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That’s one hell of a compliment, and it makes me feel weird inside. Everything about the way I feel about this woman, the way she makes me feel is just fucking strange. I want her around all the time. I worry about her, and I even give a fuck about how she feels and what she thinks.

“Good to know,” I tell her, brushing the back of my hand on the skin just below her tattoo. “You’re looking good.”

“I am, right?” She flashes a teasing smile, and the light in her eyes is back in full effect. Most of her color is back, and she gets more energy every day. She is clearly, visibly healing.

And best of all? She’s not fucking dead.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Willow

“Thanks, Bobby. It’s good to be back.” I wink at the old-timer and hand him a loaf of bread and half a dozen mini cakes. “Don’t eat all of these at once.”

The old man laughs. “No worries, doll face. This ticker can handle it. But I like you worrying about me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Did you get ideas for new recipes during your, uhm, vacation?”

I laugh. “Hospital food isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Bobby chuckles and walks off, joining his friends at a table in the back.

I’m finally back working atFor Goodness Cakes, but Maven demands that I take it easy, which means I’m on register duty for the foreseeable future.

The bell tinkles at the door, signaling a new customer. I look up and say, “Hi, welcome toFor Goodness Cakes. What can I get for ya today?”

The woman in a business suit smiles. “Is Maven here? I’ve heard great things about her cakes.”

“She is, and she’s busy making those exact cakes,” I tell her with a polite smile. “What cake would you like to try today?”

“Just chocolate,” she says in a snippy voice that puts me on edge. But I’m a professional, so I nod and grab her cake.

“Here you go.” I give her the total. She pays in cash, and then she’s gone.

“Thank fuck,” I mumble and recover as a few more customers come through, smiling and chatting as usual. It’s nice to be back, and after a few more regulars come through the line, I’ve nearly forgotten about the snooty customer.

The afternoon wears on, and my thoughts inevitably turn to Joaquin. The man is absolutely delicious, and I don’t just crave him. I actually love him. He’s been so sweet and tender, and unlike most guys, he didn’t pressure me to have sex while I was healing, which is why I had to beg him for some dick a few days ago.

Since then, it’s been a nonstop fuck-a-thon. My thighs ache, and work is going well. Here I am, just leaning into the happiness of being alive, being in love, and just being.

A new customer appears, a short man with slick black hair and nearly black eyes. “Welcome toFor Goodness Cakes,” I say with my best smile. “Can I interest you in our raspberry cream cookies today?”

He returns a serious expression, and instantly, I can tell something is off about this guy. “Sir?”

He seems to startle. “Oh. Sir. I can’t remember the last time a pretty girl called me sir.” He wiggles his thick brows and unleashes a smile that’s more like a grimace.

I laugh sweetly and shake my head at the compliment. “Thank you. What’ll it be?”

His dark expression lifts, but it seems forced. “Yeah, I’ll have some cookies.” His voice is deep, and his accent is thick, maybe Hispanic.

“Sure. What kind?” I ask and rattle off a few of our best sellers.

His eyes move up and down like he’s examining me a little too closely. An icy shiver runs down my spine.

Finally, he makes up his mind. “Chocolate chip and macadamia nut.”

I box up the cookies, and he hands over the cash with a sneering smile.

I accept the bills and hold my cool. “Thank you, sir.” He doesn’t release the cash, but tugs on it, forcing me to lean in closer.

“Next time, I will make sure the bullet slices through that pretty face of yours,chica.” He flashes what I can only describe as an evil grin before releasing the cash. “Keep the change,” he says and yanks the bag off the counter before strolling away.

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