by Rye Hart
“Maybe the owner will be some big, hot slice of man who’s single and looking for a hot lady that knows how to bake.” She wagged her brows as I shook my head.
“No way. Those biker types are all the same and I swore off bad boys after Darrel. Besides, I have no time to date. The shop is my only love at the moment.”
“Who said anything about dating? Maybe he’ll come over and eat your muffin?” She gave me a nudge and we laughed. My sister came off as a prim and proper type, but she had a foul streak that was reserved for certain people. She and I had always joked around like that.
“I don’t think so. He’s probably some greasy old man anyway.” No thanks.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. It can’t help to get along with him regardless.” She had a point. I wondered for a moment if the guy knew how to do more than work on bikes. Maybe he could install a sink?
“I plan on being friendly, I just don’t think I’m ready for any sort of relationship. Darrel did a number on me and it’s just too soon.”
“It isn’t too soon. You guys broke up almost a year ago. You need to have some fun in your life too. Something that isn’t also described as work. I think you should walk over there and check him out. And if he’s hot, invite him over sometime for a warm slice of pie.”
We were both laughing as Barney came in. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” we said in unison. We shared another laugh and then went back to work knowing Monday was approaching fast.
CHAPTER TWO – HUNTER MILLER
Heather leaned over my work bench and glanced back at me. The hungry look in her eyes told me she was interested in more than an estimate. I wiped the grease from my hands and tucked the rag into the pocket of my loose-fitting jeans. “Looking for something?”
She giggled and tilted her ass upward, showing me all she could in her tight, shredded jeans. “I’ve got something that needs fixing and I’m willing to bet you’ve got the proper tool for it.” Her gaze slid down my body and by the time she met my eyes again I’d stepped closer.
“I’m sure I do, but I thought I told you the last time we can’t be doing this here, no matter what kind of twisted fantasies you have. This is a respectable place of business.” We’d met two months ago when she’d brought her boyfriend’s bike in to be repaired. They’d gotten in a hell of a fight when they came to pick it up, which ended with me driving her home after giving her a shoulder to cry on—as well as what she called the orgasm of her life.
She tossed her red hair and batted her heavily shadowed lids across her big blue eyes. “It didn’t stop you the last two times.” She slowly worked down her jeans, leaving her black lace panties in place. The curve of her ass peeked out above the jeans sending a direct message to my cock.
I closed the distance between us, standing behind her as she twisted her torso to kiss me. She liked taking it from behind; she liked a lot of things. Who was I not to oblige?
Her lips crushed against mine, soft but hungry. I gripped her ass, slipping my thumbs inside the straps at her hips where I could pull them down in one swift motion.
With one hand I felt her ass, rubbing soft circles as I worked my way between her legs and into her folds. The other worked on my zipper. She snaked her hand back and fished inside my clothes for my cock which she gripped tightly, giving it a nice firm stroke. My breath hissed between my teeth and I slapped her ass hard causing her to yelp and giggle.
I fisted my hand in her hair as she cried out “Yes.” Then I placed my hand on her hip, positioning myself at her entrance which was soaked from need.
“You’re a hungry little slut, today aren’t you?” I growled the words into her ear the way she liked it and she nodded.
“Yes, I’m so very hungry.” She nudged back against me as I thrusted hard, taking it to her depths in one long stroke.
There was no pause for her to adjust as I pumped my hips back and forth in a fast steady rhythm. Her tits bounced against my counter, hard nipples grazing the tools I’d left scattered, the chill of their metal no doubt assisting her pleasure.
I kept my hand twisted in her hair, but loosened it enough to hold her throat too. “Please,” she begged and I knew what she wanted from the last time we’d done this, when she’d begged me to choke her.
I applied a bit of pressure against her neck and the orgasm ripped through her in waves that had her knees collapsing and knocking together as she soaked me. She screamed through her first orgasm so loud I covered her mouth in case anyone happened to be lingering outside.
I was lost in the pleasure of round two when a buzz sounded from out front. “Fuck.” If it had been Monk, my right hand man, he would have walked right in from the back door, so it had to be a customer.
Heather pouted as I jerked my cock from her and quickly pulled up my pants. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The saucy tone to her voice had disappeared.
“Give me a second, would you.” I wasn’t asking. I hurried out front where a scrawny little man in a suit waited with a smug expression. He perused the room, checking out the bikes and the ads on the wall. “Can I help you?”
The man turned around and his eyes widened. “Yes, are you Hunter Miller?” There was something off about the guy and it wasn’t only the fact that he didn’t belong in my shop, he seemed to be on official business.
“Yeah, who wants to know?” There was a crash in the back room and Heather’s voice sounding out an “Oops” in the distance.
The man’s brow piqued and then, with a shaky hand, he passed me a letter he found in his coat pocket. I snatched it from him as he cleared his throat. “Consider yourself served, sir, and have a nice day.” He turned and hurried out like his ass was on fire.
“Fuck.” I ripped open the paper wondering what kind of trouble I was in. I hadn’t gotten a parking ticket in years, had no problems paying my bills, and didn’t do any shady deals. But one name stuck out on the paper that explained everything. Nancy.
