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My belly rolls and my skin ices over. I have to be sure. He can’t be here.
I nod my head slowly, not wanting to lie to myself or him. But I can’t do anything else right now.
I push the scary thoughts out of my head and smile. “Are you here to see me or just here to pick up your usual?”
His harsh face softens into a look that has my fists clenching, fingernails digging into my palms. Fuck, this guy is sex on a stick!
“Can’t I do a little of both?”
Wicked, wicked man! If only I didn’t like it so much.
“Absolutely you can.” I reach up and caress his rough stubble, smirking when he turns his lips into my palm. I gulp, my breath stalling in my lungs. It’s so hard to breathe.
Petal-soft, he kisses my palm and my heart pounds, my chest so tight it’s a miracle any breath gets through. His breath is so warm that it’s like an instant zing right to my pussy. Right where I need him so bad.
When did I decide that we couldn’t be together? Why?
I can’t be sure but one thing I’m sure of right now is that I’d gladly climb him like a fucking Wrangler-wearing tree but until I’ve got this figured out and he is as interested as I am, that’s not happening.
I can’t believe I’m standing here thinking about sleeping with any man after Max. He made my life a misery and I’ve just started to feel more settled and calm here.
“Let me get your twist,” I whisper and duck away from him, hoping to get my body under control with some space.
But now that I’ve put it out there, I’m not liking how I’m feeling. My stomach is twisted, my heart pounding, my eyes darting back and forth. Surely I’m right and he’s not out there. Not sitting somewhere watching me.
Not outside my house slashing my tires and waiting for the opportunity to strike.
I bag up Rory’s twist and he grins, tipping his hat like the gentleman he is. “Thanks, darlin’. I’ll talk to you later.”
And he turns to go outside, leaving me with that view that always makes me quake.
His ass is a thing of beauty, I swear.
As the day wears on and I sell my wares and bake some more, I can’t stop thinking about two very different things.
Rory’s ass should be gold-plated in his Wranglers.
And I hope to hell that Max isn’t anywhere near me. I hope that he’s bugging some other poor girl, even if I shouldn’t wish that on anybody.
Because nobody deserves the crazy that that man brings down on your head. I’ve seen it and I hope to never see it again.
Chapter 8
Rory
Sitting outside the little bakery, I keep my eyes on the front door although I also keep my senses open so that if I see something on the periphery, I can immediately react. Because I have a feeling that Callie’s not just having a run of bad luck. There’s more at play here than just a little luck giving out.
This feels personal. I don’t know exactly what is going on but I know enough to know that.
So I sit outside and watch from my truck, my eyes glued to the golden glow that is Callie’s rounded figure. She’s smiling and laughing at something one of her customers is saying but I can see the tense look of her shoulders and the way her eyes keep skittering back and forth in a way that looks like she’s not sure that her assertion was valid.
My eyes dart back and forth and I see a shadow in the alley that has me narrowing my eyes. I want to leap out and check but if I do that I kill the surprise if he does show up.
I know that I’m having a hard time keeping away from Callie sometimes and we haven’t even gone that far. Just a kiss but it made my heart soar.
If some asshole is so hung up on her that he’s still trying to contact her then he’s still hung up on her no matter what she thinks.
My phone rings and I reach out and pick up the call. “Yeah?” I mutter gruffly.
