his revenge. After all, everybody knew that Glover liked to race his custom-painted Camaro down the highway. That Camaro was going to be sitting in the impound lot by the end of the night, and if he caught the bastard doing twenty over the limit, he’d be sitting in jail.
Ben Ricker would be sitting one cell over if he didn’t let go of Heather’s hand. Alex watched as Ben pulled her free of Glover’s hold only to tuck her into his side. That tall, scrawny cheapskate didn’t have a chance, Alex assured himself as he forced his fingers to relax and release the death grip they had on the edge of the table.
Looks might not mean everything to a woman, but cheapness did. Everybody knew Ben didn’t tip worth a damn. Stingy, stingy, stingy. Alex shook his head, knowing no woman wanted that in her bed. Of course nobody tipped as well as Jimmy Mathews.
Big show off.
Alex’s mood darkened as Heather lingered by Jimmy’s table, engrossed in some conversation that had her reaching out to pat the man’s shoulder. Like Jimmy needed any consolation, Alex snorted at that idea. He had a solid job, clean, all-American good looks, and a smile that made women melt at his feet, and he was also the most senior of the junior squad. He was the face of the future.
Of course that face wouldn’t be so pretty once Alex crammed his teeth down his throat. He wondered then what women would think of Mr. Gums, because that’s what he’d become known as.
Jimmy was a threat. A big one, and so was his buddy, Dean. Alex watched as the bastard offered Heather up that slow, come-fuck-me twist of his lips that normally had women panting and begging to spread for him, but, mercifully, seemed to have little effect on Heather, who just smiled blandly back at Dean. Not that the jackass was dissuaded. Just the opposite. Alex could see the glint of challenge flash in Dean’s gaze from all the way across the bakery and knew that Heather had just made a tactical mistake. No woman ever turned Dean down.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, you got to put a stop to this.” Alex turned back to confront GD, but the big man wasn’t in the mood to argue.
“And how would I even do that if I wanted to?”
“Warn her,” Alex snapped, before threatening, “Or I will.”
“You do, and you’re out of the club,” GD stated simply. “You know the rules.”
“I don’t care about the rules.” What Alex cared about was assuring that Heather did not end up in the middle of a Jimmy and Dean sandwich.
“Everybody else does,” GD reminded him.
“So?”
“So…they’re going to be pissed…at you,” GD finished off when Alex refused to fill in his blanks.
“They’ll get over it.”
“And will Heather?” GD asked, finding Alex’s one weakness. “I mean, that is, assuming she believes you.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?” Alex demanded to know, because he sure as shit wasn’t going to sit by and let any of the punks packed into the bakery have her. It had been bad enough letting GD have her for all these years.
“Well, I figure you got two choices.” GD leaned over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “You can either let somebody else have her, or go after her yourself.”
As if that was even an option.
“Ah, yeah.” GD nodded as if reading Alex’s thoughts. “You would have to risk that she’d choose somebody else, but wouldn’t that be good to know? Then, maybe, you could actually move past her and find somebody else.”
Somebody else?
The very idea felt abhorrent. GD had lost every marble he had if he thought there was anybody else. Just the word ‘else’ implied that there was somebody in the first place, and there wasn’t. There wasn’t anybody…well, there was somebody, somebody who was trying to snatch Heather up.
Alex wanted a name. “Who nominated her as the prize?”
“That’s confidential.”
“I don’t care.”
“Too bad for you I do,” GD shot back before draining the last dregs from his coffee cup.
He slapped it back down into its saucer and shoved out of his seat. Alex rose with GD. Intentionally blocking the big man’s path, he took his stand and he made it clear.
“I want a name.”
Before GD could respond to that demand, a large floral display pushed its way through the bakery doors, drawing everybody’s notice as the delivery man stumbled, nearly dropping the oversized display right onto Heather. She rushed forward to help catch the flowers, and that’s when it clicked. Suddenly, Alex knew the answer to his own question.
“You want a name?” GD paused before brushing past Alex to confirm his suspicions. “Go ask Konor if he knows who nominated her. I’m betting he does.”
Chapter 5
Konor flexed his muscle as he whipped the whisk through the pile of egg yolk
s, fluffing them up quick into a bright, creamy yellow—the perfect texture to make a creamy ice cream. That was something Heather didn’t have on her menu, but something Konor knew she loved, thanks to his inside informant.
Coffee ice cream to be specific, which was just why he had a pile of beans steeping in the half and half he’d already heated. They had ten minutes to go. Then it’d be time to make the hot custard base that would get creamed later that afternoon. He already had the ice cream maker’s bucket chilling in the freezer, the pizza dough was relaxing, and the mini-quiches were already baked and cooling.
Everything was on schedule, including Alex.
Hearing Alex’s truck roar down the drive, Konor abandoned his eggs to attend to the breakfast plate he had warming in the oven. By the time he had the foil peeled off the plate and everything set up at the kitchen island, Alex had already slammed through the front door and started bellowing his name.
“I’m in the kitchen!” Konor hollered back, drawing the pound of Alex’s angry footsteps in his direction.
A second later Alex stormed into the room, flushed and heaving with an uncharacteristic rage that was almost comical, or would have been if the subject wasn’t so damn serious. Alex didn’t leave him wondering just what was the matter either, but lit into him almost instantly.
“I got a bone to pick with you.”
“Wow, what happened to your face?” Konor paused to eye the bruise darkening along Alex’s cheek. “Somebody hit you?”
“Don’t start that crap with me, Konor,” Alex snapped, slicing his hand through the air as if to cut right through Konor’s comment.
“What crap?” Konor frowned. “Being concerned that somebody hit you?”
“I know what you did.”
“I didn’t hit you.”