At that moment I was convinced the devil was a woman. My evil ex-girlfriend and mother of my daughter had lost her damned mind and decided to sue me for custody. I went back to the garage where Heather waited, still standing bare-assed across the room. “It’s about time.” She rolled her eyes and turned to the counter, leaning over as if to resume where we had left off.
“Party’s over. It’s time to leave.”
Heather poked out her bottom lip, but then a stupid smirk played around her lips. “Aw, did you lose your stiffy, baby? I can fix that for you?” She licked her lips and reached down to pull up her panties and jeans.
“I said it’s time to go.” She shook her head like I was kidding and closed the distance, reaching for my zipper.
I grabbed her wrist. “I’m sorry to end the fun - but it’s a bad time. You need to leave.”
She turned and raked my tools off the counter. “Fuck you, asshole.” She hit the door running as if I’d come after her, but she didn’t mean anything to me.
I glanced at the letter again. Court was scheduled for Tuesday. Four days. My luck wasn’t getting any better. Not only did that leave me no time to plan, but I had a bike build that was due for one of my biggest clients. I’d have to get Monk to help out, which would pull him off his own build. It wasn’t like I had a damn choice. I had to go there and fight for my little girl.
A crashing noise out back got my attention and I went to look out the window to see who was there. It had to be a person. No animal could make that much racket. I peeked out and found that the neighbors were throwing away their trash. The guy outside was some dumpy little fuck in flip flops who could barely lift the bags he carried to the dumpster.
Sure he was probably a nice guy for all I knew. But since I had learned the space next door had been leased when I’d gone to the owner to secure it for myself, I had a bitter taste in my mouth. I’d planned to use it for my expansion project. And as if my luck wasn’t horrible enough, the new owners were opening a prissy ass pastry shop. Not a tattoo parlor
or pub, which would be beneficial to my business, no— a fucking bakery.
I watched as the man heaved the bags up over his head and then a woman joined him. I couldn’t be lucky enough to have a hot, single blond next door. Nope, looked like another happy couple.
I went to the peg where my jacket hung and tucked the letter into the inside pocket. After feeling my phone, I took it out to glance at the time. Tani’s sweet little face flashed across the screen as it lit to life, so on a whim I grabbed my jacket and shrugged it on.
It was still a bit early to close shop, but I grabbed my keys and bee-lined for my bike. If I timed things right I could get to my Mother’s as soon as she returned from picking up Tani from school. With the mood I was in, all I wanted was to know my daughter was safe. I needed to figure out what I could do to stop Nancy from ruining my girl’s life by taking custody—only to have a one-up on me. Of course, it had zero shits to do with a sincere concern for her daughter. I wanted Tani to have a relationship with her mother. A girl needs a mother figure in her life, but somehow Nancy always fucked things up. It was a sad reality, but Nancy was an alcoholic and her main priority was getting her fix, beyond anything or anyone else.
Before I could crank my bike, I spied a fit brunette washing the windows out front at the bakery. She was dressed in tight jeans, black boots, and a fitted top that showed off her rack. I watched a minute while she bent over her bucket of water and dipped her sponge. Nice. Now, that, I can live with. I wondered if she was the owner or hanging around to help out. Guess I’d know soon enough.
Seeing the letter sticking up from my jacket pocket brought things back into perspective. I revved my bike and sped out of the lot, determined that nothing would come between me and my little girl.
***
The hot water from my morning shower couldn’t wash away my foul Monday morning mood, which started with that damned letter and gotten worse through the weekend. At least I’d gotten my plans made for Tani and was thankful for my mother offering to help.
To top that, Monk was a solid guy and a good friend. He would have to run the shop alone as well as take on some of my work, and I’d definitely owe him one. Even if he didn’t expect me to repay the favor, I didn’t like to leave a good deed unnoticed.
I dried off and dressed while Tani slept and then I went to wake her. I found her curled up in a ball at the foot of her bed, her curly blond hair was a mess, and her hands tucked beneath her chin. I gave her a nudge and she wiggled away knowing I was there to ruin her dreams.
“Time to wake up, kiddo. Daddy’s got to get in early today. Uncle Monk’s waiting and you know how cranky he gets.”
She rolled over and yawned then grumbled something inaudible before heading to the bathroom. She might have her mother’s blond curls but her attitude was all me. She hated mornings as much as I did and it usually took her a good hour to become her usual chipper self.
I had her toast and oatmeal ready just the way she liked it when she came in dressed in her favorite pink kitten shirt and climbed up in her chair. “Is Nana picking me up again today?”
I knew what she was getting at. She’d been asking me to pick her up on my bike for weeks. I never took her to school on the bike, because she claimed she didn’t want helmet hair all day, but she loved for me to pick her up after school when it no longer mattered. “I’ll try to pick you up at the end of the week.”
“Thanks. Maybe Danny will see me then.” She wagged her brows at me and smiled. She was as boy crazy as her mother.
“You’re too young to have a boyfriend, Tani.” I felt sorry for the little punk who’d want to date my daughter at sixteen, much less six.
“He’s not a boyfriend, Daddy. He’s a boy in my class and he pushed me yesterday and I told him you were going to punch his face in.”
