AllFreeNovel
Share Us
More everything, because people want what we’re cooking.
“We also have your birthday coming up, and though you want to ignore it—” I raise my palm and charge on when she opens her mouth to argue, “youare not our client. Preston is. He’s the one hosting this party, and it’s your responsibility to turn up.”
“Is it my job to bake my own cake, too?”
“Oh please.” I drop my hand and turn toward the back door when the bell rings for attention. “Like you want someone else baking it.” I remove my thinning mitts and set them on the long counter as I pass, fully aware I’ll likely come looking later and get pissy when I can’t find them. “Face it, Feeney. You want the party, and you want to bake the cake. Preston is hosting, and I’m taking care of the rest of the food. So stop being a brat and simply enjoy.”
“Stop calling me Feeney,” she grumbles, since she has no other defense. “My name is Nicole Sc—”
“Yep. I’ve heard the spiel before.”
I unlatch the lock at the back door and tug the heavy steel wide open to reveal Raul and Jenson on the other side. “Come on in.”
Instead of stepping back, I move forward when Raul opens his arms for a hug. A gentle kiss on my cheek. Because we’re friends now.
When he-who-shall-not-be-named called me a two-bit, piece of shit whore—or something like that—and told me to get a clue, I walked away, and found my clue. I found a friend in Raul Montenegro. A buddy to have coffee with. A pal to read the Sunday paper with.
He’s my safe space, where I’m neither expected to put makeup on, nor dress up and act a certain way. He’s my ‘yoga on the weekend’ friend. My sweatpants and messy bun friend.
He picked up the pieces that he-who-shall-not-be-named shattered, and helped put me back together again.
Gently.
For that alone, I owe him the world.
“Busy day today.” He wraps his arm over my shoulder and turns us to walk toward the massive stack of pastry boxes Nicole and I started filling before the sun rose this morning. “I swear, I don’t know the last time Jenson and I stopped.”
“I would say sorry, but,” I step out from beneath his arm and pick up a stack of boxes instead, “being busy means we all have a job. And having a job is how I…”stay mildly sane. “Pay the rent.” I plop the stack in his waiting arms, and grin when he grunts under the weight. “What time do you expect to be done this afternoon?”
“About six.” He turns on his heels just a step behind his partner, so I grab another stack and follow to load the van. “Why?”
“I have a date at seven.”
I swear, I should be excited. I should be giddy. But dating over the last few months has been nothing short of disastrous. Douchebags, deadbeats, dudes who’d rather carry a comb in their back pocket and stare at their reflection in the silver of the napkin holder. Worse are the sexy, funny guys who, in any other world, would be exactly the type I’d throw myself at.
But not this world. Not anymore. Because the one sexy, funny guy I gave everything to… threw it in my face and stole a chunk of my heart for fun.
So I’m officially allergic to the funny guys. The easygoing, silly, chattering,never take themselves too seriouslyguys. And if they happen to be a firefighter too, or hell, any type of first responder, then I get my ass outta there before I break out in hives.
Axel Feeney ruined me for funny firefighters. Which is a shame, really, considering they were my favorite of all.
“His name is Alan, and he’s twenty-five years old. He sells kayaks for a living, and had a double major in an Ivy League school, for math and…” I stop and wait for the guys ahead of me to load the van. “I dunno. Kayak sales, I suppose.”
“Expensive education.” Raul sets his boxes in the back, then turns and takes mine to stack on top. “He doesn’t aspire to do more with it?”
My brows pull tight in frustration. “I don’t judge people because of their career choices, ya know? He could have a degree that qualifies him to work at NASA, and if he still sold kayaks, or books, orcakes,” I add on a sneer, “it wouldn’t bother me.”
“It’s not bothering me either.” Twisting back empty-handed, he flashes a charming smile and heads inside for the next load. “It’s just curious that he was so driven in college, and now he’s not using what he worked so hard for.”
“Could be burnout.” I follow Raul across the threshold and into the warmth. Not that it’s cold outside yet, but summer’s coming to an end, and the ovens inside the bakery create a heat that contrasts. “Maybe he got those degrees because his parents made him. Or maybe he thought he wanted to work with math, like be an engineer or something, but he tried it, and it pissed him off.” I bend at our pile of boxes and grab my next stack. “Whatever the reason, that’s for him to decide. Because I pride myself onnotbeing a judgmental jerkoff who thinks a person’s value lies in their salary and job title.”
“Mmhm.” He grabs the last of the pastries and straightens his back, and though his lips curl into a smirk, he chooses the safe option anddoesn’tshow it to me so blatantly. “You sound healed and happy, Han.” He clicks his tongue so I hear the pop echo between the concrete floor and brick walls. “Bitter still?”
“I’m not bitter!” I follow him outside while Jenson moves to Nicole with a clipboard for her signature. “I’m dating, aren’t I? I’m getting out there.”
“Three dozen dates in three months is not trying, Hannah. It’s—”
“What?” I set my things in the back of the van, though my temper tempts me to toss them. “That’s the very definition of trying! What more could you possibly ask of me?”
