Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Teller
Birdsong registered a moment before a shot of adrenaline charged through my vessels. I was late for work. Then a soft, warm body rolled over me. The events of the night flooded back and I didn’t bother opening my eyes. No wonder I was so damn tired.
“You sleep like the dead, Bailey,” Maddy murmured. “And your alarm is going off.” The bed shifted as she smacked something on the nightstand. The birdsong stopped.
Her weight was gone and I missed it. Rolling to my side, I buried my face in her hair. I hadn’t had a tender moment like this in a long time. Perhaps ever. There was no undercurrent of stress waking up next to Madison. No What the hell is she going to be mad about now? or I’ve gotta get to work and she’s going to be upset about it . Or worse... How can I get her to leave without being a dick?
I didn’t want Madison to leave.
“You gotta be up?” I said, my voice sandpaper rough.
Her hair moved, tickling my nose as she shook her head. “Only for the hour it’s going to take to brush out the rat’s nest of my hair. Otherwise, I’ll go to Flatlanders and install some partitions in the bathroom.”
“Before Flatlanders is done, I’m gonna see you in nothing but a tool belt.”
The bed shook with her laugh. “Baking while naked. Constructing while naked. What next?”
“Technically, you weren’t baking naked.”
“No one wants cookies made by someone without any clothes on.”
“Wrong again, Mads. I’ll take five batches.” I let out a long groan. “I’ve gotta get to work.” I pressed my lips to her shoulder and left them there. “Let’s go out tonight,” I said against her skin.
“You mean like meet Tenor and Ruby again? Or another one of your siblings?”
“No. Just us.” I tried to swallow past the tightness in my throat. We could work all day and night on Flatlanders, but people would shrug it off as a business arrangement. She and I could double with another couple and it was still a group. Eat at Mama’s? No one else saw.
Then there was my home. My oasis away from everything that was now my special place with her.
“A date?” she asked.
“A real one,” I confirmed.
“Curly’s?”
“Anywhere. We can stay in town or go to Bozeman.”
“Hmm... There are some nice distilleries in Bozeman. I wonder if they serve a better hard lemonade.”
I nipped her shoulder and she giggled and playfully slapped me.
“I like Curly’s and all, but I wouldn’t mind anonymity,” she said.
“Bozeman, then. I’ll surprise you.” Options ran through my head. There were steak houses, bistros, even bakeries, but those were likely closed in the evening.
“It’s a date.”
“An official one.” I rolled to my side of the bed. “Let me make you breakfast.”
“Cookies aren’t an option?”
“Not unless you want me to explain why I have frosting all over to everyone at the distillery.”
She giggled again, but it cut off when I rose and the sheets slipped away. My bare ass faced her, and when I walked to the bathroom, she saw my morning wood. I made sure of it.
When I was done cleaning up, I came out to an empty bedroom. The toilet flushed in the guest bath, so I dressed quickly and went downstairs. I wasn’t a baker, but I could make mean scrambled eggs and sausage.
By the time Madison entered the kitchen, the coffeepot was almost full, the sausage was almost done, and I had the eggs beaten and ready to scramble.
“Have a seat. Food’s not quite done.”
She peered at the time. “Don’t you have to get to work?”
I gave her a wink. “I’m the boss, baby.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was indulgent. She tidied the cookies and frosting from the night before. “I’ll pipe these later tonight. Or tomorrow since we’re going on a date .”
Her voice rang with disbelief. I’d show her. “Honestly, there might not be many cookies left by then.” I’d eaten at least three since I’d started making breakfast.
“I can make more. Another night.”
“I’ll let these count as your cookies for the week.” I’d keep her too busy to bake tonight anyway. I poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the island with the sugar. Then I got her cream from the fridge and took out the three different creamers I had.
“We both seem to have a sweet tooth,” she said, pouring more than a dollop of cream into her cup, followed by the caramel-flavored creamer.
“Tate always asks if I want some coffee with my cream and sugar.”
