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Chapter 20
Remy
Two weeks later, Remy walked into a clean industrial building with Mikel by her side. He’d been quiet for most of the ride to the city. Her brow creased as she studied him. Anxiety swirled in her belly as a weight settled on her shoulders.
They took their time perusing the shelves filled with more baking and cooking equipment than Remy would know what to do with. Running her finger around the bumps of a porcelain mixing bowl, she checked him out again over her shoulder. Under his eyes were dark rings of exhaustion. He was pushing himself too hard. Was it part of the withdrawals? Would he still be affected weeks after stopping?
He scowled at his phone.
“You okay?”
Mikel snapped his head up, as if he’d forgotten she was with him. “Yeah.” He pushed the phone into his pocket. Looping his arms around her waist, he breathed in the crook of her neck. His grown-out scruff tickled her sensitive skin and somehow turned her on at the same time. She giggled. “If you could pick out anything for that bakery of yours, what would you need?”
She surveyed the line of KitchenAids and other mixers. “Probably a few of these. Maybe an industrial-sized one.”
“That’s a lot of cookies,” he joked.
“Mm-hmm.”
“What about pans?” he asked, stepping away from her to pick up a few metal ones.
“Yes, I’ll probably need, like, fifty sheet pans. Oh, and cooling racks.”
He led her through the store, holding her hand as she looked around. As time wore on, his phone became glued to his palm and the frown on his face deepened. She could spend all day in a store like this, feeding her dreams of what if and someday. Mikel had been sweet to offer to come with her. But now he wasn’t fully present. He sure is distracted and on his phone a lot.
“Are you sure nothing is the matter?” She turned towards him. Mikel didn’t respond, so she reached out and touched his face. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
Mikel’s jaw clenched under her fingertips. “Nothing. Can you stop asking me that?” He was short with her—a side of him she’d been seeing more of—but it was unpredictable when this version of Mikel would come out.
“I’m just worried about you.” She had a right to be, after all that had happened.
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “Well, don’t be. I’m fine. But if I say I’m in need of some of your goodies for stress relief, would that convince you to get out of here with me faster?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, making her laugh.
“Oh, I see. You’re bored. Well then, I suppose I could be persuaded.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but she halted him with a finger to his lips.
“But first, I need lunch.”
He enveloped her hand in his and kissed her palm. “There’s a café down the block.”
* * *
As she set her fork on her empty plate and leaned back, Mikel’s thumb swept across the glass screen of his phone for what seemed the millionth time today. Was it another woman? Pain squeezed her chest like a vise as her stomach rolled over in protest. Mikel wouldn’t do that. Would he? “Is there a reason you’ve had that thing glued to your hand all day?” she asked, the bite of jealousy lacing her words.
Mikel glanced at her. Seconds ticked by as a myriad of emotions played over his features.
“Is it … a woman?” she asked, so quiet she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.
Mikel’s expression turned angry as he leaned in and captured her hand in his. “You think I’d step out on you?”
The look in his eyes told her no, but her insecurities were eating her alive. Sometimes being around him was like walking on eggshells; she was afraid to say or do the wrong thing to set him off.
A server came over and collected their plates before asking, “Is there anything else I can get you? Perhaps a dessert menu—”
“No,” Mikel snapped, his eyes never leaving Remy. “Just the check.”
The stunned waitress nodded as she hurriedly left the table.
