45. Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Nellie
“ A re you sure you’re ready to be back?” Ava asked, hovering behind me like she was my shadow—or like she was worried I was going to drop the tray of cupcakes I was holding. Carlo looked up from his now-regular seat in the corner, watching the interaction.
“I’m ready to not be sitting at home anymore.” I sat the cupcakes on the prep counter before plugging the mixer in. Ava scowled at me, like she was torn between scolding me for rushing back and coddling me for having been hurt at all.
“I know,” she sighed. “But shouldn’t you be resting?”
When I bent down to grab shortening from the shelf to make the frosting, I winced at the tenderness in my side, and Ava rushed to take it from my hands. I grabbed it back from her more forcefully than necessary and had to hide the jolt of pain that traveled my body. “The doctor said I was fine. I’m fine. Now, will everyone please stop babying me?”
“But—” I was relieved when the bell over the door interrupted Ava’s argument, but when her eyes widened, my stomach sank and the hairs on my neck stood up.
I turned around slowly, seeing Detective Stanton and his partner standing in the doorway. Carlo sat in a ready-to-fight-the-second-anything-goes-wrong position. “What are you doing here?” My voice shook when I spoke, and I swallowed.
“We heard you’ve had a rough couple of days,” Detective Stanton said. He knew? Ronan said they weren’t going to the police, that it was safer without it. Every step closer he took, the more my stomach tightened until I no longer felt like I could breathe—like there was a vice inside me, squeezing.
“How did you know?” I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around myself, as if it would protect me from the expected onslaught of questions coming my way.
Detective Stanton grinned, but the look in his eyes was less than friendly, and I was thankful for Carlo. “We know more than your boyfriend gives us credit for.” He took another step forward. “You’re in danger, Nellie.”
“No, I’m not.” Even as nervous butterflies raced toward my throat and I questioned if what the detective was saying could be true, I didn’t believe him. I trusted Ronan. Even if I shouldn’t.
He nodded, looking more serious. “Yes, you are, and if you don’t let us help you, it’s only going to get worse.”
“How will you help me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Carlo sat up straighter, as if it helped him hear better.
“If you can tell me what you know, I can protect you. We can get these monsters off the streets, and you’ll never have to worry about them hurting you again.” He gave me a grin that had to have been his version of the smile I give customers when I’m trying to sell extra cupcakes. It sent a chill down my spine. “But you must give me info. I need something. Otherwise, there’s nothing I can do.”
“I told you, I’m perfectly fine.” I shook my head. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
The smile on his face disappeared, and he leaned over the counter. “This isn’t a life you want to live, Nellie. The Morettis are bad people. Help me get you away from this!”
“You need to go.” I took a step back, concerned he might reach over the counter and grab my apron. Would he do that? I didn’t want to find out what would happen to him if he did.
Detective Stanton didn’t move. “If you don’t help me, I can’t promise you won’t get wrapped up in this. A pretty girl like you may not do so well in jail.” Carlo stood up, and his chair scraped across the floor, making an awful sound. The detective cringed slightly at the sound, but he kept his stare coldly glued to me.
“I said you need to leave.” My voice shook, but I pointed to the door. “Now.”
“That’s too bad.” He shook his head like he was a disappointed parent. “I really did want to help you. This isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of us.”
“That’s fine. I haven’t done anything wrong.” I held his stare while he backed toward the door, and his partner followed. When the bell rang as they left, I felt relieved and instantly exhausted, like I could use a nap.
Carlo left his corner, quickly approaching me. He put his hand on my shoulder, and the firm grip made me realize how weak my legs felt. I leaned against the counter with my hip. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at me like he was searching for a wound he knew wouldn’t be there. He had seen the entire interaction. “I should call Ronan.”
“No, don’t call him. I’m okay.” I nodded, earning a disbelieving head tilt. Ava did the same thing from next to me, and it was like I instantly had two babysitters instead of one.
“You’re really pale,” she said. Was I?
“I’m fine,” I insisted, putting my hands up and looking pointedly at each of them. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“What isn’t that big of a deal?” Ronan asked while the bell rang, and I gasped. “You’re supposed to be at home.” He walked into the bakery, immediately rounding the counter and pulling me to him.
“I couldn’t be there anymore. I was getting stir crazy at home.” I wrapped my arms around him, giving Carlo a look over Ronan’s shoulder that told him not to say anything about the exchange.
Ronan broke the hug, brushing my hair out of my face and pressing his lips to my forehead. “You need to rest.”
“Will you all please stop treating me like I’m broken?” I asked, putting my hands against his chest when he didn’t drop it, pushing him back from me. “I’m fine!”
He looked at me for a minute like he was prepared to argue it, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he demanded he take me home immediately and tuck me right into bed. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tell him no if he did. “Fine,” he said instead. I felt temporary relief until he spoke again. “Now, what wasn’t a big deal?”
“You have to tell him,” Carlo said, and I shot a dirty look in his direction.
“Tell me what?” Ronan’s voice was lower, almost scary, when he was demanding. When his stare bored into mine, I gulped.
“That the FBI was here.” I tried to sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew it was.
He snapped. “They were what?” His voice was loud enough that Ava cringed, and I was sure anyone standing outside the bakery could hear him too. “Why didn’t you call me?
