by Alexa Hart
“Summer, you look beautiful as always!” He smiles. “Did Angelo get in touch? I’ve gotten an infection from the surgery, so they’re keeping me here. But Angelo can show you around the bakery. We should probably think about hiring a temporary baker though ...I don’t think I’ll be back up and running the way I hoped.”
I shake my head. “Actually, that’s what I came here to talk about. Last night ...last night a man came after Angelo.”
Rudy sits up.
“He’s fine. But...he’s in trouble. I guess Angelo owes a lot of money and he’s...the bakery is a mess.”
Rudy shakes his head. “He promised me he was turning things around.”
“Rudy, the people ...they want the bakery. I came here to ask, to beg, for you to sell the bakery to me. I’ll give you everything I have. It might be enough to get Angelo more time and I’ll get a loan from the bank. You just can’t let this bakery go. It’s all that’s left of our family.”
Rudy shakes his head and pats my hand. “Summer, I know Angelo is no good. I know that. And I should have cut him off long ago. But he’s still like a son to me. I can’t turn my back on him. And if he’s involved with bad people…. I know you can’t turn your back on him either.”
I start to cry. I know he’s right. I knew it even before I came here. But letting the bakery go...it feels like losing my parents all over again. Without the bakery, there will be nothing to tie me to them.
“At least promise me if I figure something out, you’ll never let Angelo near the place again.”
Rudy nods. I feel a flash of anger at myself for staying away for so long and an even bigger flash of anger at the man with the baseball bat who has brought us to this moment. I know it’s Angelo’s fault more than his, but at this moment I don’t care. If I ever see that man again, I’ll kill him. No. I have to find him and convince him to give us more time. Murder will have to wait. Persuasion requires baked goods.
Chapter 8
Kane
Maddie is already off to school when I finally manage to drag myself down to the kitchen. She’s gotten good at doing the morning routine solo because, as Maddie says, mornings are not my strong suit. The knock at the front door before I’ve even poured my first cup of coffee is a bad sign. And after the night I had, bad is a fair definition for my entire fucking mood.
I never smash up a debtor with their family around. Never. I grew up with men busting into the house to rough up my mom or me as if it would get my dad to cough up whatever debt he owed. That kind of intimidation never did a damn thing except make my mother cry and send us moving around and in hiding until I got old enough to fight back. They didn’t come around after that and when I got into the business, I told Marino my terms. No women. No children. My sources, and the idiot himself, had assured me that Angelo was alone at the bakery with his stepfather in the hospital, and Angelo isn’t the kind of guy to score a girlfriend. He’s more the type to buy them, or worse, film them. Scum. So what the hell was the prissy, sexy baker doing in lingerie at Angelo’s place? No way she was an escort. She was too shy and, I don’t know how to describe it...too pure. And even if she worked at the bakery, she wasn’t exactly dressed for work. No, even her glasses and her disheveled hair were sexy as hell on her, all innocent. But she was dressed for torment. So much so that I’d been thinking of her all night. The way the silk rubbed against her pink, pale skin and the soft cardigan that didn’t hide anything wrapped around her where a man’s hands ought to have been. For a small woman, she had amazing, lean legs. Hell, all of her was soft and supple and when I’d picked her up because the little fool was about to step barefoot across the store after I’d smashed it up to scare some sense into Angelo, she’d felt amazing in my large hands. And I swear she’d purred a little like a kitten. I’d fucking nearly gotten a hard-on at that moment, a first for me during work hours.
The whole thing pisses me off. Summer had thrown what should have been a slam dunk smash and scare into something else. After all, I was really doing Angelo a service. The guy was in way over his head trying to pay off his debt to Marino by messing with gangs five times as bad as anything Marino had ever done. And Angelo was shit at cards and now moving into selling women. The idiot was going to end up dead, and now Summer was mixed up in it too and that meant she was in danger. The other men who did my job weren’t so ethical when it came to who they roughed up. Selling the bakery was the best way out for all of them, and Marino was always keen to get good real estate. But Summer didn’t look like she was going to let that happen without hell freezing over. That kind of stubbornness in a situation like this meant she was going to get hurt. And what pisses me off is that the idea of her being hurt bothers me. She bothers me. I have a rule to also not care about things that aren’t my business, but ever since she lobbed that cookie tin at me, she seems to have become my business.
