by Vivian Lux
Was he flirting now? Was that definitely flirting? It had to be flirting.
Or maybe he was teasing me. Sometimes when Zach teased me, he said it was because I was so cute. But it always made me feel so small instead.
But Jackson wasn't doing that. He was reading my recipe very carefully, and leveling off his measurements very precisely. I found myself staring, as he measured it out, much more carefully than my usual eyeball and dump strategy.
He turned his head and caught me staring and I snapped out of it. "I open in fifteen minutes," I told him.
"I don't think I've ever been your customer," he remarked.
"That's okay," I told him. "I've never been to your restaurant."
He grinned ruefully. "That's because it isn't open yet. I don't have that excuse."
"I'm the only one open on the block," I reminded him, feeling a little cheeky. I glanced up at him. His eyes were kind, soft, but sharp and intelligent at the same time. There was a light that danced behind them, even though I could see the dark shadows from working most of the night.
I shook my head. "Shit, I need to set up the tables," I said, silently cursing myself for being so absent-minded. Was this what I got like when I was around attractive guys? I sort of hated myself right now.
"I've got it," Jackson said. He helped me pull the chairs down from where I had set them upside down on the tables the day before. "You got everything?" he asked me.
I nodded. And he reached over, and switched the sign in the door over from Closed to Open.
The bell over the door rang almost instantly, and in loped the last person I thought I was going to see.
And apparently last person Jackson thought he would see either. When he walked in, it was like all the air went out of the room as he looked from Jackson to me and back to Jackson.
"Hello," Finn said.
My stomach dropped down to my toes. I looked from Finn, back to Jackson, feeling for some strange reason like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Or...like I was cheating or something.
But that was ludicrous, right? I had only just met these guys. These incredibly handsome, incredibly aggravating, yet strangely sweet guys who'd cleaned the graffiti off my shop unasked. And how had I reacted when Finn told me that? By getting all pissy and possessive for no reason other than I felt I had something to prove.
I looked at Finn and smiled, hoping like hell he'd forgotten what I bitch I'd been. "Can I help you?" I asked, in my best sunny-hostess voice.
But Finn wasn't paying attention to me. He was looking at Jackson with the strangest expression on his face. There was electricity in the air, I could feel it. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck. This kind of current... I'd never felt it before, but there was something in me... the same dark, dangerous part of me where my fearsome temper resided, that welcomed it. I grinned, feeling like the devil my mother had always warned me about was whispering in my ear. "Why don't you boys sit down?" I heard myself say. "I'll get you some breakfast."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Finn
If you'd asked me, in that moment, why I was so goddamn pissed off to see Jackson in Bee's store already, I wouldn't have been able to find the words to tell you. I would have been too busy counting backwards from one hundred, clenching my fists at my side and looking anywhere but at his smirking face as he greeted me warmly. "Good morning, boss," he said, sarcastically.
"Mornin'," I responded, with equal levels of sarcasm. Then taking note of his flour-coated hands, I smirked a little. "I thought you didn't do dessert?"
He reddened a little and glanced at Bee, who was watching us both with this gleam in her eye that made me look twice. "Why don't you boys sit down?" she said in a voice that seemed to resonate straight down to my dick. "I'll get you some breakfast."
I looked at Jackson. He immediately moved to go sit at one of the wobbly little tables that cluttered her front end. And when he lifted his chin in a challenge, I immediately scraped the chair across the floor and sat down across from him.
Bee was watching all this with that same gleam in her eye. "What can I get you?" she asked, and though her words were pure, perky professionalism, her voice was dripping with wicked sweetness. Like honey itself.
"I'll have what he's having," I told her, glancing over at Jackson who smirked and looked down to fiddle with the napkin dispenser.
"What's he having, then?" she replied in an arch tone, staring right at Jackson.
Fuck, I loved the way she was looking at him right now, eyes furiously gleaming, so brown and wide and warm. She was staring him down like she wanted to set him on fire. I liked the way her agitation made the freckles stand out against her skin, and even more than that, I liked the idea of inhaling the sugar on her skin before I tasted how sweet she really was. It didn't even bother me that she was looking at him right now, and not me, because I was free to rake my eyes up and down her body, free to gorge myself on her curves until I was satisfied.
Jackson leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and looked up at her. "What's good?" he asked with a grin.
Bee put her chin up, thrusting her jaw forward with an adorable little underbite. "Everything," she said fiercely.
"Huh," Jackson said, and his eyes looked a little glazed.
"I'm in the mood for something sweet," I piped up, allowing myself one more sweeping glance at those curves. But when my gaze came back up to rest on those wickedly brown eyes, I felt the need to amend that. "But not too sweet."
Bee flushed, her cheeks as pink as roses. Jackson cleared his throat. "Her buns are the sweetest thing I've tasted," he said levelly.
I felt something flash in my veins. "Oh?" I said. "You've tasted them?"
"Not yet," Jackson admitted. "Just dipped my finger in the batter. I'm waiting to see how they taste once their ready."
We stared at each other for a beat. He was keyed up, spoiling for a fight, I could tell, but more than that, I saw something else.
Was it, confusion?
