by Ellie Hall
“I really did.” Her mother’s voice softened.
A woof sounded in the background.
“Frenchie agrees,” her mom said.
“Give her a hug for me.”
“What about me?” Her mom sounded mock-offended.
“Give yourself a hug from me too, Mom.”
Lewellen and Sophie both laughed and then got off the phone.
As she started the massive project of cleaning up her apple-baking mess, washing out the mixing bowls, scrubbing the pans, and putting everything back where it belonged, she felt freer and lighter. Maybe her attempt at fully letting go of Hayden had worked. Now, she just needed to get stronger but that would mean taking the boxer babe up on his offer.
Sophie’s hand, covered in soap suds, flew to her mouth as if she’d spoken the words out loud. She hadn’t, but she’d thought them and the heat flushing her cheeks was enough to confirm that she was indeed attracted to him.
After cleaning up, she reviewed the schedule with Keisha and then sent her home. It was dark out and she had Jonathan go with her to take out the trash. For all his bravado, he lingered by the back door. When a sound came from nearby, he startled. Obviously, he wouldn’t be much help if something did happen, but she noticed the box of baked goods was gone.
When they started closing tasks in the front, Jonathan repeatedly stopped restocking and went on his phone.
She picked up the slack and hurriedly got everything done. It had been yet another long day. However, as she surveyed the bakery, she was glad of it. She’d rather put in long days doing what she loved and loving what she did than living the life someone else expected of her—be it her mother or her ex.
“Hey, my band is playing at Bar Two-One-Two tonight,” Jonathan said absently.
“Cool,” she answered as she swept the floor.
“You could come,” he said, not looking up from his phone.
She paused. “Oh, that’s so nice of you to invite me, but I’m not really a bar-going kind of gal and I have things to catch up on.”
He mumbled something and didn’t meet her eyes.
She resumed sweeping, trying to make it seem like no big thing. “Keeping track of the financials, planning ahead for pie season, you know. It’s a near-constant job at least while I get things going around here.” She realized she was rambling but didn’t want to insult him.
“Wow. Sounds like a good time,” a gravelly voice said.
She looked up and her gaze landed on a set of icy blue eyes. Teagh stepped closer and the ground practically shook as he walked. He was confident. Powerful. Masculine.
Butterflies unfurled their wings and took flight in Sophie’s belly. The sensation within startled her.
“We’re closed,” Jonathan said, finally tearing his eyes from his phone.
Teagh didn’t acknowledge him.
“I can warm up some water for tea,” she offered.
He shook his head. “I came to see you home safely.”
Chapter 6
Teagh
“You don’t have to see me home,” Sophie said. “I’ll be here a bit longer and wouldn’t want to hold you up.”
He stepped closer, no longer able to resist his desire to protect her from men in alleys and whatever else Manhattan had hiding in its underbelly.
She shifted from foot to foot and then dropped the broom handle she’d been holding. It clattered on the tile floor.
The skinny kid that had been on his phone when Teagh had entered the bakery stood there looking foolishly arrogant as his phone continued to beep with texts. Teagh picked up the broom and started sweeping. If he helped, it wouldn’t take quite so long.
“Seriously, you don’t have to—” She swiped for the broom.
He was bigger and faster and shook his head. “I’ll do this. You do whatever else you need to do to close up. That way we can get out of here faster.”
The truth was, Teagh had been inhaling the delicious scent of warm apples and cinnamon all day as it wafted over to his side in the gym. It was a far more pleasant aroma than what was sure to be the sweat-filled air that would fill the gym in about a week when it officially opened. Each time he caught a whiff of the apple scent he thought of the baker, distracting him all day long. As evening fell, he also legitimately wanted to make sure she made it home safely.
“That’s not really necessary—”
“It’s very necessary,” he said, interrupting her.
He’d told himself that he was eager to get home and take a cold soak in the bathtub because his muscles were sore after giving the heavy bag the full impact of his anger at seeing Teresa the day before. It was only a matter of time before she turned up at the gym.
But that wasn’t all.
He also had zings under his skin each time his mind landed on the picture of the baker’s face, her eyes, her full cheeks, and her even fuller lips. He had to do something to cool himself off.
She huffed then went about clearing out the display case. She was even pretty when she was annoyed.
The skinny, pale kid finally put his phone in his pocket then clapped his hands together. “Hey, Sophie, you sure you don’t want to come to the club to see my band? We could grab something to eat and then head over there together.”
Sophie. It was a pretty name.
Sophie shook her head. “It’s nice that you invited me, but I have to be up early to open tomorrow. Baker’s hours and all.”
“If you change your mind, the address for the bar is Second Ave and East Tenth.”
Teagh didn’t like the notion of her going to a bar with a frail dude who didn’t even have the decency to use her name and instead had said, “Hey” when addressing her. Never mind the fact that it was unprofessional of him to ask his boss to a bar to see his band.
He felt like grumbling and telling the kid how to properly speak to a lady but held his tongue. It wasn’t his place.
Sophie nodded. “See you tomorrow, Jonathan.”
