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“Fake stripper. Van. In my bakery.”
All the color drains from her face. Her hand stretches out to steady herself against a table as her legs wobble. A second later, her eyes flutter closed, and her body goes limp. Acting fast, I’m at her side, catching her before she hits the floor. With Holland—or Hollyn—in my arms, I carefully lower us to the ground. As I sit next to her, I hold her to my chest. I’ve never had anyone faint in front of me before. I stare down at her face. The same sloping nose and full lips I remember from our night together. I brush a loose strand of hair from her forehead. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, and I’m greeted with gold speckled hazel eyes.
“There you are.” I smile down at her.
“What happened?” Her brows furrow in confusion.
“You took one glance at my handsome good looks and fainted.” Her eyes flit back and forth as she searches mine to see if I’m telling the truth. “Maybe not the first part, but you did faint.”
“I’m sorry.” She moves to sit up, but falters.
“Slow. Take it easy. Let me get you some water.” I help her to a sitting position and glance around the kitchen, unsure of where anything is.
“There’s some bottled water in the black fridge.” She moves to stand, but I stop her.
“I’ll grab it.” I locate the fridge on the far side of the kitchen. Once I reach it, I open the door and fetch a bottle. With hurried steps, I’m back in front of her. I crouch down and sit on the floor next to her. I twist open the cap and hold the bottle out to her. She takes a sip and then turns to me.
“Thanks. I’m sorry. I’m sure I look like a mess.” She glances down at her wrinkled flannel shirt and yoga pants. Then her hand flies to her mop of hair in a messy bun held up with a bandana. “Wait, why are you here?”
“It appears when my mom passed away, I inherited her bakery.” I wave a hand in front of us before dropping my arm in my lap.
“Your mom is Della?” Her head flinches back slightly.
“Yes.”
She peers off into the distance as if she’s deep in thought. “You’re Della’s son Vance?”
“That’s me. My mom was the only one who called me Vance. Everyone else calls me Van.”
She presses her fingers to her thumb as if she’s counting. “So that makes you twenty something. At least twenty-one since you were at the club…”
“Twenty-four.”
“Oh. Shit.” Her eyes go wide again.
“How old are you?”
“Not twenty-four.”
I bark out a laugh. “Let’s move on to a more neutral topic. You know my mom, so you’re not a stranger robbing the place. It’s my turn to ask, why are you here?”
“I work here with your mom. Worked. Sorry about her passing.” Her features soften and she rests a hand on my forearm.
“Thanks. But why are you here right now? Baking?”
“Oh.” Hollyn pulls her hand away and rests them in her lap. “Before your mom…passed, we were in the middle of a couple of orders. The customers had already paid, and we already had all the ingredients, so I wanted to make sure I got those fulfilled.”
“So, you break in and bake?” I give her a slight smile.
“I have a key. So technically, I didn’t break in. When Mr. Goldman called me to tell me about what happened to Della, he also told me she gave him firm directions to have me finish these orders and he would take care of everything else. She couldn’t bear the thought of her customers having to settle for some leftover store-bought baked goods, her words not mine.” She takes a sip of her water.
A small laugh escapes me. “That sounds exactly like something she would say. She takes a lot of pride in her work.”
“And she loved her customers. They came to this bakery because they loved the passion your mom puts into her baking. And I didn’t want that to be forgotten.” Tears prick her eyes, then a lone droplet rolls down her cheek.
Normally, emotions are not my thing, unless it’s caused by an orgasm, but this is different. I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight to my chest. I get a whiff of her familiar sweet vanilla scent. Thoughts of our night together over a month ago flit through my mind. Fuck. Now is not the time to think of her naked body against mine. She drops her head to my chest and soft sobs escape her throat, pulling me from my daydream. “I didn’t know my mom meant that much to you.”
Hollyn sniffles and mumbles into my shirt. “She’s been there since I finished culinary school. She took me under her wing and taught me everything I know. I can’t fathom the idea that she’s not here anymore. Not only for me, but the entire community. Everyone loves this bakery.”