It had to be, because I was feeling it too. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. One of us needed to back off, and soon.
But it wasn't going to be me. That was for damn sure.
I leaned back and glanced up at Bee again. She was waiting, watching us. I cleared my throat. "So. I guess I'll have to try your buns too. Just to be fair."
Bee abruptly turned and went behind the counter and for a minute I wondered if we'd pushed too far. Innuendo was one thing, but we'd both just basically propositioned her.
By the agreement we'd reached at the very beginning of our friendship, this was it. The point of no return. We'd agreed to never again compete over a woman. Once we declared our interest, the other had to back off.
But we'd never actually put it into practice. Not too long after we'd reached that agreement, Jackson had gotten himself tangled in Mercy's web. This was the first woman he'd shown interest in since he untangled himself. By all laws of friendship, I should be backing off now.
But when Bee returned with two plates, eyes gleaming, lips pinkened, and set them in front of us, I knew I wasn't ready to back off. And when she opened her mouth and spoke, I knew I was completely fucked.
"Eat up, boys," she said with a wicked grin.
I looked down at the flaky, sweet pastry in front of me. She was watching me as I lifted it to my mouth, her lips parting in unison with mine. "My honey buns," she declared as I bit in. "Sweetest thing you ever tasted," she said, turning to Jackson with that same wicked smile. "They're finally ready."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bee
I knew what I was doing.
What I didn't know was why I was doing it.
I set the plates in front of them and then stepped back. Watching these two men spar and snark at each other had my heart racing even before they both started eating.
But when they started eating, I suddenly knew why I was doing this. Egging them on. Flirting.
Because watching them eat what I'd made the
m, hearing their lips smack and the little groans of pleasure as they licked the sweet crumbs from the corners of their mouths was the most intensely sexy thing I'd ever experienced.
I swayed in place, reaching out a wavering hand to steady myself on the display counter. It was a wonder my knees didn't give out. I felt dizzy and breathless and my pulse was thundering in my ears, a wild, drumming beat that I could feel right down into my core. Right down to...
"How do you like them?" I gasped, cutting off that train of thought.
"Fuck me," Jackson groaned as he licked the last crumbs from his fingers. Then his eyes gleamed as he turned to stare. "Damn girl. You're incredible."
"You mean my baking is incredible."
"That's not what I said."
I swallowed. "Oh."
"I think I need a cigarette and a cold shower," Finn added, leaning back. "Are you a witch?"
I grinned. "No. I don't think so."
"I do," he protested vehemently. "I could get addicted to that very easily."
"Me too," Jackson added.
The way they were both looking at me? Yeah. I could get addicted to that too.
"Do you... want more?" I heard myself ask.
Jackson slid his chair back and stood up. When he came towards me, I had the urge to back up, to shy away, but I stood my ground, lifting my head to watch him as he got closer. Closer.
Way too close.
I could feel the heat rising from his skin, and it raised perverse goosebumps along my arms. He wasn't touching me, but I felt him everywhere, but what was more, I felt Finn's gaze watching the both of us and for some reason that made what Jackson did next feel almost dirty.
He lifted his fingers to his lips, brushing them to the side. "Do I have anything on my mouth?" he asked.
I licked my lips. "In the corner," I whispered, hardly daring to breath.
"Where?"
I lifted my finger. "There."
"Get it for me?"
He didn't move his eyes from mine as I brushed my finger along the corner of his mouth. And he didn't make a sound.
But Finn did. Finn let out a sharp exhale and suddenly stood up and paced over to the window. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him there, hunched over, his blond head gleaming in the early morning sunlight.
"Fuck," Jackson hissed, and stepped back from me.
The spell was broken. I sagged back against the counter and stared off into nothingness for a moment. That moment stretched into a minute, and then two.
And then I heard the bell ding over my door.
I snapped back into focus. "Miss Jenkins!" I sang out, though my voice came out more like a croak. "So good to see you!"
My purple-clad neighbor swept into my store with an audible swish of fabric. "Good morning." Her voice sounded like it had been soaked in gin. "I see I'm not the only customer today," she announced with a glance over to where Finn and Jackson were awkwardly hunched.
"No, ah." My brain stumbled. "Not today, no."
"That's wonderful sweetheart. I wouldn't want you to go out of business so soon after you opened."
I swallowed. "No, that would be bad."
"You have lots of customers, correct?"
My smile stretched upward falsely. "It's getting better every day. In fact, I just reached an agreement with the diner to provide their dinner rolls."
Her faded blue eyes sharpened. "You be careful with that, my dear. Spiro is cutthroat and doesn't hesitate to burn bridges." She leaned forward and I was enveloped in the scent of mothballs. "He will blackball you to the whole town if you don't come through on every order perfectly."
"Is that so?" I croaked. My heart was simultaneously racing and dropping right down to the floor. "Well I wouldn't want to do that."
Nick hadn't shown up yet. I glanced over to my silent phone, but there were no texts from him on the screen. He was supposed to do a drop at the diner by seven am, and he hadn't shown up yet. Nor had he called.
"What can I get you?" I squeaked to Miss Jenkins. "The usual?" I eyed the back door. The van was still sitting there. Loaded and waiting.
