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Beads of sweat appear on my forehead as I get out in the hot afternoon. I quickly check the street before crossing to the other side and power-walking all the way to the shop a few streets down.
The bell chimes as I push the door open and enter the shop.The cool blast of AC hits me and makes goosebumps appear on my skin. Small Treats is the only bakery in town that specializes in cakes, and Kate, being the person that she is, insisted on getting as much of the wedding stuff done locally as possible. The place has been run by the Wilson family since it opened in the early 80s.
“Hey, Becky! How are you doing?” Lisa, one of the Wilson children, asks.
Although a few years younger than me, I’ve seen her around town. Her older sister, who was my age, left town to go off to college, where she met her husband and moved away.
“Hey, Lisa. I’m doing good. You? Done with school?”
“Yup, I was so ready for it to be over.”
I let out a small chuckle. “I can imagine.”
Once upon a time, I felt like her. Ready to be done with school and start my life until I realized that with age came responsibilities you never thought you’d need to face. Not at such a young age, and the future I thought I’d have could never exist.
“I’m so ready for my culinary school to start, though. What can I do for you?”
“That’s amazing. Congrats! I actually need to talk to your mom. Kate was supposed to come to sample the cakes for her wedding, but she’s not feeling well, so she sent me to do it for her.”
“Oh, that sucks. At least it’s not too close to her wedding day.”
“True that.” It would have sucked if she was sick on her wedding day after all the preparations and everything. “Hopefully, it’s just a bug, and she’ll be back to her old self soon.”
“Fingers crossed! Mom’s in the back. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“Thanks.”
Lisa slips through the door into the back room, and I move closer to the counter, checking out the different options they have in the shop. My mouth waters at the sight of the strawberry cake in the display, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.
The doorbell chimes once again, and I instinctively turn around, but the smile on my face drops when I see the person standing in the doorway.
“Miguel.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MIGUEL
“Miguel.”
My steps falter, a shiver going down my spine at the sound of my name in that low, husky voice that some nights I could still hear in my dreams.
What the hell is she doing here?
At least, I’m not the only one surprised by our encounter. Becky’s mouth falls open for a second before she can school her features. That mask of indifference slipping into place as her eyes narrowed at me.
“Rebecca.” I nod in greeting.
Her eyes twitch at the use of her full name, and I have to force myself to keep my face straight.
God, I missed messing with her.
It was so easy to rile her up; it always has been. I loved watching that fire blaze in her hazel eyes, loved seeing her fierce temper come to life. Fighting with her was always the best because I knew once we made up, it would be just as good as the fight was, better even.
My stomach clenches at the anticipation, and I must remind myself that this wasn’t why I was here.
She grits her teeth, her fingers curling into fists by her sides. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to taste some cake.”