The doorbell rings again and I shuffle through the hallway. If it is Trixie I’m in dangerous territory because Summer has put me in a mood I’m not feeling completely in control of. I throw the door open and find a courier. He looks at me and gulps.
“Kane Dagger?” he asks.
“Who wants to know?” I growl.
“Um...The state of Illinois,” he says.
“For what reason?”
“You’ve been served,” he says. He hands me an official-looking envelope and jumps back like I’m going to eat him alive.
“Served?”
I tear open the envelope and read over the top page. “What the fucking hell?” I say, angry enough now to bust up every bakery in Chicago. Julie is suing me for custody of Maddie. The courier backs away slowly and I slam the door. All thoughts of Summer disintegrate in the heat of my rage. The courier is right to be scared of me. I’ve never been so pissed off in my entire life!
Chapter 9
Summer
I arrive at the address Maddie gave me on the bus in my nicest outfit, the one I use for interviews and scholarship awards, a grey silk blouse tucked into a blue lace midi skirt and my kitten heels. I’ve kept my glasses on today in lieu of contacts. I need to look like a no-nonsense businesswoman, though I feel more like little red riding hood about to march right into the wolf’s lair. And I didn’t realize the address would be a boxing gym. I clutch the cookie tin to my chest and take a deep breath. Two burly men with tribal tattoos up their necks come out of the gym and eye me with amusement. I think instead of the cookie tin I should have brought my boxing gloves, but you use the strengths you have, and luckily Maddie let it slip that her dad loves peanut butter cookies, the making of which is a strength of mine.
I push open the door of the gym and step inside. The place smells of testosterone and even from the entrance I can hear the disconcerting thwap of someone hitting a punching bag over and over. A fat, bald man in a brown suit sits next to the punching bag munching on a box of crackerjacks, but whoever is attacking the thing so violently is hidden from my view. I step forward and take a deep breath.
“Hello,” I call out, my voice about as tough as a deflating balloon.
The bald man looks over and cracks a lascivious smile. The man punching the bag stills it with his gloved hands. He steps around it and I feel my legs wobble in what seems to be their only response to this man’s presence. He’s shirtless this time, and his chest is covered in black ink tattoos like his arms. He’s sweaty and from the looks of him, if he was working out to relieve some anger, he’s still got a long way to go. He looks twice as murderous as he did last night. He’s wearing shorts and his feet are bare. He is glistening and as muscular as I guessed in my not so wholesome dream last night. As he takes me in, I definitely get a full wolf vibe from him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls.
“I...I brought you cookies,” I say dumbly. What is it about this man that has me struck witless? I was an honor student in college. I gave my valedictorian speech in high school. But him and me and words? Not a good mix. As he wipes his chest with a towel I know
the reason why. My lips want to do things that have nothing to do with talking. Traitorous lips!
The bald man laughs. “The Girl Scouts deliver now? How refreshing.”
“I’m not a Girl Scout,” I say lamely.
“Could have fooled me,” the man chuckles as he crunches on a crackerjack.
Kane steps forward. “Who told you about this place?”
“Um ...Maddie gave me the address on the bus. She wanted me to mail her a few recipes. I thought...this was your house.”
“Maddie,” Kane shakes his head. “She’s not allowed to share our home address,” he says.
“This lady is a friend of Maddie?” The bald man asks.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I say.
“Actually, it’s a short story. Practically a haiku,” Kane says sarcastically. “So why don’t you turn around and march back out of here.”
