5. Chapter 5
five
Keys? Check. Wallet? Check. Lucky scrunchie? Check. I was all set for my first day running My Batter Half Bakery and Café. I’d even woken up half an hour earlier than usual, yet I was somehow still leaving at the exact same time. Story of my life.
I checked the peep hole to make sure there was no Max waiting for me outside. The coast was clear.
I straightened my chef’s coat and clutched my umbrella tighter before stepping into the hall.
The rain hadn’t let up all night, and the forecast didn’t make it seem like that would change any time soon.
This was when having a bum car—AKA: no car—really sucked.
But I’ve got this. I refused to let anything rain on my parade today.
Okay, so maybe horrible puns ran in the family and Lex wasn’t the only culprit. But it was possible to both make and appreciate bad puns and also feel physical pain from them. They were versatile that way.
Apparently the Powers That Be wanted to test me. Maybe exact revenge for wishing stomach cramps on them. Two steps past Max’s door, it opened, and he joined me in the hallway.
And oh. My. Coffeecake . If he looked good in a suit, he looked otherworldly in workout clothes. And by “otherworldly,” I don’t mean like bug-eyed aliens or Jabba the Hutt or the Vulcans from Star Trek . I mean more like nothing from this earth could possibly look that perfect. Just… Wow.
His light zip-up hoodie obscured some of the curves of his shoulders but allowed me to see how the fabric of his shirt lay across his chest like it belonged there.
Never before had I been so jealous of a shirt.
His athletic shorts showed off even more muscles and gorgeous olive skin.
His black hair was deliciously mussed, like he’d just woken up and ran a hand through it, and he rubbed at his eyes as he closed his door behind him.
I didn’t think he’d seen me yet, but what exactly could I do about that—sprint for the stairs in the two seconds it would take him to rub the sleep out of his eyes?
Uh, yeah, I may be desperate to avoid him, but I wasn’t sprinting-level desperate.
That only came when being chased by an ax murderer. Or snakes.
Instead, I used those two seconds to close my mouth before any drool could leak out.
I may not make it out before he saw me, but I sure wasn’t going to stick around and wait for him to catch up. Nope. Fate was serving him ample opportunities for revenge, but I didn’t need to make it easier for him by embarrassing myself. Even if I deserved whatever he had planned.
I’d only speed-walked another few paces before his voice broke the early morning silence. “Dekker?”
Crappity crab legs . Now social graces demand I at least turn and acknowledge him.
Note to self: bring earbuds in the future to have plausible deniability when I didn’t respond to him.
I turned briefly, conveying in the angle of my body that I was in a hurry. And wasn’t I? This was a big day for me, and I didn’t need him or his revenge plans ruining it. “Oh, hey, Max!”
He seemed to take this as an invitation to walk out together, since he caught up to me in a few strides. Curse his long, muscular legs. Again.
“When you said you had the sleep schedule of a senior citizen, I thought you just went to bed early. Didn’t realize you also woke up before the sun.”
“Yep.”
Man, was I being rude? That sounded rude. He didn’t deserve that, especially from me, of all people.
“I work the opening shift at the bakery, so I have to get up crazy early every day.” I sent him a curious look, plodding down the stairs beside him. “What are you doing awake this early? You don’t have to be in to the field office until eight-ish, right?”
“Right.” He offered a sheepish smile as he held the door open for me. “This is when I work out. I’ve always been a morning person, and this guarantees I can exercise without distractions.”
I popped my umbrella open against the onslaught of rain. “Are there even any gyms open at this time?”
He shrugged, lifting his hood up over his head. “Most open at six, but I go to a twenty-four-hour one. Fits better with the unpredictable hours of the job.”
I paused, the raindrops hitting against my umbrella and jarring my hand. “But don’t some of your stings and surveillance and time-sensitive cases have you working, like, forty-eight hours straight sometimes? When do you sleep?”
He smiled, digging his keys out of his pocket. “Worried about me, Dekker?”
I sputtered. “N-no, I—well—actually, yes. I am worried.”
If the guy died of sleep deprivation before I could even the karmic scales, I didn’t know how I’d live with myself.
Plus, I wasn’t heartless . I cared if he took care of himself, if he was suffering or not.
And I’d already ruined his chance at happiness once.
After he got back at me, he could maybe find happiness again. But not if he up and died.
He dipped his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Well, our squad doesn’t have it as bad as some of the others like anti-terrorism and gangs, so you don’t have to worry.”
Somehow, that wasn’t comforting. “Not as bad” didn’t equal “we’ve got it good.”
