Yellow Sundress
YELLOW SUNDRESS
CAM
Of all the people I thought might be standing in line in my bakery, Rachel Kicklighter was not one of them. Once I saw her, it was like someone turned off the switch to my brain, and all I could do was stare. Cherry lips, yellow sundress, and ethereal hazel eyes pulling me into a trance.
Fuck .
I gulped, the instant flutter erupting in my chest overtaking me for another hot minute.
Damn. How does this woman look so good?
Whether she’s draped in an awful bridesmaid dress, in a yellow sundress, or wearing llama pajama shorts, she took my breath away.
This was trouble.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, immediately frustrated with the fact that those were the words that fell out of my mouth.
She turned her adorable nose up in the air. “Ordering a pastry, obviously. What are you doing here?”
Whelp, cat’s out of the bag now. “This is … part of my this and that.”
“Meaning?”
An impatient woman peeked around Rachel as two more people joined the line. “Hey, Shay, do you mind taking over for a minute?”
My business partner nodded. “You got it, boss.”
My lips pursed when Shay smirked. She knew I hated when she called me that. Shay stepped in to work on the line as I motioned for Rachel to move to the end of the counter.
Rachel tented her brows. “Boss? You run this bakery?”
“Just bought it and now I’m helping to run it.”
She tilted her head. “ Who … are you?”
I hadn’t smiled all day until now. “Seriously, what can I get you? I’m buying.”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
“It’s a beautiful day. We can sit on the patio and discuss why you stole Foster and Laura’s hand towel last night.”
“We? Are you asking me out officially?”
“No.”
Her smile dissolved. “Right. I’ll take that éclair … to go .”
Damnit. Why can’t I talk to her?
“I mean, we could chat for a minute, but we’re in the middle of the midmorning rush and I can’t step out for too long.”
“I understand.” She readjusted her tote on her shoulder after she glanced around the bakery. “That’s okay. Just the éclair.”
I paused, not wanting her to walk out the door, but the look on her face suggested she was already gone. I packed the éclair in a bag and handed it to her over the glass case.
She rifled through her tote. “How much?”
“On the house.”
Her eyes flared. “I really want to pay for it, please.”
“I insist. Take it.”
“I insist . How much?”
“A dollar.”
She released an exacerbated sigh and slammed a five on the counter before storming out.
My eyes devoured her as the sunlight hit her outside when she walked by the window. A sudden breeze caught her dark hair, blowing it back and making it look like she was walking in slow motion. Shay had to nudge me to snap me out of it. “Cam?”
I shook off my trance. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Shay chuckled. “Hand me a raspberry scone and grab more GF choc chips from the back, will ya?”
I rubbed the back of my heated neck. “Of course.”
Once we got through the lingering trickles of lunch visitors, I cleaned the last of the unoccupied tables. Shay eyed me when I hauled back a bus tub full of dirty dishes. She slung a towel over her shoulder and leaned up against a worktable in our kitchen as I started on the dishes.
“Who was that?” she asked.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Who was who?” I knew exactly who she was referring to and was doing my best to avoid the conversation.
“Yellow sundress.”
“Oh, uh, no one.”
“You don’t usually gawk with your mouth open at no one .”
“She’s, um …” What was I supposed to say? That Rachel Kicklighter was a one-hundred-mile-an-hour fastball that hits me in the face, rendering me almost unconscious every time I’m in her presence?
Shay gently touched my hand and took the dish sprayer out of it. “We’ll get these later. I’m going to make us some iced coffees. I think we should have a little chat on the patio. Jenn, will you help watch the front for a second?”
Our bakery assistant, Jenn, paused her prep on some croissants. “Sure thing.”
If I protested, Shay would only insist, and having worked with her for the last three years in various businesses, I knew there was no avoiding a discussion about Rachel. I released a sigh when I sat down at a table, but I quickly rose to take a coffee out of Shay’s hand when she approached.