I take a deep breath, mustering up all my courage. “Listen, I...I’d really like to talk to you...about last night.”
The bald man chuckles. “Now this little haiku is getting interesting. I’m Harry Palmer,” he wipes his hands on his suit and holds one out for me to shake. “I’m Kane’s lawyer.”
“You’re a lawyer?” I say.
“I am,” he says. “And who are you?”
“Summer,” I hold out my hand. “My name is Summer Davis.”
“And we were in the middle of a meeting,” Kane says. “So you, Summer Davis,” he takes my shoulders and spins me around toward the door, “should see your way out.”
I try, very hard, to ignore the current I feel when he touches me. And how much I like how it lights me up.
“But, listen,” I spin back around and shove the cookies at him, in part to keep his hands from touching me again and distracting me from my goal. “I baked these for you so just give me the time it takes you to eat one to make my case.”
Kane refuses the tin like it’s covered in acid, but Harry takes it and pops it open.
“I’ll eat,” Harry says as he pulls out a cookie. “You talk.”
I nod. I keep my eyes on Kane’s feet because pretty much every other part of him makes me uneasy. “I have about ten thousand left of my parent’s insurance. I’ll give that to you as a down payment. Then I’ll pay the rest over the next year. I’ll get the bakery going again. You’ll get every last cent we bring in, plus interest. I’ll take responsibility for whatever Angelo owes you. Just let me keep the bakery. Please. It means everything to me. It belonged to my grandparents. It’s all I have left of my family.” I feel my lip quiver.
Kane shakes his head. “I can’t make that deal. We don’t make deals. And trust me, Summer, today is not the day to come in here and ask me for fucking favors.”
Harry eyes me up and down. “Hold on now. Hold on. I have an idea.”
Kane frowns. “Finally. I was wondering what the hell I was paying you for.”
“You two,” he takes me by the hand and brings me next to Kane. He brings his hands together like a frame and looks at us through it. “Yes!”
“What the fuck are you up to, Harry?” Kane seems deeply unamused to be standing so close to me.
“Summer, have you ever been arrested?” Harry asks.
“Of course not! I don’t even jaywalk,” I say. “You can trust me. I was an honor student. I have great references. I’m careful with money. I’ll make good on the bakery.”
Kane snorts.
“What’s funny about that?” I say, holding my chin up.
“Not even jaywalking? Just fits with your holier-than-thou attitude.”
“You two need to get married,” Harry says as he fishes another cookie out of the tin.
“Excuse me?” I say.
Harry doesn’t address me, but the equally dumbstruck Kane. “You need stability, fast. And mothers tend to win these cases. Summer here is a friend of Maddie right? A girl scout inside and out, and she bakes cookies for Christ’s sake. Look at her!”
Kane glances at me and frowns.
“She looks great on paper, she’ll look great in court. She’s fucking perfect.”
“Perfect for what?” I say.
“No fucking way.” Kane looks at me like what Harry is suggesting is the equivalent of being burned by hot coals. Not that I came here to become some sort of trade for the bakery but I mean, it should be me who’s opposed to it, right?
“I’m not going to sell my body for the bakery,” I say.
“Nobody is asking you to,” Kane growls.
“Yes, no need to imagine that unless you want to,” Harry says. “The marriage is just for show until the custody case is settled.”
Kane glowers at Harry. “I thought lawyers are supposed to be discreet.”
“Custody case?” I ask.
“Maddie’s mom is suing for custody.”
I think about the awful text on my phone. “Why?” I ask.
“I’m sure her parents are putting her up to it. Like you, they don’t think too highly of me.”
I gulp.
Harry nods. “You two get married. We win the case, and if the marriage is never consummated…”
“Not an issue,” Kane says. Once again I want to know what about me makes him so sure he wouldn’t be tempted to consummate a marriage with me. Not that I am even considering this insane idea. Just that, again, what’s so wrong with me that this man wouldn’t want to have sex with me?