“Oh, yeah, uh, do you mind if I come in around eleven instead of eight? I think it’s going to be a late-night with EV DC.”
She straightened from behind the pastry case. “Actually, I do mind. We discussed schedule changes earlier and how to plan in advance. I need you here for the morning rush.”
“Couldn’t you call Keisha?”
Sophie’s lips formed a thin line.
Teagh had finished sweeping and stood by the long marble counter that ran along the brick wall that separated his gym from Sophie’s bakery. He caught sight of her reflection as her hand lifted to her hip.
“Jonathan, it’s true that I’m new at being a boss. You may have also noticed that I’m flexible and understanding, but I am also one-hundred-percent dedicated to the success of this bakery. If you’re not on board for that or if you have priorities outside the job you applied for here then I imagine your services will be better appreciated elsewhere.”
Jonathan mumbled something, but she wasn’t finished.
“My question to you is will you be here tomorrow at eight or do I need to hire someone else?”
Mic. Drop.
Her gaze didn’t waver from Jonathan as she awaited his answer.
Teagh’s bore into the dude.
“Yes, ma’am. I will be here at eight,” Jonathan stammered.
“That’s more like it,” Teague muttered.
“Good and good luck at your gig.”
At that, Jonathan left.
Teagh felt the edge of his lip lifting in an amused smile, something that hadn’t happened in a long time—at least not until encountering her. His palms came together as he gave her a soft clap. “Well done, lady boss.”
She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes as though insulted by his comment.
“I mean it. As a new business owner myself, I’m taking notes and I’m impressed,” he said.
She returned to cleaning. “I’ve put everything I have into this bakery and want to set expectations from the start. Also, my mother,
despite her—” Sophie let out a sharp breath as though searching for the right word among some not so polite ones. “Despite her well-intentioned but belated concern for my welfare, taught me manners. She didn’t seem to care that Hayden totally used me, but—” Sophie stopped herself again. “No. I let that go. Sorry.”
Whatever she was talking about, if she let it go, so would he. He told himself her personal life and whoever Hayden was, was no business of his. But he secretly wanted her to be a part of his personal life.
“Pretty, polite, and a leader...” The words had fallen from his mouth before he could stop them.
Her cheeks tinted a shade of pink that reminded him of the first blush of dawn. “Well, thank you, I guess.”
A moment of silence passed between them.
Teagh cleared his throat. “My nose led me to the scent of apple. You sure did a lot of baking today.” He gestured to the counters brimming with an assortment of muffins, scones, and cookies.
“That I did,” she said around a laugh as though just realizing how much she’d baked.
He wondered if baking was to her what boxing was to him. Comfort. Control. Release.
“A whole bushel of apples, washed, chopped, and baked.” She dusted her shoulders.
Teagh felt a real, true smile brewing on his lips. He hadn’t been expecting it, but she was funny, spunky, and not the delicate flower he’d assumed her to be. “So, are you ready to head back home?”
She tilted her head at the word home. “Home,” she repeated.
“I meant the building. The one we both live in.”
“I know, except for college and up until recently, home was a small town near Wilmington, North Carolina that no one has ever heard of and I hadn’t thought of home as being anywhere else, but I guess that’s changing.”
“My mother used to say, ‘home is where the heart is.’” He shrugged off the maxim and wanted to be free of the strange and sentimental mood he was suddenly in. He wasn’t one to blurt out that a woman was pretty or talk about hearts.
“Mine says that too and believe me, she’d much prefer I was back there.”
Teagh cleared his throat, missing his own parents right then. “Well, shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the door.
“I have a few more things to do.”
“I can wait.”
“You sure?” she asked. “I don’t want to trouble you.”
He nodded. “No trouble.” But that was exactly what he sensed he might get into if he spent any more time with her. Still, he was driven to do the right thing and after the attack, in good conscience, he couldn’t let her walk home alone.
She started bagging up items from the display case and arranging them in a cardboard pastry box. He was about to tell her she didn’t have to give him any more goodies when she disappeared to the kitchen.
The door had a glass porthole-like window and he peeked through it just as she exited out the back door and into the alleyway.
He charged through, not caring that a small placard on the door said employees only.
Once outside, he spotted her setting the box down behind the dumpster where the vagrant had made his home. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
She stood tall and planted her hands on her hips. “What do I think I’m doing?” She shook her head dismissively.
“Yeah, because clearly, you’re not thinking. Didn’t yesterday prove that it’s dangerous to be out here alone? Even more so now that it’s after dark.”
“I happened to make a very clear and decisive choice to offer this poor man, who was so desperate that he’d raise a knife to me, something to eat. Baked goods are all I have at the moment so that’s what he gets. Plus it might make him happy. It doesn’t seem like his quality of life is all that high.”
“It’s not safe.” Teagh was shocked, exasperated.
“What’s not safe or smart are people in our community, in our backyard,” she gestured around with her hands, “and our back alley going hungry and resorting to violence because maybe they made some bad choices that landed them on hard times, hungry, and without any resources.”
