Chapter 2
Summer
“Oh fuck.”
I should’ve listened to Carmen. Gossip about the Beaufort pack house my ass, more like gossip about the pack that had abruptly moved out of it eleven years earlier.
I would need to have a long conversation with her about how important it was to lead her stories with the most pertinent bit of information!
I couldn’t believe it. The Beaufort brothers were back. Jae and…the other two.
Shit, what were their names again? What the hell were they doing opening a patisserie?
And why the fuck was I still standing here where they could see me?
I fitted myself in the little crevice between our buildings and hoped I would evaporate. Not permanently. Just long enough so I could figure out what I was going to do.
I would have to meet them eventually. And I couldn’t cower and let them steamroll me. It didn’t matter that I was new to this business. I’d worked hard for this and I deserved to be here.
“They are normal people,” I said to myself in the start of what I hoped would be a successful pep talk. “Just regular…men. You do not have to be scared of men. I mean, you do—statistics are very clear about that. But hopefully not in this instance.”
“Summer? Is that you?”
Jesus Christ, his voice was like aural sex.
I was suddenly very aware of the sweaty flyaways escaping my ponytail and the dirt from the veggie patch on my knees.
Deep breath and—
“Hi, Jae.”
His relief was palpable. “You remember me.”
“Only just.” Now that he was closer it was easier to catalog all the changes. “You look a little different,” I teased.
Jae was not the boy in the library anymore.
That was abundantly clear. But the longer I looked, the more memories resurfaced, revealing traces of the Jae I once knew excavated from his new exterior.
The smile, of course. The way he pushed his hair off his forehead when it flopped back down exactly the same way it used to.
And the shyness. That was still there, in the hesitant angle of his brows and averted gaze.
Jae ran a hand over the back of his neck. “How have you been these last…eleven years?” he asked sheepishly.
His nerves actually helped ease some of mine. “Well, I haven’t hidden in a library in a while,” I said candidly.
“I never thought you were hiding,” he admitted. “Teenage me was convinced I’d activated some sort of life cheat code that gave me free baked goods. Like a cake angel.”
This was fascinating and adorable insight. “A cake angel?” I repeated, stifling a laugh.
“I wasn’t big on critical thinking back then.”
“Well…I have a bakery now,” I said shyly after a beat.
His eyes lit up, two happy little half-moons. “That’s the best news ever. Can I see?”
“Sure.”
“Is it far?”
“Mm, just a short walk.”
Jae stepped closer and I got my first proper sense of his scent.
Alpha. It was written all over him, but breathing him in confirmed it.
Saltwater-tinged air warmed in the summer sun.
It hit like a surprised intake of breath before being lifted by strong arms and raced, giggling, toward the ocean.
Freeing and affectionate. The receptors in my hindbrain flooded with dopamine.
I caught the slight pulse of his pupils expanding.
At least I wasn’t the only one affected. What did he think of my scent? What did I want him to think of my scent? That was an entirely different question altogether.
Luckily, we reached Suns Out before I could overthink things.
“Here it is.”
“Okay, so when you said a short walk, you really meant a short walk.”
I threw him an impertinent smile over my shoulder. The bell above the door tinkled twice.
I wondered what he thought as he took it all in.
I’d commissioned a local mural artist to splash one wall in a vivid riot of colors.
There was a framed photo from Lucy of Felix and her bunny, Blossom, wearing cake hats at my grand opening.
My parents had helped me set up a small shrine to Th?n Tài in the corner with an incense burner and a vase of flowers to bring good fortune.
I didn’t consider myself Buddhist, but it still felt right to observe the customs I had been brought up in.
There were a few baguettes left in the baskets on the shelves, but we had nearly sold out of cookies and cake slices behind the glass display.
I was actually quite proud of how many flavor combos I could create with only two sponge bases and a variety of different toppings.
I wanted to give people options while making sure the workload was sustainable so I wouldn’t drop dead within my first year of business.
