Chapter Seven
Phoebe
The concern Pacino had at the bakery shook something inside of me. He barely knows me, and he’s only here because Scotty and Sarah are dating.
But he genuinely wants to help. He wants to find out why someone seems to be following me. Risking others to stalk me.
I don’t know what I could have done to warrant someone wanting to harm me. Especially to this extent.
I know I’m annoying. Most people say they can only handle me in small doses, and that’s fine. That’s not a good reason to case out my bakery, as Tucker puts it.
The situation tonight didn’t scare me for me. Sarah started freaking out, and there were a group of kids in the lobby. That’s who I was scared for.
Come for me. I’m fine with that. I’ve been through some of the worst things in the world, and I’m still here. I rebuilt myself before, and I can do it again.
The comment about monsters to Tucker wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to say it to him. It just kind of slipped out when I tried to explain why I wasn’t scared for myself.
Of course he’d ask if I was sure the monsters weren’t the ones doing this to me. And I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me when I say they’re dead. They are.
Doesn’t mean they don’t still haunt me every night.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tucker asks as we step into the house.
Nodding, I let out a long breath. “I’m fine. Thank you. How was your day?”
“Are you serious right now?”
He takes off his boots, and I set mine beside his in the entryway. Everything has its place, and I almost laugh. No man has ever been this anal retentive before. Not that I’ve ever seen, anyway.
“I’m always serious when I ask about someone’s day.”
For the first time, I see the slightest smirk. Kind of.
At least it’s something.
“My day was uneventful. Until I got Scotty’s call. How was yours?”
Stretching, I roll my shoulders. “I had an order of four dozen cupcakes that Scotty caused to land frosting side down as Sarah brought them out to the customer.”
His mouth drops. “You’re shitting me.”
I’ve never been particularly fond of that phrase. “Um… no?”
“He paid for them, right?”
Waving my hand in the air, I shake my head. “Accidents happen. Luckily, I had extra cupcakes in the back for an order for tomorrow we were able to use. I just had to bake more.”
“He’s paying for them, Yellow Crayon.”
The nickname he’s given me makes me feel all tingly inside. It’s as affectionate as I suspect he gets. “It’s okay, Tucker. Really.”
“How did he get in the way, anyway?”
Scrunching my nose, I begin making dinner as he sits at the kitchen island. It’s become our routine. I come home from work, he follows me, and I make us dinner. Then he helps me clean up.
It’s almost domestic.
“I found out that Scotty and Sarah have a spot in the back they use to… get together. He didn’t realize I was there, and he walked back to meet her, pushing the door into her as she walked out to the lobby, cupcakes in her arms.”
“They’re fucking in the kitchen?”
Sighing, I nod. “I put a stop to it. If the health inspector ever found out…”
“I’ll make sure it fucking stops,” he says. “I can’t say I’m surprised. And I’m a little impressed. But mostly, I’m annoyed. Scotty knows better.”
“They’re in love,” I say, putting the casserole I prepared this morning into the oven. “Whatever that means.”
He tilts his head. “You’ve never been in love?”
“This sounds a little like we’re getting into personal territory,” I say with a smirk.
“You can’t just drop something like that and not expect me to pick it up and run with it.”
“Why? Have you?”
To my surprise, he nods. “Yeah, I have.”
The pang of jealousy surprises me. “What happened?”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” he says. “You’ve really never been in love?”
I sigh and lean against the island. “No.”
“But you’ve dated?”
“I’ve had a few boyfriends. No, that’s not quite true. I’ve had two boyfriends.”
“And you didn’t love either of them?”
It’s hard to explain without going into detail about everything that comes with having a relationship with me. The baggage that needs unpacking. Baggage I don’t like to acknowledge I have.
“No. To be fair, I don’t think they really liked me. Not for long. But that’s okay. I’m better off by myself.”
“That’s what I tell myself, too,” Tucker says. “No one believes it.”
“I don’t really have that problem,” I admit.