“I almost quit drinking it. Damien— Sorry.”
“You can talk about him. I’m not intimidated by Cocksucker.”
A small smile graced her face. “The partners at his firm also owned a coffeehouse, and they’d talk roasted beans during their social time. Damien wanted to impress them. We had so much gourmet coffee at home, I had to buy storage carts for them.”
“Sounds like a waste.”
“So much waste. I started making homemade marshmallows just to have something sweet to put into my cup. His partners loved those, so I made a double batch, and I could keep some for home. Sometimes, I think they liked me more than him.”
“I bet they did.”
Her expression turned shy. “I never knew it could be like this. Fun, yet relaxing. I’m not on edge.”
That was a punch right to the solar plexus. I took the pan off the stove and went to her. Kneeling in front of her, I put my hands on her thighs. “I want you to have everything, Madison. I promise you, I’ll never be the one holding you back or standing in your way.”
Her eyes shimmered. “Oh my god.” She swiped at a tear that broke free. “I don’t usually go for the gushy stuff.”
“Have you ever had the gushy stuff?”
Another tear slipped free and she sniffled.
Jesus, this woman. I captured the next drop rolling down her face with my thumb. “You deserve to have everything you ever wanted. If I could control the universe, I’d make sure you never heard another negative word.”
Her shoulders shook. “You’re unreal, you know that?” She sucked in a breath. “I think that’s why I always resented you a little. You were too good to be true.”
“I’m just a man. I’m going to fuck up, but I need you to trust that I’ll have your best interests at heart. I’ll always want what you want.”
She blinked back another flood of tears and failed. “You want to go to pastry school?”
I took her hands. Emotion flooded the air around us, but I couldn’t have her hiding from them. She’d probably been berated about them in the past. “You promise that if you ever get the chance, you’ll go?”
“I can’t?—”
“Madison.”
“I’m not leaving my family. Okay?” She brushed at her eyes. “Scott left me everything to take care of them. They’re all I have.”
“You have me now too.”
“This is so new, Teller.” A fear I’d never seen filled her eyes.
“One day at a time, all right? You’ll get your parents’ place sold, and you’ll secure long-term care for your mom. You’ll have enough left over to buy your own house, with a kitchen you can bake in.” Or she’d move in with me permanently. But she might need her own space after the dust of the renovations settled. I’d give her that. I’d give her anything. “Then you’ll go do fun things with your nephew.”
Her eyes welled up again. “If I ever get to see him.”
“Trust me,” I said dryly, “once Wendi hears how much the property goes for, she’ll be around. She’ll use her son to siphon it off you.”
Madison released a watery laugh. “I hate that you’re right.”
“Then we’ll get the bar going, and you’ll have regulars and new customers who’ll keep you afloat so you can keep baking and having sex with me.”
“Sounds pretty long term, Bailey.”
“I thought you were going to think of an annoying nickname.”
“Turns out I’m not so irritated by you.”
I grinned. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been called Bailey before, but I had two brothers and there’d been my dad. People had to use our first names to differentiate us. Yet every time she said it, it went straight to my dick. She never called anyone else Bailey . “I like the sound of long term, Mad Maddy.”
“I’m not feeling so mad these days.”
Madison
Teller pulled up in front of a bakery. Stella’s Sweets. The large sign above the door featured a lineup of pastries. I checked the time. It was six. We’d left as soon as he’d gotten off work, but bakeries closed early.
“Is this place open?” But lights were on inside and people were sitting at tables.
“Sure is. They even have a café menu.” He got out and jogged around the front of the pickup.
I put my hand on the handle, but I was still staring at the place. It wasn’t like seeing my dream. I’d meant it when I’d told Teller that I couldn’t open a bakery in Bourbon Canyon. There was too much animosity between me and too many others in that town, and even if there hadn’t been, would I even get enough business to stay open? Bakeries didn’t serve alcohol, and that was Flatlanders’ saving grace.
