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MARIA
The bell above the bakery door chimed softly as I rubbed tiredly at my eyes. The place smelled like heaven, of coffee and sugary treats, warm enough to thaw the exhaustion still clinging stubbornly to my bones after twelve straight hours at the clinic.
“Morning, trouble,” the baker said when he spotted me walking in.
I snorted softly, leaning tiredly against the counter. “You say that like I’ve done something.”
“You threatened the muffin display yesterday.”
“I was exhausted.” I smiled despite myself.
He smiled while reaching automatically for a takeout cup, already making my order before I even asked. “The usual?”
I nodded gratefully. “Please.”
A minute later, he slid the coffee toward me before grabbing one of the small cardboard bakery boxes from behind the counter. “Strawberry cheesecake today,” he said while boxing it carefully. “You looked disappointed when we ran out yesterday.”
My chest warmed unexpectedly. It was such a tiny thing, but he noticed.
“Are you trying to emotionally manipulate me with baked goods?” I asked, holding out my card toward the reader.
“Is it working?” he asked.
“A little.”
He laughed softly while placing the box down.
The sound of the bakery door opening behind me barely registered at first, until the other patrons seemed to hold their breath.
His scent hit me first, sharp smoke and leather cutting straight through the warmth of sugar and coffee, and every muscle in my body tightened instantly.
Riot.
The warmth inside the bakery disappeared so fast, it almost felt violent.
The baker glanced up before looking carefully between us.
I turned to find Riot stood near the entrance staring hard enough to make my pulse stumble painfully beneath my ribs. Dark hair slightly windblown, broad shoulders tense beneath his kutte like he was already spoiling for a fight. His eyes dropped immediately toward the cheesecake box sitting beside my coffee and something dark crossed his face.
God, not here and not after a twelve-hour shift.
His jaw flexed visibly before the words finally came out rough and ugly. “You fucking him?”
Silence crashed through the bakery so hard even the espresso machine suddenly sounded too loud.
Heat flooded my face instantly, and I glanced at the baker, frozen behind the counter, looking deeply uncomfortable while humiliation burned hot beneath my skin. “Riot,” I hissed.
His eyes never left mine. “You laugh at everything he says.”
“Oh, my God.” I grabbed the coffee and cheesecake box so quickly, I nearly dropped both. “Thanks. I’m sorry,” I muttered hurriedly to the baker before storming toward the door.
“Maria.”
I shoved outside into the freezing morning air hard enough that the bell above the bakery door rattled violently behind me and cold wind hit my face, instantly waking me up.
Footsteps followed immediately behind me. “Maria,” he yelled.
I spun around so fast coffee sloshed over the lid and burned my hand. “What?” I snapped.