“They were only here for five minutes,” I explained, pointing at the door. “It was Detective Stanton and the squirrely guy. They just left a few minutes before you got here.”
“What did they want?” Ronan’s nostrils flared, and he took a too-calm-for-how-angry-he-was breath.
I put my hands on his chest again, trying to feel through his skin how hard his heart was beating. “To tell me you’re dangerous. He knew about them taking me.”
Ronan sighed. “I know,” he said. I lifted a brow, tilting my head and scrunching my nose. How did he know? “Nikki has been feeding them information. Come with me.” He took my hand, leading me around the counter toward the door.
“Where are we going?” I looked over my shoulder at Ava, who nodded—a silent promise that she’d keep an eye on the bakery like she had all week. I hoped she would frost the cupcakes I was leaving on the counter too.
Ronan held the door open for me. “I’m going to show you something.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Ronan broke the silence once we were on the road. I nodded. “What did they say to you?”
I turned in my seat to face him, tugging my seatbelt away from my chest and hooking it under my arm. “They told me I’m in danger, that they can help me if I tell them what I know about you.”
“What did you say?” He was guarded, watching me from the corner of his eye.
“I told him I don’t know anything.” I reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning towards him. “I told them I’m fine.”
When we pulled up to a red light, he looked over to me. His stare was intense, like it carried the weight of a statement not yet spoken but had been swimming in my mind since Grace came over. “Did you believe them? That you’re in danger?” I thought about it. It had only been a week since I was kidnapped from my own bakery and held hostage by someone apparently mad at the mafia.
“Not really.” I shook my head. “Maybe I should be scared, like he said, but I’m not. I don’t know why.”
“My life is dangerous, but I’m not a threat to you. I will never hurt you.” He sighed, ignoring the traffic around us. “I never meant for Dickie to get hurt. I tried to keep him out of it.” Ronan grabbed my hands, squeezing them between his. I couldn’t look away from his stare, even when the light turned green. “I’ll spend the rest of my life keeping you out of it too.”
The car behind us honked, and Ronan turned back to face the front, taking one of his hands off mine and putting it on the wheel. He continued to hold my hand with the other when he went through the intersection, brushing his thumb over the back of my knuckles. I watched the yellow and white lines on the road start to blur.
“I still wonder what he’d say about us,” I said, trying to picture the look on Dickie’s face if he saw me and Ronan holding hands—or more.
Ronan laughed, throwing his head back in a carefree way that made him look less intimidating. “Oh, he’d try to kill me, no doubt about it.”
We were laughing when he pulled the car over a few blocks later. I took a deep breath, fighting away the last of the giggles while I looked out the window. “What do we do now?” I asked when he put it in park.
“I was thinking about you expanding the bakery.” He smirked, licking his lips, and I wondered if he was thinking about the cupcakes he now loved so much or me. Maybe both.
I laughed. I could barely keep the bakery I already had going. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged, pointing at the building next to us. “Why not? Sugar & Spice could have two locations. It could be a small chain.” I noticed the for sale sign in the window and the sold sticker pasted across it.
“What did you do?” I asked, pursing my lips to fight back the smile.
Ronan lifted a brow, and I couldn’t resist the playful smirk on his face that sent butterflies dancing toward my throat. "I already bought it.”
“You might have actually lost your mind!” I looked from him to the dark building and back. “You bought another building?”
He nodded. “I did. Want to go inside?”
Ronan didn’t wait for me to say yes before he turned off the car and climbed out, quickly rounding the front to open my door for me. I took his hand, getting out. The brick building looked less worn than the one the bakery was already in, and the street was busier. There were more cars flying down the road, and people were milling about on the sidewalks. I imagined a sign hanging above the door.
“Come on,” he said, opening the door and letting me walk in first. The tiles were all black, and the wallpaper peeled from the walls. It reeked of dust and moisture that had sat too long, and a stack of realtors’ business cards littered the counter. Still, there was potential.
I could picture large display cases lined with cupcakes and tables filled with customers. A fresh layer of paint on the wall and hanging lights would brighten it. The more I imagined it, the more I pictured myself behind the counter.
“What do you think?” he asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. Ronan nuzzled my neck, and I leaned back against him.
“I think I can’t believe you bought another building.” I spun in his arms so I was facing him. “Did you really do this for me?”
He nodded. “I did. It’s yours, and I’ll buy you anything you need to get it up and running.” I giggled when he kissed my cheek. Was this really happening? “Under one condition,” he added.
“What’s that?” I flattened my hands against his back.
Ronan lifted a brow. “You have to be mine.”
I laughed, pressing my chest closer to his.
“I thought I already was.” Wasn’t I? He had called me his girl—more than once. I looked up at him, meeting the intense stare already set on me. His eyes got impossibly darker, and my stomach swirled with nerves.
“I need to hear you say it.” Ronan bent toward me, pressing his forehead against mine. I inhaled the semi-sweet need on his breath.
I gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m yours.”
“That’s right. You’re mine,” he said with a smile that made my heartbeat race. He leaned closer so our lips brushed together when he spoke. “Now tell me I’m yours.”
“You’re mine,” I whispered before he kissed me.