The town could use more quick lunch places that weren’t Curly’s and the coffee shop. If someone was so inclined. Not me though.
Teller opened my door and my gaze jumped to him, taking in the man before me. My date . He wore a dark blue polo with no logo and a dark pair of jeans with his boots, but he still gave off boardroom CEO energy. Apparently, cowboy boss was my thing.
He waited expectantly.
“I haven’t been to a bakery since I was visiting Aunt Tilly in high school,” I said to cover how I’d been ogling him.
“Aren’t there any in Missoula?”
“Yes, but as a broke college student, I wasn’t going there. Then I was a broke newlywed. And then...” I chewed the inside of my cheek as I clocked the pink-striped wallpaper inside and the donut shapes hanging off the ceiling. A screen over the counter flashed from donuts to fritters to bagels to fluffy loaves of bread. Gah. It was so cute. “By then I was making everything myself, and it was treated like a waste of money. As if I’d ever been anything less than frugal.”
“As if all sorts of coffee he doesn’t drink wasn’t a waste.”
“Exactly.” I slipped out and Teller slid his arm around me. So natural, like we’d done this forever.
I wore my jean shorts, but I’d paired them with another shirt I’d never worn before. A lavender blouse that was summery and frilly. My sandals weren’t new, but my feet said they were. Hopefully tonight wouldn’t include a lot of walking. I’d repainted my toenails to match my top and kept my hair down.
I felt like a new girl. “So I’m going to walk into a bakery with the bachelor I paid fifty grand for.”
His grin flushed heat right down to my toes. “I’m considered a good business decision in bachelor auction circles.”
He led me in. The sweet, doughy smell wrapped around me like sunshine on a picnic.
A young girl waved us to a table. “Have a seat anywhere. I’ll be right with you.”
Teller picked a spot by the window. We had a lovely view of downtown. I was almost as distracted by that as I was by the menu.
Teller leaned over the table. “We can also go get a steak after this if you want.”
The menu was mostly finger food and various platters of bread and dip. Teller wouldn’t fill up on bread and charcuterie meats.
“There’s not a lot of protein in bakeries,” I said.
He leaned his elbows on the table and pressed his fingertips together. “How about we consider this an appetizer?” He thought for a moment. “And dessert. We’ll eat out of order tonight.”
The jokes. My excitement over something so simple. How easily was this turning into the best date I’ve had? “Deal.”
We settled on our order, and after the server came by, he pointed to one of the many brick buildings.
“There used to be a boot shop here Dad would take us to all the time. We chewed through boots when we were younger.”
So had I, but they hadn’t gotten repaired or replaced that often. “Were you a Lucchese family?” I teased.
He laughed. “Dad loved a good quality boot, but it’d kill him to put a pair of Luccheses on teen boys and send them to work with cow shit.” He pushed a smaller menu in front of me. “What are we getting to bring with us after we eat?”
Every time he said we, a zing raced down my spine. It was early yet. This was our first real date. I wasn’t as experienced as him in the mechanics of dating, and I wanted to enjoy this. I didn’t have to question it, and if I started thinking about the future, I would.
I studied the menu to hide my chaotic thoughts. I liked Teller. A lot. What I felt for him was starting to make my feelings for Damien look like a little girl’s crush. That could be because Damien had been a crap husband, but that was the thing. I didn’t have enough experience to know. I wasn’t worldly.
Teller had done stuff that wasn’t just about survival. He’d never lived paycheck to paycheck, and that had given him a lot of freedom to just be. I wasn’t there yet, and I was afraid to dive in. However, I could savor the slow consumption of all things Teller. He cared for me, and I believed him. I believed him when he said he wanted what was best for me.
“What are you picking?” he asked.
“I’m a sucker for an almond croissant.”
“What else?”
I floundered. How much did he think I could eat? We were having an appetizer, baked goods, and then he seemed serious about getting a full dinner.
