Sweetest Risk by Megan Matthews

Author:Megan Matthews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megan Matthews

8

“Are you sure you want to meet my friends?” Graham runs his fingers through his dark hair smoothing it back.

I nod like a fool caught up in his spell. I’ve never met a man who can make such a simple action so overwhelmingly intimate.

“Yup.” As if I’d say anything else.

He gives me one last look, waiting for me to change my mind, and when I don’t, we walk through the big doors of the bed-and-breakfast out into the cold afternoon. Before we cross over the covered patio, he takes my hand into his. Our arms swing together back and forth as we walk.

Normally, I want to stay inside and avoid the cold as much as possible, even on a rare afternoon off, but the last few days I’ve ventured out to spend time with Graham. You would think your body would get used to the sudden drop in temperature, your skin hardened against the bite of the cold wind. But it doesn’t. The air is as frigid for me today as it was yesterday. Possibly even colder. My skin still hurts and with each breath it feels as if my lungs are freezing, the water molecules crystallizing.

It’s a macabre thought pattern and I don’t keep it for long before we turn into the warm, well-lit, happy sight of the bakery.

The lights in the building cast away the gray skies we walked through to get here. It’s warm even though the fireplace is a fake. As usual the bakery smells like cooking sugar and cinnamon, like all those childhood Christmas memories from growing up. It’s better than any candle.

The bell above the door dings and everyone in the place turns to look at us. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if they all took the quick glance you do when someone walks in. Instead they continue to stare. That is until Graham scans his head giving each of them a silent look as they bow their heads and go back to their business.

It’s unsettling as if there’s some kind of secret bakery cult I haven’t been initiated into yet. I’m on the outside looking in at everybody else. It’s the ongoing story of my life.

A brown-haired woman behind the counter wearing the typical bright pink apron smiles widely while staring at the two of us. I try and shake off Graham’s hand but he won’t let me.

“The guys are in the back,” she says using her thumb to point at two swinging metal doors.

“Thanks, Tabitha.” Graham releases my hand and places a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back. Take a seat and get comfortable.”

He slips behind the counter and pushes open one of the metal doors before I have a chance to move. “Whatever she wants, it’s on me,” he yells before the door swings shut behind him. My tummy twists with the thought he’s left me to the wolves. Bright pink feisty wolves.

A woman as tall as the first but strikingly different in features steps out from the back kitchen on the other side of the swinging doors.

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