"Ah yes, and..." She leaned down, peering into the case. "Is that new, dear? In the corner?"
"Ah yes my double chocolate ganache cupcakes."
"How elegant."
"I think so," I said brightly, mentally begging her to hurry along.
"Perhaps I'll try one of those... one of these days." She straightened up at a glacial pace. "But for now... Why don't you just give me my usual scone? They do go so well with a pot of Darjeeling tea, you know."
"Is that so?" I was already ringing her up. "Glad to hear it. That'll be two thirty-two." My voice climbed up another frantic octave and I could feel Finn and Jackson looking at me with concern. "Here you are, Mrs. Jenkins. Good to see you, thank you!"
"You're welcome, dear." She turned and started making her slow way to the door. I exhaled in relief and was about to sprint to the back door when she turned. "Oh and my dear, I do apologize for waking you in the evening. Old habits are hard to break. You understand don't you?"
"Yes, of course," I smiled through gritted teeth. "It's fine."
"Yes of course it is," she corrected imperiously. I pressed my lips together to keep from shouting at her to hurry up until she finally, finally was out of the door.
"Goddammit!" I shouted, yanking off my apron and throwing it down. "Fucking fuck!"
"What's wrong?" Finn asked, moving into my path.
"Please, get out of my way."
"Tell me what's wrong."
"Dammit, I don't have time!"
"I want to help."
"Help?" I burst out laughing. "I'm about to lose my baking contract, the only thing that's keeping me afloat until the rest of the stores open down here, because my driver is the most unreliable person on the planet. I need to close — right now — and go make the delivery myself again before the world's most intimidating diner owner starts blackballing me to the whole town I just moved to." I let out a short, barking laugh. "So please, can you get out of my way now?"
"There's no need to close," Jackson piped up.
I turned and gaped at him. "Didn't you hear me? I have to go make this delivery."
"I know, but you don't have to close the shop to do that." He gestured at Finn. "One of us will stay."
Finn glanced at him, then ran his tongue over his teeth before turning back to me. "That's right. We got you."
"I don't need help," I protested.
"Sure you do," Finn replied. "In fact, I can make the delivery if you need me to. My house is out that way."
I shook my head. "No, I can do it."
"So we'll take care of things here," Jackson said calmly. "Don't worry about it Bee."
I glanced from him to Finn. Every part of me strained to protest this, to send them away and tell them I could take care of myself. Zach's voice in my brain cleared its throat, ready to remind me that I wasn't cut out to do anything on my own. I was too fragile, too helpless. Too naive and child-like to ever be able to live my life separately from him.
But I was stuck. I needed to go. And Finn had his feet planted stubbornly. "Fine. It's not like you're going to sell anything anyway," I groused. I glanced at them both again. "I'll be right back."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jackson
"What?" I sighed as I felt Finn glaring at me.
"Go home," Finn growled. "I've got this."
"What if I don't want you to have it?"
"Are you trying to be menacing?" Finn laughed. "I know all your tricks, dude. You can't intimidate me."
"I'm not trying to intimidate you."
He stepped forward. We were eye-to-eye, noses inches from each other and for a moment I was transported back to the night we met. It was at my favorite haunt, the place the line cooks always headed to after a bruising service. We'd had our asses handed to us, one of those nights where one issue spirals into another until everything cascades down and you're buried.
&nbs
p; And it was my fault. I knew that, even though the rest of my — well I wouldn't call them buddies — co-workers weren't saying anything. They didn't need to. I was beating myself up just fine without their help.
I spotted the girl from across the bar — funny how I don't even remember how she looked. But her dress was silver. That I do remember. I slid off my barstool, needing something to distract myself from how badly I'd fucked up that night, and sidled my way over to her.
I think I made some crack about her looking like an astronaut, and wondering if she wanted me to take her out of this world. It was a corny line, definitely not my finest work, but I was sloppy drunk and sorry for myself so it was the best I could do. I leaned in and asked her what she wanted to drink, when I felt something touch my arm.
I don't react like that anymore, but back then... well... I didn't really like being touched my strangers. Too many memories. So I defended myself.
That's all it was. I wasn't actually punching Finn over the girl. I was punching him for invading my space.
Turns out he ended up invading a lot more than that. He invaded my brain, forced me to stop drinking so much. He invaded my routine, insisting I was too damn gifted to languish in the char houses and steak joints that littered the city. He invaded my life, dragging me out and forcing me to be social with people. He was the reason I met Mercy in the first place, and even though that ended as badly as it could, I still owed him big time for making it happen. He was the reason I was here now, starting over again with his help and the money he'd bankrolled after years of trading derivatives. He was the reason for some of the bad, but the majority of the good in my life.
Finn was pushy and abrasive and all together a pain in my ass. But I'd have gone nowhere fast if I hadn't met him that fateful night six years ago.
"You gonna break my nose again?" Finn snarled now.
I couldn't help it. I grinned. "Nah," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I think I fucked it up well enough the first time."
Finn's eye twitched, and then his lip curled. He snorted and then stepped back. "Fucking hell," he swore. "You really are a dick."