We both know why. I’m a lot to handle in large doses. And I’ve accepted that. I like who I am. Some days are harder than others to be as happy as I am, but I make that choice. Every single day. And I’d rather be known as annoyingly happy than the alternative version of myself I despise.
“You are an interesting woman,” Tucker says. “Fascinating, almost.”
I laugh, wishing he’d crack a smile. Just one. “I guess that’s a way to put it.”
“We’re going to figure this out.”
If only I had as much faith as he does. I’m mostly banking on whoever’s stalking me getting bored. That’s how I assume this will all end. How everything inevitably does.
“Has anyone been spotted outside my house?”
He shakes his head. “I set up a camera, and I haven’t seen the SUV.”
I could bring up that might mean I’m safe at home. That I can leave. But I don’t really want to do that. This is as close to a relationship as I’ve gotten in five years. It’s kind of nice.
His phone beeps, and I turn to check the oven. His kitchen is large and was probably extremely impressive when it was built. But the appliances could use an upgrade. Or maybe some maintenance. The oven isn’t very reliable with the temperatures.
The first time I tried to bake biscuits, I burned them. I have never once burned biscuits in my life. If it’s set at 350, it’s actually closer to 400.
And one side of the oven cooks hotter than the other. So everything bakes unevenly if it doesn’t get turned midway through. I grab a potholder and spin the casserole dish around to make sure it cooks through. There’s nothing worse than biting into something cold that should definitely not be cold.
“You said the highest security system for the bakery, right?” Tucker asks.
My stomach churns. “Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?”
Closing the oven door, I lean on the island again. “Can I be honest?”
“I’d prefer it.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to come up with the money to pay for it.”
God, that sounds so negative. I’m not normally in that mindset. I’m a glass-half-full type of gal.
“Phoebe—”
“You know what? I’ll figure it out. If I have to move some stuff around, I’ll make it happen. You really can’t put a price on safety, right?”
That makes me laugh, and I cover my mouth as I giggle. Tucker leans back, and he looks frightened.
“What’s so funny?”
“Can’t put a price on safety?” I ask between fits of laughter.
He frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“You do.”
“I do what?”
“Put a price on safety.”
His eyes glance around the kitchen. “I still don’t get it.”
Wiping my eyes, I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. “You own a security system. You charge amounts for those systems.”
“So I put a price on safety,” he says.
My mouth drops open when he smiles. Tucker actually smiled.
“What?”
“Your mouth is doing something weird.”
The smile turns into his normal frown. “It is?”
“Yeah, I think it was a… smirk.”
Snorting, he rolls his eyes. “I do smile.”
“Really? When?”
“Usually when I’m about to win a fight.”
“Never been in one,” I say, turning to check on the oven.
“Doesn’t really surprise me.”
I can’t believe I made him smile. It feels like I won the lottery. Like I can do anything in this world now.
“And as for the cost, we’ll figure something out,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes capture mine, and I’m left breathless. This man is breathtaking. Handsome and rugged. So attractive even though I suspect he doesn’t believe it to be so.
“Exactly what I said. We’ll figure out how to make it work cost-wise. Besides, I know Scotty will feel better having a system set up with Sarah there. He’s whipped.”
“You don’t have to do that, Tucker. You’ve already done so much—”
“I want to. And it’ll help the club. We’ve had too many guys come back to the clubhouse hopped up on a sugar high. Do me a favor?”
Right now, I’ll do just about anything he wants me to. “What’s that?”
“Make them pay for the food they eat when they’re there. You don’t need to give away that much free stuff.”
I just smile. “It’s my way of repaying them for helping keep us feeling safe.”
“Seriously, Phoebe, charge them. You deserve to get paid for what you do. You’re good at it.”
If only he realized his compliment shot straight to my heart. Something about Tucker has captivated me since the day we met, and I’m starting to fall for him. As much as everything in me tells me it’s a bad idea, and I’ll only get hurt, I can’t help it.
There’s something exciting about Tucker Vega. And he has so many layers, it’s like peeling back an onion.
Luckily, I like onions.