Harry nods. “We can have it annulled after the case. You just need Summer to move in for a bit, be around for the caseworker, show that Maddie is better with you two.”
I get where Harry is going and I realize it might just be my only shot. “How long would it last?”
“A few months tops,” Harry says. “You don’t have a boyfriend, right?”
“No,” I say.
“And your parents, they won’t throw a fit?” Harry asks.
“My parents are dead. My grandparents too. Rudy, who owns the bakery, is my uncle ...and my only family. He’s in the hospital now anyway. So, no, nobody will be asking questions.”
I look up and catch Kane looking at me. I can’t handle the feeling it gives me, so I focus back on Harry. “And in exchange, you drop Angelo’s debt?” I ask. “All of it? And the bakery is safe. Would your boss really let you do that? I thought you didn’t make deals?”
“His boss is Maddie’s godfather,” Harry says. “He wouldn’t do a favor for you, but he’d do anything for her.”
“Is that true?” I ask.
“It’s irrelevant,” Kane snaps. “Because it isn’t going to happen.”
Harry takes Kane by the elbow. “It’s your best shot, Kane. Hell, it’s your only shot. You and I both know it.”
“I’ll find someone else,” Kane says.
“The women you know aren’t going to help your case,” Harry shakes his head.
Kane looks at me. I can see the struggle in his eyes and I know he’s asking for my take on all of this. “You’re okay with this?”
I nod. “If it saves the bakery, yes,” I say. “But no physical contact.”
“Not a problem,” he says.
I frown, surprisingly stung by how quick and certain his response is. “I mean, you don’t have to act like I have the plague. And I want an annulment. I plan on getting married once, and forever!”
“How romantic and idiotic,” Kane says.
Harry claps his hands. “Okay. Looks like we have ourselves a partnership. We’ll need to move fast,” he checks the gold watch on his hairy arm. “I can get us a Justice of the Peace in an hour.”
“An hour?” I gulp.
“I need to tell Maddie first,” Kane says. “I won’t lie to her about this. She’ll need to know the truth.”
“Okay, okay,” Harry holds up his hands. “This afternoon. I’ll get something arranged. It should be more authentic anyway. We’ll want pictures too for their lawyers. Need to make it look as real as we can.”
“How do we explain how fast it all is?” I as
k. “Love at first sight?”
Kane snorts.
Harry nods. “I’ll make something up. Can you get a dress?” He turns to me.
I nod, thinking of my mother’s dress back at the bakery.
“You travel with a wedding dress handy?” Kane says sarcastically. “In case you meet your prince charming and fall in love at first sight.”
I ignore his comment and turn back to Harry. “And I want everything in writing, six months tops, no physical contact. This is a wedding in name only. Anything else and the bakery is mine immediately.”
“Relax, Princess. You aren’t that tempting,” Kane snaps back.
“Don’t call me that!” I return. The worst thing growing up was when people confused my shyness for snobbery. Usually, it’s Becca who defends me, but I am on my own now. My fists are curled into balls at my sides but mostly it’s because I want to smack him hard.
“Great! Good! I’ll draw up a contract,” Harry says, stepping between us like a referee. “And Kane, you pick her up at 5. I’ll text you the details. Do we have a deal?”
I don’t want to spend five minutes with this man, let alone the next six months, even if it is fake. Plus, I always thought if I got married it would be, you know, for forever, but right now the bakery seems more important than any silly daydream I had as a kid. I hold out my hand. “Deal,” I say.
Kane stares at my hand like I really do have the plague, but then, reluctantly, he holds a sweaty hand out, nearly crushing mine in his own. “Deal,” he says.
And just like that, I’m engaged.
Chapter 10
Summer
Kane picks me up in a truck and we ride in silence over to a small church. Maddie is nowhere to be seen. I sit quietly with my mother’s wedding dress encased in plastic folded in my lap.
“Will there be a place to change there?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have rings?”