Chapter 19
Memories are not a girl’s best friend.
Sophia
I wake surrounded by the scent of wood chips and teak oil. Flynn. Flynn is in this bed with me. His arm is wrapped around my waist. His warmth surrounds me.
My smile probably stretches from ear to ear. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. My dream come true. Flynn Ryland is in my bed after spending the night proving a woman can never have too many orgasms.
I start to roll over to him but then I remember.
“Last night was a mistake.”
“I should have kept my hands to myself.”
“I’m sorry I kissed you. It was a mistake.”
“I’m not attracted to her.”
“She’s a little sister to me.”
I freeze. What if he wakes and decides last night was a mistake? I don’t know if I can handle being referred to as a mistake again.
Or what if he makes it clear I’m just another conquest to him? That I’m not special? That I’m just another warm body for the night?
My heart hammers in my chest as I imagine hearing him say those words. Nope. I can’t handle it. Crown me the queen of all the chickens if you will but I am not hearing those words coming out of his mouth.
I grasp his wrist and lift his arm. I pause when he mumbles in his sleep. I wait until he’s quiet again before scooching out from underneath him. He clutches a pillow and cuddles it in my place.
I tiptoe to my bathroom. I expect Flynn to be gone when I return to the bedroom, but he’s still sprawled out on my bed.
I should probably wake him up and let him know I’m leaving. But I can’t. I can’t listen to him say I’m a mistake again. I want a man to fight for me. Not take two steps backwards every time I think we’re finally moving forward.
I arrive at Pirates Pastries fifteen minutes later. I enter and the smell of chocolate, sugar, and coffee hits me. I missed this place.
“Sophia!” Parker waves at me.
I went to high school with Parker. What am I saying? I went to high school with everyone on the island. There’s only one school here after all.
“Please tell me you baked peaches and cream whiskey muffins this morning.”
She beams at me. “With Buccaneer’s Whiskey no less.”
“I’ll have a muffin and a coffee, please.”
“I heard there were some problems with your new apartment,” she says as she prepares my order.
I snort. “You know darn well there were problems with my apartment.”
She giggles as she hands me my muffin and coffee. I sip the coffee and moan. “How is your coffee this delicious? Do you put crushed mermaid fins in it?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I use scales from a Hippocampus’ tail.”
“You and your love of sea lore. I’ll never forget you dressing up as the wife of Poseidon for Halloween.”
“I was six. And Poseidon is hot.” She pauses to study me. “Not as hot as Flynn Ryland, but still hot.”
I wag my finger at her. “You’re not getting any gossip out of me this morning.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Rumor has it you’re living with Flynn. Is it a lie?”
“I’d clap at your ability to bring the conversation around to where you want it, but I’m not releasing my muffin for anything.”
To prove my point, I chump down on the muffin. The taste of peaches and the tang of whiskey hits me and I groan.
“Excuse me while I make sweet love to this muffin.”
Her eyes narrow. “Have you not been making sweet love to Flynn? If I were living with Flynn…” She sighs.
I force my thoughts away from what happened last night. I don’t want the whole island to know I had sex with Flynn. My brother would lose his mind. And Flynn would probably claim I threw myself at him again. It’s not my fault I was naked in the bathtub when he barged into my room.
I scowl. “I’m not ‘living with Flynn’, I’m staying in his house temporarily. If I had anywhere else to stay, I would.”
She cants her head and studies me. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as another cup of coffee.” I hand her my empty mug.
“Let me go crush some more fish tails from my pet Hippocampus,” she says as she prepares me another cup.
“You have a horse monster hiding in your back room?”
“Don’t be silly. My back room is too small. He’s in the pond out back.”
I finish my muffin and hand her my plate. I scan the bakery. “It’s not very busy this morning.”
“Saturday morning. Most locals are sleeping off their hangovers. And the tourists have already come and gone. They’re already at the beach,” she says but she won’t meet my gaze.
Is Pirates Pastries suffering? I hope not. The bakery has been an institution in Smuggler’s Rest ever since I can remember. It would devastate Parker who bought the place a few years ago when she returned to the island after graduating from culinary school.
“Are you off to the beach?”
“Nah. I need to search for a new place to live.”
“You’re finally living in the house with the man you’ve wanted since sixth grade and you’re not staying?”
I groan. “You remember?”
She giggles. “It’s kind of hard to forget you pushing down Eli on the playground and declaring you weren’t available because you were going to marry Flynn someday.”
“I was eleven. It didn’t mean anything.”
“What about high school graduation?”
My face heats with the memory of Flynn humiliating me at graduation. This is why I didn’t want to move back to Smuggler’s Hideaway. Memories are not a girl’s best friend.
“I’ve grown up since then.”
“And you’re looking for some place to live?”
“Which is apparently impossible since it’s tourist season.”
“I may have something for you.”
I perk up. “You do?”
She holds up a hand. “I said maybe.”
“What’s the catch?”
“The place isn’t in the best of shape.”
“Does it have running water?” She nods. “Does the water get hot?” She nods. “I’m in.”
“Maybe I should show it to you first.”
“When do you close? I can come back later.”
“We can go now. I’ll have Holly watch the front of the store. Give me a sec.” She disappears through the door to the kitchen and returns less than a minute later with a girl. “Holly will watch the store.”
She grabs a bunch of keys from a drawer underneath the counter and motions me toward the rear of the building.
“My car’s out front.”
“You don’t need your car.”
I follow her out of the rear exit. “This is it.” She points to the door next to the exit.
“You have an apartment above your store?”
She unlocks the door and leads me up the stairs. “It used to be storage but we don’t need an entire floor of storage.”
She stops at another door. “Ready?”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“I did warn you,” she says as she opens the door and motions me forward.
I enter and gasp. The entire front wall is windows looking out over Main Street. The other walls are exposed brick and the floor is scuffed up wood.
“It’s a loft.”
“It’s a studio.” She nods to the bed in the corner. It’s hidden behind a sheer, white curtain.
“This place is beautiful.”
“You haven’t noticed the kitchen or bathroom yet.”
I spin toward the kitchen and wince. It’s lime green. As in everything is lime green. The countertop, the cabinets, and even the stove and refrigerator are green.
“Does everything work?” I ask as I open the refrigerator.
“The oven can be a bit iffy but you can use one of the bakery ovens if you need to.”
I won’t need to. No one would make the mistake of thinking I’m gifted in the kitchen.
“What about the bathroom?”
“Here.” Parker opens a door next to the entrance.
“Whoa. There’s a lot of pink in here.” The tiles are pink, the tub is pink, and even the toilet is pink.
“I need to update the place, but it hasn’t been a priority.”
“I’m surprised you’re not living here.”
She flinches. “I was until a few weeks ago when I moved in with my parents. My idea was to rent this place out for a bit of extra income.”
Darn. This confirms my fear Pirates Pastries is not doing well. Judging by the stubborn look on Parker’s face, the topic is not open to discussion. Fair enough. I have no desire to discuss my failures either.
But there is one thing I can do. “I’ll take it! When can I move in?”
She hands me the keys. “Today.”
“Don’t you have a rental agreement I need to sign?”
She shrugs. “I trust you.”
“And the entire town will crucify me if I screw up.”
“You said it.”
The door to the loft flies open and Flynn stomps inside. “What the hell are you doing here?”