Shay and her wife Charisse had opened a restaurant in Old Town that, while it started strong, got hit hard during COVID. I had some capital to invest from money my grandfather left me, and she had an in with several other struggling business owners. We banded together and helped bring some life back to Old Town. Shay was one of the best pastry chefs in town and Charisse was a butcher chef, so when they accepted a job offer to help me run my other concepts as executive chefs, I was grateful. Shay became my rock after Britt left. I trusted her with my life and could not exist without her friendship.
“All right, hero,” Shay said, leaning back in her chair. “Let’s hear it.”
I gulped my coffee. “There’s not much to tell.”
“I think there’s a lot to tell, bro. First, she’s a knockout, and second, the amount of electricity popping off between you two about singed my hair wrap. I’ve not seen you like that with anyone.”
I raked my hand through my hair. “Yeah. She’s dangerous.”
Shay arched a dark eyebrow. “That she is. Let’s get some backstory here. Where did you meet her?”
“Sarah and James’s wedding. I had to walk down the aisle with her after Zach Eichart got drunk at the rehearsal dinner and fell into a Cholla cactus the night before.”
“This is amazing. I love everything about this story.”
I had deliberately left out the part in the story where Rachel grabbed me with both hands, planted her lips on mine, and lightning shot out of my toes.
“There’s just one problem,” I said, leaning over the table and gripping my coffee with both hands.
“Let me guess.” Shay rested her chin on her palm. “You’re the problem.”
“Pretty much.” I swear I could still smell Rachel’s perfume on the breeze. “When I’m around her … my brain short-circuits.”
“That’s a good thing!” Shay slapped her hand on the table. “This is genuine progress from you feeling dead inside after Britt.”
“I hate it.”
Shay chuckled and stretched her hands over her head. “I can’t wait to be formally introduced to …?”
“Rachel. And I doubt you will. I keep screwing things up every time I’m around her.”
“You’ll figure it out. Try to relax, man. Be a little gentler the next time you see her.”
“I don’t want to figure this out,” I said, glancing away. “My life is finally calm, boring, and that’s the way I want it.”
Shay wagged a finger my way. “You let Britt continue to have power over you every time you push a new prospect away. Don’t overthink it. Go get ice cream, make her one of your famous tarts or something.”
“They’re not famous.”
“They should be,” Shay said, checking a ping on her smartwatch. “You’ve really come a long way with everything I’ve taught you. Impress her with your baking skills.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Shay rose and scooted her chair in. “And don’t worry about getting tongue-tied around her. She can handle you.” She wrapped me up in a warm hug and ordered me to text Rachel when I got home. Since Rachel never responded to my last text, I assured her that wouldn’t happen. On the drive home, I decided no communication with Rachel would be a good thing until I got my head straight.
Days passed and I finally felt like my heartbeat started to return to its normal state. Thoughts of Rachel in her yellow sundress and what glory awaited underneath still haunted me, though. I made the rounds checking on the businesses, and by Friday, I was beat. It was only 7 p.m. when I got home, and all I wanted to do was shut the shades and crawl into bed.
What was waiting for me on my doorstep would disrupt that plan. The Amazon box leaning against my door intrigued me since I had not ordered anything. I checked the label for the name of the sender.
Kicklighter Home Décor and Interiors.
I couldn’t claw my way through the box fast enough, and while I had no idea what Rachel would think to gift me, a calendar of Dick Pics in Nature was not even in the hemisphere of my thoughts. The note on the invoice said:
Dear Grumpy Groomsman,
I didn’t want your mother to be the only one to get a gift. This is a little something I saw and thought of you. Hope it cheers you up,
Rachel
I’m not sure what was more disturbing: that Rachel really thought I was a dick or that some fool was walking around photographing rock formations that looked like dicks and thought, “This is gold. Think I’ll make a calendar out of these images.”
Either way, Rachel had once again brought a smile to my face.
“Okay, Kicklighter. I see your move and raise you,” I said aloud, and I wasted no time in crafting my response.