He set his fists on his hips. “Enough to stay in Harlot’s Bay?”
“I...” Her brow crinkled in confusion. “Iamstaying in Harlot’s Bay. Currently, in a ten-foot-wide house built as a fraternal middle finger.”
Hadn’t they already had this discussion? And hadn’t a mixture of guilt and lust and her lost bet to Lise led to an entire month spent far away from home?
His eyes rolled to the drop ceiling. “Long-term, Dearborn.”
Her mouth clamped tight as she processed that question and what it implied. What it revealed about what he truly wanted.
Was her moving to Harlot’s Bay his real end goal here? Rather than getting her to trust him enough that he’d feel comfortable fucking her, as he’d led her to believe, or—more ambitiously—enough that she’d consider a long-distance relationship?
If so, why hadn’t he told her before?
Because if he wanted her to trust himso muchthat she’d uproot her life and move across an entire continent for him, if that was the fundamental reason they were cycling through various corporate trust-building exercises, then... wow. When she’d thought that Karl wanted everything, she hadn’t realized whateverythingtruly entailed for him.
She genuinely didn’t know what it would take to trust him so completely. And even if she figured out what was required, the prospect of putting that much faith in yet another man terrified her.
Once again, he’d left her with only one honest answer to a very difficult question.
“I don’t think so,” she told him quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
Then, before he could push her even harder, she snatched up her bag and fled the bakery.
14
Well, that blew.
Not the blind taste test—andespeciallynot the orgasm he’d given Molly, which was amazing. Maybe the most satisfying sexual experience of Karl’s goddamn life, and he hadn’t even taken off his pants. Knowing that he’d pleased her, that Molly fucking Dearborn had writhed and gasped and come so hard against his hand that she hadn’t been able to stand without assistance?
Karl Andrew Dean, passable small-town baker and crotchety hermit, had split his skin. Transformed into Karlzilla, towering over skyscrapers. Karl Kong, beating his chest from a mile high. Captain Harlot’s Bay, strong enough to heft the world on his tireless shoulders.
Predictably, all that testosterone and self-satisfaction had made him stupid. Made him think he’d won the war when he apparently didn’t even understand the rules of battle.
She trusted him more than before—but not enough. He had no idea what he was doing wrong. Time was running short.
And that part? Yeah. It totally blew.
Once Karl washed his hands thoroughly and cleaned up his worktable, grumbling to himself all the while, he reluctantly texted Matthew and Athena to ask if he could come over to their house that night to get some advice.
Athena responded by asking whether he’d been body-snatched by an alien, because of course she fucking did. Hassling him? Thatwoman’s favorite hobby. No, her goddamnraison d’être. Good thing his best friend would stick up for—
Who are you?Matthew wrote.And what have you done with Karl “Interpersonal Communication Is Poison to Me” Dean?
Traitorous bastard!
Karl sent them a row of middle-finger emojis.
Ah, there you are, Special K, Athena replied.Congratulations on inhabiting your own body again! In answer to your question, I would be more than happy to impart my immense wisdom concerning any matter you have in mind. And by “any matter you have in mind,” I clearly mean Molly. Because you are so incredibly gone for that woman, it’s almost comical, and nothing and no one else would drive you to exchange actual human words with us at your own behest.
Karl contemplated tossing his cell in the garbage disposal.
Matthew added,Come on over whenever you like, Karl. We’re not going anywhere.
I’LL BE THERE, Karl pecked out.TO MURDER BOTH YOU DICKS.
Athena posted a fireworks emoji.Can’t wait! BYOMW!
Karl’s brows drew together. Bring Your Own... Mulled Wine? Neither Athena nor Matthew was a big drinker, but maybe—
