11.
J ANIS
I looked around the parking lot to make sure I was alone before I opened my door and got out. Of course, there could be someone hiding in the shadows, but that wasn’t as much my problem as it was theirs. I had learned long ago to never leave the house without a few tricks up my sleeve and in my pocket and in my purse, so if someone did jump out to do something nefarious, they probably wouldn’t survive to do anything else.
Once I was inside the bakery, I shut and locked the door behind me and then disarmed the security system and flipped on the overhead lights. I turned on the ovens as I walked past them toward the front to start my first pot of coffee. I took a quick glance around the kitchen and was happy to see that everything looked just as it should, which meant that my crew was on top of their game.
I hadn’t really had any doubt that they could take care of things - we were a well-oiled machine, but the fact that I had been away from my bakery for a week, six of which were days we had been open, had rocketed my anxiety up into the stratosphere, which didn’t help my pain level at all. Luckily, Jewel had upped the dosage on a few of my meds, which helped immensely because it stopped my flare in its tracks. What used to go on for weeks at a time, sometimes even months, before I got on my current medication, only lasted for four solid days. I’d learned ages ago not to push it, so I took an extra three days off just to make sure I was at the top of my game and ready to come back.
Of course, I’d been in almost constant contact with the women who were running the show and had already called Remney Cole, the accountant from Castle Management who was in charge of my payroll, to have her give Serana and Ginger a bonus along with their pay for the extra hours they’d put in this week.
I glanced at the clock and chided myself for dawdling. I got to work, eager to get back into my regular routine. As hard as my schedule was, I loved working at the bakery, and I especially loved the early mornings when everything was fresh and clean while also quiet.
I thought of how nice it had been to have Jonas, Lawson, and even Corey working in my kitchen. It wasn’t odd to find my dad back here on occasion, but those three, especially Corey, had never helped me before. I wondered if Dixie, Lawson and Jonas’ sister, was in her coffee shop next door yet and decided to peek in as soon as my coffee finished perking. Since my bakery only sold coffee and tea, I didn’t have all the yummy syrups to use. Dixie’s coffee shop had all the good stuff, and she didn’t mind if I popped in to get a couple of pumps to change up my coffee on occasion.
I knew that she had kept an eye on things from her side of the building, most likely popping in and out just to check in, as I had always done for her when she was out. However, Dixie had her own employees to worry about, and I hated having to rely on her, or anyone, to do that for me. That was why I was so glad to have the women who were working for me now.
By the time my coffee was ready, I had forgotten all about the flavored syrup I wanted because I had jumped right back into my routine and had five things going on at once, with batches of muffins in two ovens and cookies in three. With the regular items for the front of the shop taken care of, I flipped through the special orders that needed to be finished for pickup today. I saw from the notes that Serana and Ginger had already completed all the necessary prep work for each of them, so that gave me a chance to sit down for a few minutes and take a break.
That wasn’t something I would normally do, but I had promised myself and my parents that I’d take things slow for the first few days so I didn’t throw myself into another flare.
I had just taken a sip of my coffee when I heard a knock on the back door. It startled me so much that I jolted and nearly dropped my cup. I quickly pulled my phone out and opened the security camera app, only to find a patrol car parked in my alley and Corey Forrester standing outside the door.
“What in the hell?” I muttered as I hurried through the kitchen. I wanted to say that my heart was beating fast because of the adrenaline the scare had given me, but I knew that was a lie. I was excited about seeing Corey, which made me think that I really wasn’t over whatever hell my body had decided to put me through after all. Apparently, I was confusing reality with a delusion or something because I couldn’t remember the last time I was excited to see that particular Forrester. I unlocked the door and pulled it open to stare at him before I blurted, “What do you want?”
“Good morning to you, too, Grissom,” Corey said cheerfully as he walked past me into the kitchen. “Glad to see you’re back.”
I tried to ignore the urge to smell the air as he walked by and wondered what it was about his scent - always minty, as if he’d just popped in a piece of gum with the faint hint of what must be his body wash. He just smelled clean and manly instead of like an overpowering cologne. As he walked past me, I heard the creak of his leather belt that held a myriad of things from the radio with a cord that ran up to his shoulder, to the cuffs and extra ammunition clips on the other hip.