He took the little menu from me. “We need to get a couple of donuts, obviously.” There were several varieties of old-fashioned donuts still in the case. “You like bagels?”
“Is there someone who doesn’t?”
He flashed a grin. “I haven’t had many. Once in a while, I’ll get the breakfast bagel at Mountain Perks.”
“I’ve made them before.”
“Yeah? Are they hard?”
I shook my head. “They can be a little tedious since you have to boil them first.” I traced over the grains on the table. “One of Damien’s partners, Lyle, approached me after I sent some bagels to work. Offered to contract with me to provide bagels a couple days a week at one of their coffee shops.”
A hard glint entered Teller’s eyes. “I want to drive straight to Missoula and kick your ex’s ass. Damien didn’t want you to?”
“Correct, but it also would’ve been a lot to add to my already full plate. The offer was validating though. Someone thought I did well. That partner was older and he reminded me of Aunt Tilly.” I abandoned the wood grain and took up the paper clasp from around my napkin and silverware, folding and unfolding it. I’ve never discussed Lyle or my past with anyone, and somehow it all slipped out with Teller. “Lyle always complimented me, but instead of just telling me how talented I was, he would allude to the training. He’d ask where I learned to make the bagels or marshmallows, and at first I was embarrassed to tell him YouTube or some social media video, but he’d only nod and quiz me on how many attempts it took to nail a technique.”
“Would you have taken that contract if you’d had encouragement for your ex?” he asked.
“Maybe.” I had researched commercial kitchens I could rent and any certifications and licenses I might need to bake in my home. I’d more than speculated on how I would do it. “Yes. I would’ve. One of my jobs would’ve had to go. Then I could’ve started a cupcake or cookie side hustle.”
“It wouldn’t have been a side hustle.”
What would it have been like? To have the unyielding support from my partner that Teller had been giving me? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, yet at the same time I could. Because of him. He’d seen me at my lowest and it didn’t matter.
He made me think—he made me believe—there could be more for me. Even more, he wanted it for me. A girl could get used to that.
Our food arrived, and I grinned as Teller’s gaze darted all over the charcuterie board like he was looking for the rest of the meal. Once the server left after topping off our water, I leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ll get steak after this.”
Madison
“Be honest,” Teller said, pushing his plate away. “How is it?”
I finished chewing my last bite of steak. I wasn’t sure if I had room in my stomach for the last swallow, but I’d rally. “It’s good.”
The restaurant only had a few couples remaining in the dining areas. We’d eaten at Stella’s Sweets, then bought a dozen different baked goods to bring back with us before going to a steak house Teller had picked out.
It was the fanciest place I’d ever been in. I might’ve started the night feeling like I was dressed nicely, but it turned out my style was everyone else’s standard. The women in the restaurant had worn anything from leggings to power suits to slacks, paired with sheer silk shirts or some other blouse that was nicer than any I owned. The dresses had left me slack-jawed. The summer dresses had been just as pretty as the wrap and cocktail dresses.
Teller strode in with his jeans and cowboy boots like he was wearing a tux. He might literally be the richest guy in the place and no one would know. So, if he didn’t care, I tried not to. When he looked at me, I glowed like a fairytale princess I’d read about as a kid.
“Just good?” he asked. “Or are you placating me?”
I stacked my plate on his and set our silverware on top. I’d adopted the habit after waiting tables in college. “Did I miss something? Are they serving Bailey beef, or did you sneak back there and grill the steaks yourself?” He’d never left the table.
“No to both, but I don’t want to impress you with a night out only to take you somewhere with mediocre food.”
“Didn’t you like yours?”
“I did. Did you?”
His concern was etched around his eyes, and dammit, it was endearing. My pleasure was his pleasure. “Yes. It was excellent, but I hate to admit...” The creases at the corners of his eyes deepened. “I’ll take your mom’s beef any day.”
He grinned as relief passed through his eyes. “That’s a given, Mads.”
