Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
AIDEN
“I hope I’m not overwhelming you. I’m not a good teacher, and I’m not used to explaining things. If you have questions, please—”
“Ask you.” This man is a ball of nerves. “I know, you said.”
He moves around the kitchen in restless loops, hands fluttering like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He keeps rambling about shit I’m pretending to care about, and while he talks, I take in the space. The kitchen is empty. Functional, but nothing special. No real place to hide anything.
Which means it might be upstairs. If he even has it.
I watch the nervous way he moves around me, and a knot of tension lingers in my chest like a weighted blanket I can’t lift. Was I going to kiss him? No, right? I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t even realize I’d leaned into him. I wasn’t even thinking about it.
Right?
I only felt bad about being an asshole.
I’m here for one reason, and it sure as hell isn’t him.
He’s still talking about dough and the blast chiller, but my eyes keep drifting around the room. It’s a mess. The sink is full of dirty dishes, and equipment is shoved wherever it’ll fit. There doesn’t seem to be much else back here.
“What’s in those cabinets?”
Sawyer turns and opens the row of cabinets containing ingredients and some molds and mixing bowls.
No elephant.
So it might be upstairs. It’s okay. I have time.
This is only the first week. I told Ivan I have an in, and if I do what he asks, everything will be fine.
Ivan was clear that I’m not to fuck anything up.
No noise. No one prying into our business.
I’m not sure why, but he’s grown even more paranoid since we got back to New York.
“I’m just used to doing everything myself,” Sawyer says, dragging a hand through his hair. I watch pieces fall right back over his forehead. “Not used to explaining things.”
Act like you give a shit. I can do this.
Focus on the job, not the neurotic mess of a man before me. “You do this every day?” His tired gaze lifts to me, and I can see he’s barely holding himself together. All this work, and for what?
“Yeah. Every day. Hence why I have no life.”
“Why do you do it if no one comes in?”
Sawyer blinks like I’ve hit him. “Um. Ouch.”
“No, I just mean . . . it’s a lot of work, right? For what?”
“Not helping, man.” He smiles, shaking his head. “You’re right. You don’t people well.”
I step closer. I don’t know shit about baking, but I can do this at least. He deflates, curling back over his notebook and scribbling something down. “I have to come up with the menu for the Valentine’s event. Not sure what we’re officially calling it, though.”
“Valentine’s,” I scoff.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Sorry, Mr. Cynical, but some of us like romance and big dramatic feelings. It’s going to be fun.” He grins. “Maybe I’ll meet someone.”
A sharp flicker of heat coils in my stomach.
I shove it down.
“I am sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to be an asshole, it just—”
“Comes naturally?” Sawyer murmurs.
I look at him as his eyes lift to mine, and the warmth in them catches me. Nothing like the dark stormy brown they were the other night. It’s like they shift with his mood, and right now he’s being playful.
“I said I was sorry,” I repeat.
Sawyer hops off his seat then walks over to me and reaches out a hand. He nods toward it. I slowly slide my hand into his and my world narrows to his touch. The soft warm squeeze of his fingers makes my pulse quicken. I can feel it beating under my skin. My fingers linger a bit too long.
I pull away.
“Truce.”
Pretty, bright eyes—dark brown with flecks of gold. They seem to warm on me. He has a small beauty mark next to the corner of his mouth. It moves when he smiles.
Why is my hand still hot?
I stretch and flex my fingers.
Get your shit together. I clear my throat. “What else can I do to help today?” While this isn’t real to me, it is to him.
I want that elephant.
But maybe I want him to succeed too.
I push back my hair, thinking about business I have no right to. “So,” I say casually. “Hear from that asshole date?”
Sawyer shakes his head. “No. Blocked. Not dealing with that again. I don’t care how desperate I am.”
“Why don’t you just go on an app and find some guy? Easy and done.”
“Not everyone just wants sex, Aiden.” I scoff. “I don’t.”
“Isn’t sex like the be all and end all of awesome shit?”
“Is it like that for you?” he questions, but heat slaps my face and I swallow, trying to calm my racing heart. “Are you a quick good time?” he teases, not seeing the war within me.
I have no idea what I am. Or what I like.
I just know that whatever the fuck is happening here, I hate it.
“No,” is all I say.
“Yeah, well, me either.” He pulls the stool out and sits down. “I don’t need sex. I need intimacy. I also need to not have this conversation with my new employee who could sue me for sexual harassment.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?
Sawyer ignores me. “Also, you don’t need to dress up. You can just wear sweats and a T-shirt or whatever you’re comfortable in. We’re going to be moving a lot of things tomorrow.”
“I am comfortable.”
Sawyer looks me up and down. “Wearing a dress shirt and pants?” He shakes his head. “Unless the store’s open, I’m in sweats and a ratty-ass T-shirt like this.”
