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At one, the bar closed, and Trey took a beer with him and went for a walk. He needed to clear his head. Something was completely off with how he was feeling.
Since graduation he didn’t have to think about June or how he’d bullied her through high school. Seeing her again had awoken all the guilt, and the hunger still simmered deep inside him.
He wanted her badly.
Max was right. June was a hottie. He’d always thought so, and time had only enhanced her beauty.
Moving from classroom to classroom he remembered looking for her. She was the only girl in high school with dark black hair that was natural and not out of a bottle, and she always walked with her head bowed down.
There were times he wanted to see her blue eyes so he’d knock the books right out of her hands. He always felt like an ass, but at least he got a glimpse at her eyes. The worst was getting shit faced at prom, taking his date to a motel and fucking her. All the time he’d been fucking her, his thoughts were on June. She’d gone to prom, without a date, and she’d looked stunning.
The black full length dress she’d worn had molded to every curve. He’d spent most of the night rock hard, his date thinking she was the cause of his aroused state.
Circling back to town, he kicked an empty beer can across the street heading toward his shop. The buzz of the alcohol was fading. He’d walked his way to being sober.
He saw the light shining in Just Another Slice. Stopping at the entrance to his shop he watched as June made her way around the bakery. She wore an apron, and from across the way he saw her face covered in flour.
Walking toward the door, Trey knocked on the glass.
She jumped, looking at him.
Trey waved at her.
****
June looked at the window and saw Trey waving back at her. He looked rough through the glass. Heading toward the door, she unlocked it and opened the door.
“What do you want?” she asked, frowning.
“I was wondering what you’re doing up.”
“Are you drunk?”
“A little.” He smiled down at her. It gave him a dorky look.
“Then why are you here?” she asked, folding her arms.
“I thought I’d come and see you. Your light was on and everything.”
She stared at him, looking past his shoulder.
“I’m alone. No friends with me today. I’m alone.”
“What do you want?”
“How about I keep you company?” he asked.
Why would he keep her company?
“If you’ve been drinking, where’s your woman? I’ve heard legends of how you take more than one woman at a time.”
Trey let out a sigh. “I’m ruined for all women.”
“Whatever. I’ve got work to do. You should go home and sleep it off.” She didn’t close the door. “Fine, you can stay for one hour, but then you’ve got to leave. I’m not having you here all the time.”
She let him through. The stench of alcohol clung to him making her wince.
He followed her down to the back where the large industrial sized mixer was kneading her dough. Trey sat down on the spare seat she kept in the back.
“Are you always up this late?” he asked.
“Do you always spend your Saturdays walking around drunk?” She fired a question back at him.
“I’m an artist. I always have to clear my head. Speaking of artistry, would you like me to ink your beautiful skin?”
Rolling her eyes, June ignored him.
“I see you ignoring me, June Armstrong.”
Considering he was drunk, he sounded pretty coherent to her.
She went through her morning routine, drinking coffee and transferring stuff from the oven through to the main shop.
“I get up at four and start baking by four-thirty. It’s now five-thirty, and it’s time for you to go.”
“Answer me one question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said, standing up.
“Fine.” She headed for the door intent on getting him out of her shop as quickly as she could.
“Why don’t you want me to ink you?” he asked.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.”
“Out of everything you could ask me, you want to know why I don’t want you to ink me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t trust bullies. You’re a bully, Trey. I wouldn’t have you come near my body even if you were a doctor intent on saving my life. I’ve already got ink from someone else I trust. I don’t want or need you to ink me.”
She shoved him out of the door and locked it behind her.
Her heart was racing at her words. She wished she hadn’t spoken at all. When she was in the comfort and safety of the back of the shop, she pressed her head against the refrigerator. Why did he make her lose control of her emotions? She never held a grudge, but with Trey and his friends she couldn’t get past it.
It’s in the past. It’s in the past.
The weight hadn’t fallen off, but she was confident now in herself. She was more than happy with her life.
Going through the motions of the morning she tried to cut all other thoughts out of her mind. At seven Molly walked through with Luke and Sasha trailing behind her.
June smiled at the two and turned a questioning glance at Molly.
“My parents were up all night drinking and fighting. They can’t have them this morning. My babysitter has informed me that Saturday mornings are her mornings, and I’ve got no one else to look out for them. I’m on my own,” Molly said.
Kneeling down in front of the two kids June smiled at each of them ruffling their hair in turn. “You two look tired. Would you like some toast with jam and if I can talk your mommy into it, maybe a cookie?”
Sasha wrapped her arms around her neck. June really did adore these kids.
“You’re like the best boss ever,” Molly said.
June chuckled and headed toward the back, setting up a table for the two little devils. She sectioned off the bakery so they wouldn’t be a problem to their own safety. After getting each of them to promise not to scream or to move outside of the gate, June found Molly in the back.
“Are you all right?” June asked, folding her arms under her breasts.
Molly’s eyes filled with tears. “No, I’m not okay.”
June saw how broken the other woman was. “Do you need to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. It’s going to be a hard couple of weeks. My parents are now refusing to look after them. I couldn’t tell you the truth in front of them. Mom called them bastards and said until I introduced them to their father, she wasn’t helping out anymore.” The tears started to fall.
June listened, keeping an eye on the shop door. From the spot she was standing she kept a good eye on the shop and the kids as well.
“The babysitter thing is the truth. The girl is seventeen with her whole life ahead of her. I knew what it was like at that age.” Molly looked up at the ceiling, the tears falling down her face. “I thought I was over this.”
“They’re great kids, Molly. I don’t mind having them here.”
“It’s not that. No, I’m not going to say it. It’s selfish.”
“What? What is it?” June asked.
“Sometimes I feel I made a mistake. I mean, I love my babies, but getting knocked up at eighteen was never my intention. And it was the worst mistake of my life.” Molly dropped her face into her hands. “What kind of a mother thinks that?”
June walked toward her and hugged her. “I think a lot of young mothers think the same thing. Being a parent is not easy.”
“How would you know?” Molly asked.
“I watch you, and I had another friend at college who was doing it. It’s not easy.” June smiled at her. “I admire you for doing what you do, and if you don’t want to talk about their dad, then don’t.”
“You’re the first person to ever say that,” Molly said.