I chuckled and took a drink of my ice water.
A couple turned the corner from the other seating area at the back of the place and the lemon in my water turned extra sour. I didn’t recognize the guy dressed in a charcoal suit with a little gray at his temples. Hanging on his arm was a redhead in a low-cut dress that would have made Beth Dutton on Yellowstone blush. Riley Graves.
My expression must’ve changed. Teller’s gaze shot in the same direction. He sat back, clearing his throat.
Riley spotted me. The smile fell off her red, expertly painted lips. The corner of her mouth curled into a sneer until her gaze slid toward Teller. Then her jaw fell open and a small gasp escaped.
“Teller.” She stopped, and the older man with her frowned, glancing back and forth between us. “Do you feel obligated because she paid fifty-five thousand for you?”
A jolt rammed through me. I’d forgotten that we’d actually bid higher than the fifty grand I’d had to my name. The shame of being unable to afford the full bid roared back until I was breathing through a wet rag.
“I’m having a nice night out with my girlfriend, Riley,” Teller said evenly. “If you can’t be nice, you can keep walking.”
Her eyes bulged. “ Girlfriend ?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh my god, are you and Wendi just exchanging partners?”
“You’ll have to ask Wendi,” I said silkily, “since you’re the one who covered for her during her affair with my husband.”
The man with Riley arched a brow.
Riley had the grace to show a smidgeon of guilt. “Does she know?”
“I don’t care if she does,” Teller answered before I could give her my standard—it was none of her business.
I wouldn’t leave it at that. Teller might’ve shown me a nicer side of life, but I had still been raised a Townsend. “You can tell her, and I would love to know Damien’s reaction to hearing how interested his girlfriend is in her ex.”
Riley’s nostrils flared. “Wendi’s fiancé .”
I waited for a jolt of anger or jealousy. The emotional well was quiet. “They deserve each other.”
A sneer twisted her red lips. “They definitely deserved more than they had.”
After talking to Teller tonight, her words clattered to the floor like dull butter knives, each one missing its mark.
“What a coincidence,” Teller said. “So did we.”
Her date appraised her a second before sliding a hand around her waist. “We should get going, bunny.”
Her glare stayed on me. She didn’t move at his first nudge.
“Tell Wendi I said hi.” I was the epitome of politeness.
“Tell Damien he’s a dumbass,” Teller added.
I snorted and covered my mouth. I hadn’t meant to make that sound, but Teller’s comment had been a surprise. And really damn funny.
Riley sucked in an indignant breath, but the guy gave her a firm nudge and murmured something to her.
His words carried to us. “Don’t embarrass me.”
Riley stumbled away with him.
Giggles took over. The audacity. The irony. The drama. Everything I usually tried to avoid but was a magnet for. “I can’t believe we drove to Bozeman to be anonymous. And I forgot I bid fifty-five grand for you.”
“Worth every penny?”
“Well, you paid five of it, and you’re not done with the project yet.”
He chuckled and grabbed my hand over the table. “You handled that well.”
“Really? People usually get upset with me when I talk back.”
“You dished out what she was giving, but you kept your tone civil.” He rolled a shoulder. “Mostly. But she deserved it—and dug herself a helluva hole with that guy.”
“I’m sure as soon as she shows him her tits, he’ll forgive her.”
“You’d get away with a lot if you did that. FYI.”
More laughter bubbled out of me. Before Teller, a run-in like this would have left me stewing for hours, if not days. I’d be more self-conscious the next time I ran an errand, waiting for someone to be rude or to admonish me for what I’d said. But not tonight. Teller gave me props and made jokes.
I was falling so hard for him, tumbling into an abyss I had never thought was for me. If things didn’t work out between us, I’d truly know what heartbreak felt like. The end of my marriage had been a betrayal. An exposure to the reality that life wasn’t as good as I’d hoped, as I’d dared dream.
My heart. My reality. My dreams. I’d been giving them all to him and, with them, all the power.