Ratty? I look at the soft red shirt he’s wearing. Yeah, there are holes in it, and it looks worn through in places . . . The soft red looks good on him. “I like my clothes.” And I also don’t have much else to wear. This is pretty much it, and then my gym clothes.
“It’s okay. Just letting you know in case you didn’t.
No dress code right now.” Sawyer puts his pen down and his fingers dive into his hair before he rubs them through.
Strands stick up a bit here and there. This is stupid.
“I have to buy the ingredients for the event by the end of this week, so I need to solidify this. I want something romantic—chocolate, cherries, strawberries. Sexy.”
“How can dessert be sexy?”
Sawyer’s heavy gaze lands on me. “Dessert can be very sexy, Aiden. I’m thinking a truffle bar. Like maybe ten or so different flavors. They’re easy to eat and delicious, and there are so many different ways to make them.” He writes that down. “Maybe I’ll do a spread of different flavors I like.”
“What else are you doing during the event?”
“We’re going to do a speed-dating thing.
It’s going to be for anyone who wants to meet new friends or maybe form a romantic connection.
We’re going to have a dessert bar, and a coffee bar.
There’ll be full-sized desserts in the case to purchase, and the dessert bar is going to be sample-sized.
During the speed-dating part, my friends are going to hand out samples of things I make for the window on normal days outside of the event.
Noah wants to hold a poll on our social media page and ask everyone what their favorites were after.
Music startles us both, and Sawyer grabs his phone.
“Oh, shit.” He answers it. “Hey. Oh yeah, at Hunter’s?
” I hear a voice on the other end of the phone.
“Sure, um . . . yeah, I just need to call a ride. No, yeah, no problem, I get it. Yeah. I wouldn’t let you drive my car either, Noah.
No, I know I don’t have one, but I if I did, I’d know enough not to let you use it.
Yeah. Yup.” Sawyer laughs. “Okay, I’ll get ready in a bit. ”
He gets up, and since he mentioned the wardrobe rule, I can’t stop looking at his clothes, soft and worn to his body. He bends and grabs something out of a cabinet, and my eyes drag up his legs and then his ass before I can stop myself.
He turns sharply, and I’m staring at his dick.
Or at least the outline.
Koda never shuts up about guys in sweatpants, and I’ve always thought it was stupid.
Who gives a shit about sweatpants?
Me, apparently.
I think I have a fever.
I force the thoughts out of my head. I need to stop thinking about the other night. “Aiden, are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m fine.” The bell chimes, thankfully distracting us from this conversation. “I thought you were closed?”
“I am, and there are only two other people who have a key. So, since I know where the other one is, that means it’s—”
“Hello, bitches!” A female voice floats through the bakery.
“My sister.” Sawyer smiles tightly. She calls out to him, speaking in Thai, and he laughs, saying something back I can’t understand.
He’s shaking his head as she whirls around the corner and stops speaking when she sees me.
“Oh. Hello.” She looks me up and down. “Please tell me I’m interrupting something. ” She winks.
“Aiden, this is Satan. Satan, this is my employee, Aiden.”
“Oh. Nice.” She slinks like a cat into the kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Aiden. What are we working on?” I’ve already met her, but unlike her brother, it seems she doesn’t remember me.
“The menu for the Valentine’s event.”
“Oh! I’m so proud of you.” She loops her arms around his neck, strangling him and giving him a kiss on the side of his head that he immediately wipes off.
“If you don’t make eye contact, sometimes she’ll go away,” he says to me, laughing when she pushes him. “Why are you here anyway?”
“One of my clients is having an opening next month and I wanted to know if you’d make some cupcakes for her showing.” Sawyer picks up the form with wide eyes. “Yeah, that’s right, and if you need more money, just ask. Rich people will pay whatever you need.”
“No, this is um . . . this is enough.” Sawyer pins the order form up on the bulletin board he has. “I’ll start planning tomorrow.”
“No rush. I’m going home for a week, but I’ll be back for the event. Do you need anything from me before I leave?”
“No, that’s it. Thank you.”
“Well . . .” She looks between us. “Have fun with your hot new employee.”
“He’s not hot . . . I mean he’s. . . Not that you aren’t . . .” He snaps his mouth shut. “Bye, Janey.”
“Isn’t he cute all flustered?” She winks at me. “Have fun, boys. Don’t let him ride you too hard, Aiden.”
“Jesus Christ,” Sawyer groans into his hands. “I’m sorry about her.” He looks up at the clock then goes back to his notebook, and I smile thinking about Jane’s words and the red crawling up his face.
“You don’t think I’m hot?” I look up and smirk before wiping it away. “Not even a little cute?”
The laugh that spills from his lips pulls a smile out of me before I can stop it. Sawyer rests his chin on his hands with his elbows on the stainless steel counter. “I think you’re trouble, Aiden.” He presses his tongue against his cheek. “Definitely trouble.”