“When those kinds of weeks do happen,” he continued, “I just take a break until I can get my schedule back on track. It’s not like I work out every day of the week.”
I squinted at him, checking for signs of deceit.
Not that I’d be able to recognize them if I saw them since I was such a horrible liar myself, but it was worth a shot.
He didn’t appear to be lying, though the poor lighting the building provided in the dark didn’t help matters, so I took his word for it.
“Okay, good.” I shifted my umbrella up and over to shield him from the rain, too. “Here.”
He flipped his hood up and flashed another quick smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. My car isn’t far from here. I can walk with you to make sure you make it safely to yours, though.”
I snorted. “What car? This is my cardio for the day.”
And, if I didn’t get my car fixed soon, it would be my cardio for the month, too. Ew.
“You don’t have a car?”
I shrugged, picking up my pace a little. I’d already talked too long. “No, I do.”
It just wasn’t in the land of the living at the moment, which he didn’t need to know. I still had to call a tow to take it from Lex’s complex to a mechanic. Maybe a necromancer. With the sounds poor Tilly the Toyota had been making before she died, dark magic might be necessary.
“But you’re not going to drive?”
“Nope. I need the exercise.” That was technically true, right? I wasn’t exactly lying to him, no matter how much my stomach pitched with guilt. If he interpreted my true statements to mean I chose to walk even while having the option to drive myself, that was on him. Sort of.
He kept up with me, despite the fact that we were rapidly leaving the parking lot behind. “So you walk to the bakery at four in the morning every day alone ?”
“Not every day.” My shoes splashed through a puddle on the sidewalk. “I usually have Fridays and Sundays off.”
“Still. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”
“That’s why I’ve got my umbrella.”
“That’s why you’ve—Dekker, an umbrella isn’t going to do much against an attacker, especially if they’re armed.”
I spun to face him, wasting precious seconds I could’ve been using to get closer to the bakery.
“I take as many precautions as I can, okay? No earbuds in, I use well-lit paths, I don’t linger anywhere, and I’m constantly watching my surroundings.
I can take care of myself, Max. I’ve been doing it for years, and I haven’t run into any trouble yet. ”
Though that may be due to dumb luck more than anything else, but I digress.
He ran a hand through his hair with an agitated huff. “Let me give you a ride, at least. I’m going to the gym anyway, remember?”
Honestly, a ride would save me a lot of time and possibly some wet socks.
But then I’d owe him even more, and whatever work my cupcakes had done to start decreasing the debt would be thrown out entirely.
I wasn’t going to knowingly burden anyone with problems I’d gotten myself into, and especially not Max.
I could handle myself. I really could. It’s what I’d had to do for years now.
Between Lex going to Quantico and then her first assignment in Philadelphia, Dominick’s passing, and Mom and Dad’s globetrotting, I’d been on my own.
Moved on my own. Graduated culinary school on my own.
Ran a bakery on my own. There have been friends here and there, some close and some not, but ultimately I’ve had to rely on myself.
It was best for everyone that way.
I should’ve taken my car in when the check engine light first came on, but I’d put it off. I’d gotten myself into this situation, so I’d get myself through it.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. Really.” I walked faster.
He kept pace. “Then I can walk with you.”
“No. Uh-uh. You’ve got your own thing you’re doing, and I’ll be fine.”
Another huff of frustration. “Then at least text me when you get there?”
“I don’t have your number.”
He jumped in front of me, barring my path with his broad-shouldered self. Before I could protest, he plopped his phone into my hand, already open to the text messaging app. “Text yourself and then you will. Simple.”
Well, dang. I couldn’t argue with that.
“All right, fine.” I obliged, passing the phone off to him in a hurry and stepping around him. “Bye, Max.”
“Don’t forget to text!” he called after me.
Never in a million years would I have thought I’d get Max Fuentes’ number. I seriously doubted I’d have to use it any other time, but maybe I could caution him away from my apartment next time I had a belt-snake freak out. Which was hopefully never.
I made it to the bakery in record time, my shins burning from speed walking the four blocks here. The benefit of going to work at unholy hours was that it was even too miserable for the majority of the riff raff in the city. So… yay?
The comforting aroma of sugar and cinnamon lingering in the air wrapped itself around me as I let myself in.
I breathed it in greedily as I shook out my umbrella, my blood pumping from excitement as well as my walk.
I was the captain of this ship today. It had been a long time since I’d stepped into the role.
Hopefully it won’t end as horribly as last time.
I tightened my bun in my lucky scrunchie and straightened my shoulders. It wouldn’t end horribly. Things were different this time. All the perks with none of the risks.
I could do this.