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Annabelle
Imay have a little extra pep in my step Wednesday morning when I stop by the bakery before opening the studio. I’m not really a morning person. I loathe being woken up before six a.m. But that was before Declan Sinclair woke me up at five this morning with his mouth on my pussy.
Forget Folgers in my cup, I’ll take Declan in my bed.
On second thought, why do I have to choose?
I want them both.
He spent the night again Sunday night and basically hasn’t slept in his own bed since. It’s only been a few nights, but I think he’s moving in. Monday night, he came home after practice and helped me make dinner. I noticed he had an overnight bag with him and left some of his manly stuff in my bathroom. He’s made sure he leaves before Tommy wakes up. Even yesterday, when he didn’t have practice, he was out of bed and out of the house by six a.m.
I guess we should probably talk about it.
I need to talk to Tommy about it too. I need to know how much of it he understands.
That should be fun.
When Amelia comes out from the kitchen, she looks more annoyed with life than usual. Her curly black hair is a mess, and what I think is powdered sugar covers her grey t-shirt and dark skinny jeans. “Hey, you okay?”
She blows her hair out of her face before answering me. “Yeah. I had a late night last night, working on Thanksgiving orders for pick up today. And now, my mixer’s acting up on me. Whatever. It is what it is.” With that, she turns around and starts on my usual coffee order. Guess I’m dismissed.
Plastic-domed pie tins line an entire side of the back counter. Pink bakery boxes with her minty green logo line the other. “Wow. You did all this last night?” That had to take hours.
“Yeah. I’m a new business, so I didn’t want to turn away any orders. I’ve already got yours bagged up. Do you want it now, or do you want to grab it later?” She turns around and hands me my pumpkin spice coffee.
“I’ll take it now. I’ve got a fridge at the studio. Hey, can I get some whip cream and cinnamon on this? I’m craving something sweet.” I look at the cases while I hand her back my to-go cup. “Oh. I’ll take two of those double-stuffed cream-filled donuts too, please.”
When she hands me my bag, she’s shaking her head. “How the hell do you stay as tiny as you do and eat like this? Not that I want you to stop. You’re my best customer.” She winks and sips from a bottle of water kept under the counter.
“Dancing all day will do it for you,” I answer, slightly embarrassed.
“Yeah. We’ll go with the dancing. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the hottie keeping your bed warm.” She walks around the counter with my pink Sweet Temptations bag in her hand. I ordered a few pies and some chocolate chip cookies for tomorrow night.
“Nope. The hottie in my bed may be the reason I’m tired, but dance and good genetics are the reason I can eat whatever I want.” Amelia looks shocked before we both laugh. “Oh, shoot. Can I add a few of those doggie cookies too? Just in case Rocky’s at Coach’s tomorrow?”
“Yup.” She plucks three cookies out of the glass canister on top of the bakery case and adds them to my bag. “You sure you’re gonna be able to carry all this, Belles?”
“I’ve got it. Thanks. Have a happy Thanksgiving, Amelia.” I step forward and hug her. She doesn’t reciprocate. Amelia’s not exactly touchy-feely, so I’m not surprised.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Annabelle.” She may not hug me, but she smiles and pats my shoulder. She’s getting there. One day she’ll open up. Until then, I’ll take what I can get.
That night when I get a text from Declan, letting me know he’s on his way over and asking if I need him to pick anything up, I decide it’s time to have a conversation with Tommy. We’ve just locked up the studio for the day and gotten into my car when the text comes through, so I guess there’s no time like the present.
Glancing back at him through the rearview mirror, I see him looking at his iPad. “Hey, Tommy...” I say to get his attention.
His eyes meet mine momentarily before going back to whatever has his attention on the screen.
What the hell am I supposed to say? Your sister’s an idiot who’s fallen in love with a professional football player? Wanna put your heart on the line next to mine?
Obviously, that won’t do. “Tommy,” I try again. “Do you like Declan coming over like he’s been doing?”
I have no idea what’s going to come out of his mouth and breathe a sigh of relief when he answers, “Yup. Yup. Declan’s awesome.” He starts laughing his loud, boisterous laugh, and I relax. “Can he sleep in my room tonight?”
So much for relaxing. “What?” Please, please, please let him not be talking about what I think he is.
“It’s my turn to have Declan sleep in my room, Belles. He’s my friend, not yours.” His laughter gets louder, and he claps his hands. “Sharing is caring, Belles.”
Well, shit. I’m the one who taught him “sharing is caring.” What the hell am I supposed to say now? “I think he’s too big for your bed, little man.” Okay, that was pretty good. “And, since sharing is caring, what do you say about you sharing Declan with me?” I wait a moment before adding, “Please?” Not too bad.