Jae pointed at the menu board. “Can I order something?”
“Let me surprise you,” I offered. Once I’d washed my hands and slid behind the counter, the rattle beneath my rib cage settled as I fell into my familiar routine. Roast pork was our most popular so that seemed like a safe bet.
Plus it was my favorite.
“What have you been up to?” I asked as I began to spread mayo butter and paté on a baguette.
I hoped life had been good to him after the devastating flashpoint that led to him leaving.
I was too young at the time to understand the gravity of what happened so the details were fuzzy.
Despite our town’s fondness for gossip, this was one event that lay dormant.
It was fun to joke about the curse on the pack house.
Not fun at all to dwell on the heartbreak of the family who used to live there.
Jae leaned his hip familiarly against the counter and crossed his arms. I tried to focus on the pickled vegetables instead of his tattooed biceps being so prominently on display.
“I lived in Boston for a couple years before deciding to travel solo. I eventually found myself in the music scene in London and got really lucky writing with a musician before he blew up. It opened a lot of doors for me in the industry.”
Gosh, he actually did it. He found a career in music the way I always hoped he would.
“Anyone I know?”
“Maybe. Rowan Finch.”
My knife clattered. “Shut up.” Jae had worked with stadium-touring, chart-topping Rowan Finch before he was Rowan Finch? He was on my freaking Spotify Wrapped last year. “Don’t tell me you wrote on Altercations.”
His self-conscious smile confirmed that he did, in fact, write on the breakout Grammy-winning album. I was extremely aware of how different our worlds were and how much our lives had diverged since we last saw each other. I’d stayed in Starlight Grove, and he’d gone on to do such big things.
“Are you just visiting?” I asked. My mouth was dry, why was my mouth dry?
Jae took a beat to answer. “Yeah. Just for the summer. Lucien and I, at least. It’s taken a long time to get the pack house ownership transferred to just our dads.
” Seeing him try to mask the frustrated clench of his jaw was hard.
“They asked for our help getting it ready for sale, and I don’t blame them for not wanting to deal with it after everything.
They’ve been having trouble with tenants this entire time, so they’re more than ready to part with it. ”
This was probably not the right time to tell him that his family home was likely possessed by a malevolent spirit.
“Lucien had the bright idea for us to move in and spruce it up on our own. The timing also worked with Mercer opening a new branch of his patisserie.” The warmth returned to his features like a sunrise. “So now the three of us are back together again.”
Lucien. Mercer. Their names clicked satisfyingly in my brain like puzzle pieces.
“Does your brother do any research before opening bakeries?” I said archly.
The color drained from his face. “Oh god. I didn’t…you’re right next door.”
“Yep. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Jae breathed a sigh of relief and immediately threw Mercer under the bus. “Yes, great. Blame him entirely.”
I had one slice of my mango-topped pandan sponge left. I boxed it up and slid it across the counter toward him along with the bánh mì.
“On me.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Take it.”
Jae took both with a resigned sigh. “You’re only reinforcing my cake angel theory, you know.”
“You’re paying next time. Does that help?” I offered.
“Yes it does.” He slowly and reluctantly retreated toward the door. “I will be back. A lot,” he promised.
Jae did three double takes before he finally disappeared from view. My legs were completely jelly. That was new. I didn’t get goopy around men, any men. Jae’s combination of sweet, awkward, and inked gorgeousness was apparently my kryptonite.
He was a distraction. A cute, charming one. But a distraction all the same.
This was a critical time for me to make sure Suns Out would be a success.
The town was so excited to support me. But I was shiny new right now.
Having customers didn’t mean I would keep them.
I didn’t want to be a fad. I wanted my bánh mì to be just as much a part of Starlight Grove as the burger from Rosie’s Diner.
Imagining Jae’s hard body pressed to mine would contribute nothing to that goal.
At least he was only here for the summer. I could get through that, right?