It was pretty amazing.
I elbowed him gently. “That was a nice thing you did. Sherri deserved to win.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t win either,” he said.
“Eh. There’s more to life than gingerbread,” I said with a laugh. There was no way I’d been in the running with my disaster castle, but I’d found I didn’t care. I had other things to occupy my time—other things being the cute, distractingly sexy redhead next to me. “Besides, my ‘ruined hopes and dreams’ entry was a statement piece, not a crowd-pleaser.”
“Was the statement ‘my cat is a fucking menace’?” Finn asked, grinning.
“Maybe,” I said, still laughing. I was doing a lot of that lately.
“Oh!” Finn said. “Speaking of Asshole.” He handed me a shopping bag.
I peeked inside and grinned when I found a box with a set of eight coffee mugs. After Asshole’s latest efforts, I was downto only one—and now that Finn was in my life, most mornings I needed two.
“Thanks,” I said and beamed up at him. He pressed a kiss to my temple, and the way his lips lingered told me he had plans for later.
I was on board with that.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I might not have a trophy, but it still feels like I’m winning at life.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning into his side and soaking up the warmth of him. “That makes two of us.”
Epilogue
FINN
Eight Months Later
Sorry, closed, I mouthed at the tiny, wide-eyed blonde woman who had her face pressed against the glass door of Kelly’s Bakery—thelockeddoor.
Her brow creased, and she frowned and tried the door handle, then cupped her ear and made praying hands.
Yeah, I wasn’t falling for that trick. If I opened the door to talk to her, then I ran the risk of her pushing her way inside, and I was well and truly done for the day. The till was locked away, the staff had gone home, and we were closed.
The blonde, who looked to be in her twenties, tapped angrily against the glass and rattled the door handle, then pointed past me to the bakery display case where my signature range of gingerbread men was housed. They were made with Cameron’s recipe, and we did a roaring trade in them year-round after some influencer had raved about them being agingergasm.The girl pointed again and held up five fingers. She was obviously on a mission, and it looked like she wasn’t going to take no for ananswer. So I did the only sensible thing. I pulled down the blind, hiding her from view, and walked back through to the back of the bakery.
I grinned as I heard her outraged squawk. There were some perks to being the boss.
One of the things I’d promised myself when I’d bought the bakery from Ava Harris and rebranded it as Kelly’s four months ago was that I wasn’t going to put myself under undue stress, and so far I was keeping that promise. Even though business was thriving, I didn’t let myself fall into the trap of trying to do it all myself—I knew from past experience that never ended well. Instead, I hired enough staff that even though we were open seven days a week, I could take a couple of days off every week without the place falling apart.
It helped that I had Cameron waiting for me at the end of the day. The thought of him was far more tempting than anything the bakery could offer. I spent most nights at his place, and even though it meant getting up earlier to drive into town, it was a price I was happy to pay for the man who loved me.
I set about making sure everything was clean and stored away, and I was almost done wiping down the stainless steel work surfaces when I heard the back door opening. I turned to see Cameron standing in the doorway, one hand tucked in the pocket of his jacket. “Hey,” I said. “I’m almost done.”
Cameron stayed standing where he was and ran a hand along the back of his neck. “So, can we talk?”
I froze in place, and my insides twisted. “Talk?”
“Yeah.” The nerves that were throwing a riot in my guts calmed down some when he stepped forward, cupped my face, and kissed me, reassuring me that he probably wasn’t about to break up with me—it was just that my boyfriend was really awful at important conversations.
Case in point, the first time Cameron had said he loved me hadn’t been over a candlelit dinner or accompanied by any big romantic gestures. No, it had just been Cameron sprawled against my chest one cold February morning after we’d exchanged blow jobs, giving me a fucked-out smile and casually saying, “Hey, Finn? I love you.”
I’d been misty-eyed when I’d said it back, but I’d also made him promise to say it again when he wasn’t in a sex haze. He’d laughed and said it every day since.
We both had.
So no, Cameron wasn’t here to break up with me. “What do you want to talk about?” I said easily, running my hands down his sides and cupping his ass.