Teagh let out a long breath and shifted. She had a point. Martial arts had straightened out his ego at a young enough age that he was man enough to admit when someone else was right, but her being out there alone wasn’t at all sensible. “Fair enough, but I’d like you to do one thing for me.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You will call me, holler for me, or knock out a Morris Code message on the adjoining wall between our businesses to tell me when you’re feeling like being a good Samaritan because I won’t have you back here alone.”
She pressed her lips together as though ready to retort then must’ve thought better of it. “Fair enough,” she said, echoing his words and then she burst out laughing. The sound filled the otherwise grimy space with what sounded like unrestrained joy.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She stepped closer and then poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “You.”
“Me?” he said, looking around and then pointing at himself. “I’m many things but funny isn’t one of them.”
“Morris Code? Dot-dot-dot-dot, dot-dash.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Do it twice and it means ha ha.” She laughed again.
The smile on her lips forced a crack in his stony exterior, but the alley was dim and he doubted she could see it. But he felt it and the sensation reminded him of the little twinge of hope that the lightening sky of dawn brings after a long and lonely night.
“When my best friend Jennifer and I were young we lived on either side of a duplex and would send Morris Code messages back and forth late into the night.”
“Speaking of night, we should head back home.”
“Right.” She brushed past him and back inside.
The smile remained on her face even as she locked up and as they started down the sidewalk toward Park Avenue. How could she be so happy? She’d nearly been attacked, had a long day at work, and if her experience as a business owner was anything like his, she was up to her elbows in administrative tasks on top of running the show. Granted, Teagh was calm under pressure but didn’t walk around with a smile on his face and laughter on his lips. He forced himself not to think about her lips.
When they reached the stone and brick building, Sophie passed Mr. Spinigotti, the doorman, a paper bag. “Presenting, the biscotti flavor of the day: pistachios and cardamom.”
“My favorite.” He tipped his hat at her and said, “Thank you, signorina.” Then he turned to Teagh. “You have company. Couldn’t turn them away, Signore Coyle, even though they weren’t yet on your approved list.”
Thunder rushed into Teagh’s veins. Teresa and Darren were no guests of his. He was already tired of her games even though he was sure they were only just beginning.
He knew the law inside and out but would have to schedule a meeting with his lawyer in the States. He’d gone there to start over and there was no way she’d touch his gym.
“They’re in the lounge on the left enjoying some tea.” Mr. Spinigotti pointed down the hall. “Such a strong resemblance.”
Teagh had the mind to brush off his ex and just go upstairs. Instead, he strode toward the room Mr. Spinigotti indicated. He needed to make a few things clear to Teresa and end things before they got out of hand, much the way the baker had with her employee—” He realized he didn’t know her name.
He stopped midstride realizing she was still beside him as a couple emerged from the lounge. They both spoke at the same time in their thick, but familiar accents. He nearly stumbled and the baker knocked into him. He gripped her arm, steadying her. Their eyes locked for a long moment before he turned to his parents.
“Teagh, where’ve you been? Why weren’t you answering your phone? Who’s this beauty?” His mother and father both spoke at once and over each other.
“Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?”
&nb
sp; They weren’t scheduled to arrive until late Thursday night. Had he been so wrapped up in getting the gym started that he’d lost a day?
“Well, that’s a fine way to greet us, son.” His father drew him into a hug easily forgiving the less than friendly greeting.
“I thought you were coming for the wedding?” Teagh considered the possibility that he got the dates for the event mixed up.
His mother lifted onto her toes and kissed him on each cheek then gripped one and said, “You’re looking a bit tired. Overworked?”
“I—” He was going to explain, but they’d moved onto greeting the baker then each flashed him the same knowing smile.
“Now we understand what’s kept you late this evening, away from your phone, and forgetting all about your wee mother and father.” His mother beamed.
“I’m not wee,” his dad said.
“I know that, dear, I was referring to myself. And what about this lass? Where are your manners Teagh, what’s her name? Introduce us.”
Everyone turned to the baker whose eyes were the same amount of wide as they had been when he’d first walked into her bakery. Not scared like the deer in headlights he’d first assumed, but perhaps overwhelmed. Still, her eyes were a shade of green only found in his native country, home. He staggered a breath because home was where the heart was.
“I’m Sophie Johannsson,” she said, recovering. She held out her hand to shake.
“Clyde and Margaret Coyle.” His parents both started at once, introducing the other.
Both his mother and father launched into a dozen questions, overlapping each other and not letting either Sophie or Teagh answer.
Sophie’s eyebrows knitted together and she looked to Teagh as though asking to once more be rescued.
“Oh, we just adore her already. We have dinner reservations. Let’s hurry so we’re not late.” His mother scuttled toward the entry.
Teagh’s chin tucked back. “But you just got here.”
“And we’re hungry, son. Remember there’s a time difference and they don’t feed you on the airplane like they used to. Not that I’d want to eat any of it, mind you.” His father gripped the lapels of his tweed jacket—the one reserved for church, weddings, funerals, and apparently, travel.
