Wrong Number by Laura Brown

Author:Laura Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781953647863
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2021-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jake

The bell chimed as I entered the bakery. I held a clear plastic container with two slices of Avery’s pie, careful not to let things slide and shift, as I knew how picky bakers got about presentation. On her request, I waited until she was gone for the day. She refused to show Mom and Hannah herself, claiming it was too much too soon, but didn’t stop me when I took the slices, knowing damn well why I wanted them.

Mom stood behind the counter, a pink tint to her cheeks I didn’t often see, and it took a moment to sink in what it meant. Blushing. Across the counter I caught the backside of a man in a black T-shirt with blue hair, the apparent culprit. My spine threated to snap straight, and I forced it to keep its relaxed state.

Mom laughed, resting her elbows on the display case, inching closer to Kirk. I hadn’t seen my client here since that first bakery visit, but the interaction before me said this had become a thing. “You’ve already tried everything here. Twice.”

Kirk copied her stance and my hands clenched. “What can I say? You have the best baked goods I’ve ever tasted.”

I glanced behind me. Hadn’t they heard the freaking door? I cleared my throat and they broke apart. Good. Otherwise, I would’ve doused them both in water, the goods be damned.

“Jake, you’re early,” Mom said.

I checked my wrist, even though I hadn’t worn a watch since I was twelve. “By five minutes.”

“Oh, time flies when one has fun. Isn’t that right, Kirk?”

I didn’t like this. Not the way Mom looked at him. Certainly not the way he looked at her.

“Sure is.” Kirk took a step back. If he had a hat on, I’d expect him to raise it in some sort of false gentlemanly gesture. He patted the bakery bag he held. “I’ll let you know what I think.”

“You better. I need my taste testers.”

He winked at her. Winked. And I had to fight the urge to slug the asshole. Or destroy his hair the next time he had an appointment.

The bell dinged as Kirk left and I placed my container on the ledge near Mom.

“What’s this?” She didn’t wait for an answer before lifting the lid.

“Chocolate truffle pie. Avery made it. I insisted she show it to you, but she’s shy.”

Mom studied my face. “Spending a lot of time with her, aren’t you?”

I shifted on my bad leg. Three nights in a row. Words not to be spoken out loud. Instead, I moved around Mom and grabbed a fork. “The other slice is for Hannah.”

Mom accepted the fork, an unsettling glint in her eye. “And you’ve already had your fill, haven’t you?”

I groaned at Mom’s unabashed prodding. She dug her fork into the pie and took a bite, her eyes closing. “That girl can bake, but that’s why we hired her.”

My chest warmed with pride. It should have been from finding a good potential addition to the menu. I knew better.

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