I tried not to smile, but my lips betrayed me. “You can’t go around threatening people, and you know I can’t hit a kid. They’d lock me up and for that, then would make you breakfast that way you like it?”
“I know that. I only want you to scare him a little. Do you think Uncle Monk could come too? I told Danny you were in a gang.” She dipped her toast in her oatmeal and took a bite.
I nearly spit out my coffee. “You shouldn’t lie, Tani.”
She let out a little sigh and rested her chin in her palm. “Then can I hit him?”
Part of me wanted to say, hell yeah, but I knew that wasn’t the answer, even though the little shit probably deserved that and worse. “I can’t give you permission to hit anyone, but I’ll make a deal with you. You tell your teacher if it happens again, and if he does it one more time after, you sock him right in the stomach.” I balled up my fist and she smiled. “And when you get in trouble, I’ll go talk to your teacher.”
“So will you and Monk still come on Friday?”
“I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise for Monk.” She smiled at my answer and gave me a fist bump.
***
Thirty minutes, after I dropped her off at school. I stopped back off at home for my bike and drove into work. When I arrived, I found that Monk had beaten me in. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah, I figured I’d get the coffee brewing.” He poured himself a cup and turned to lean against the counter in our break area. “The place next door was open. They have donuts.”
He held up a classic glazed and took a bite while offering me one from a pink box. I shook my head. “I didn’t know they were opening so soon. I’m not sure if they are going to like us much with our noise and the shady looking fuckers that hang around. I hope not because the sooner they leave the better.”
“She didn’t seem to mind me and I’m a shady looking fucker myself. Besides, we eat like anyone else.”
“She? You mean the owner?”
“Hell yeah, you should see the body on that one. She’s bangin’.” He gulped his coffee to wash down his bite. “Beautiful too.”
I thought about the sexy woman who was washing the windows compared to the one I’d seen out back. Both were pretty women, but only one was what I’d consider banging - with a big rack. I gave him a sideways glance and went to the window as if she’d still be there washing in my fantasized bikini.
“She said her name was Sarah, like the shop’s sign. You should go on over and say hello.”
Sarah. “I’ve got enough problems with the women in my life. Tani wants to me scare some punk named Danny, Heather was around again on Friday, and I don’t have to remind you of Satan’s twin, Nancy and her trick of the week.” I walked out to the shop and he followed. I had left the mess of tools scattered on the floor from Heather’s little fit, so I went to work putting things back in their place.
“Your temper must have gotten pretty bad to make such a mess.” Monk leaned over and picked up a wrench.
“You mean Heather’s. She doesn’t take rejection well.” His hand came up to my forehead – as if to check my temperature. He was a damned comedian, and a good one.
“Were you ill, man? You actually turned her down?” He knew all about mine and Heather’s association and even had the misfortune of walking in on us once.
“She’s got to stop coming around.”
“So, go say hello to sweet Sarah next door. Maybe she’ll run her off for you.” His eyes met mine with a challenging glare. “I dare you.”
“I would like to meet a nice girl for a change. Someone Tani could meet, even.” I took one last swig of my coffee and headed to the door. I also never lost a dare in my life and I wasn’t about to let this be the first. “Challenge accepted.”
I pulled the door closed behind me and stopped to see what was going on over at the bakery. I walked over and looked up at the sign on the front window I’d seen her washing. Sarah’s Sweet Shoppe.
The bells on the door chimed as I walked in and Sarah was busy bent over behind the counter serving some old timer an eyeful of cleavage with his order. I cleared my throat and the old man looked away as if waking from a trance.
“No rush.” We exchanged smiles and she rang up the old man, who wished us both good day and hurried out.
The place was decked out in pink and black and the front counter was filled with trays of the prettiest pastries I’d ever seen. Atop the counter were several different pies under glass domes and there was a large section of cookies and cakes. Tani would love it. I made a mental note to bring her by sometime.
“What can I get for you?” She leaned against the counter and I took a moment to slide my gaze downward. She was wearing a pink, fitted top and tight, black jeans that matched the rest of her theme. Across her front her shirt read: Sarah’s Sweet Shoppe, the sweetest spot in town.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Sarah’s sweet spot was like and with any luck she’d let me find out. “I’ll have a slice of apple pie.”
She smiled up at me with her big brown eyes sparkling. “I was wondering who would be the first to try my pie.” As I let that comment sink in, she pulled off the dome and took the pie to another counter. “For here or to go?”
I glanced over to the empty tables and decided to stick around a minute while she was alone. “Here’s fine. I actually wanted to come introduce myself. I’m Hunter Miller. I own the shop next door.” I nodded toward my place as she slid the pie onto a plate and grabbed a fork.
“Oh…hi Hunter. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah Tillerman. Would you like a free cup of coffee? It’s my opening week special.” I nodded and she grabbed a cup and served me. After I paid and settled into one of the dainty chairs at her little round tables, she came around and glanced out the front window.
I took a bite of the pie and made a sound of approval. “This is some good pie.” I was really impressed.
“Thank you. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She won awards for it at the South Texas State Fair years ago, back when they still had competitions for baking.”