“Damn. It smells good in here. Have you already started baking, or is that just you?”
I slowly shut the door and locked it out of habit, which was good because my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders right now. Did Corey Forrester just say that I smelled good?
Without thinking, I fell back into my old patterns and said, “What do you want, Donut?” I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and said, “Good morning. Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee before you go?”
Corey turned and winked at me before he asked, “Did that hurt?” When I just glared at him in response, he chuckled and then turned around to continue into the kitchen. There was a cast iron pan on the shelf next to the door, and I stopped momentarily and closed my eyes as I imagined how amazing it would be to smack him in the head with it. I guess the thought made me smile because he said, “I’m not sure what sort of homicidal thoughts are putting a smile like that on your face, but at least that means you’re thinking about me.”
My eyes flew open, and I watched him walk around the corner with what I assumed was a look of horror on my face.
My inner voice was screaming, but I wasn’t sure if it was in glee or horror.
Did he just . . . He did, didn’t he? Does he want me to be thinking about him because he sure as hell doesn’t look irritated about it like he would have just a few weeks ago? And what the hell did that comment about me smelling good mean? Since when had he noticed something like that?
“Are you going to join me for coffee or just stand back there plotting my death?” Corey called out from the kitchen. “Oh shit! Are those apple pecan muffins? Hell yeah!”
I found him bent over the counter with a look of bliss on his face as he inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of the muffins I’d just removed from the oven a few minutes ago.
What is that look? I wonder if he looks like that after he comes. I bet he does. Why am I thinking about that? What in the hell is wrong with me? Get your shit together, Janis. Mortal enemy, remember?
I walked past Corey, who was still having an intimate moment with the muffins that were cooling on the counter, and poured him a mug of coffee. When I turned around, he was standing close behind me, and I jumped, sloshing the coffee onto my hand. I winced as I loudly set the now half-full mug on the counter and shook the liquid off my hand.
“I’m so sorry,” Corey apologized as he took my arm and guided me toward the small handwashing sink in the corner. He turned the cold water on and pushed my hand under it while he pulled some paper towels out of the holder on the wall. When I started to pull my hand out from under the water, he shook his head and then held my hand there for a few more seconds before he turned the water off and gently patted it dry. He inspected the red marks and then lifted it up to kiss my knuckles before he said, “I think you’re going to be okay.’
I stood there with my mouth open in shock, knowing that I looked like an idiot but absolutely not caring at all. What kind of game was he playing right now with the sweetness and the kissing and the heated looks?
Yes, Janis, that’s what you call a heated look. The look that says he’s thinking about stripping you naked and doing unmentionable things to your body. Which sounds great in theory, but when was the last time you shaved your legs?
Obviously, even my inner voice had lost her damn mind because even in whatever parallel universe we’d slipped into this morning, there was no way in hell Corey Forrester would be interested in seeing any part of me, including my hairy legs.
“What are you doing?” I asked as Corey got even closer.
He leaned in until his cheek was almost touching mine before he took a deep breath. I was about to pull away when he whispered, “Damn. It is you that smells so delicious.”
“What?” I asked as I reared my head back to look into his eyes, which put us almost nose to nose.
“You always smell so fucking good, Grissom. Edible. Like sugar and vanilla. It’s like all the magic you create in the kitchen has seeped into your skin.” Corey’s eyes got heated before he murmured, “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell.”
“Have you . . . What the . . . Who are you and what have you done to Donut?”
“Fuck it,” Corey said, ignoring me as he leaned even closer and touched his lips to mine.
I couldn’t focus on anything but the difference in how this kiss felt from the one years ago. Corey’s lips were firm and demanding as his arm wrapped around my waist to pull my body closer to his. As he tilted his head to angle his lips over mine, I completely forgot that I hated this man more than almost anyone in the world.
Suddenly, there was a loud squawk and then some woman’s voice speaking a language that seemed like a jumble of numbers before a man’s voice responded. Corey pulled back from me and cursed under his breath before he touched the mic on his shoulder and spouted some numbers of his own.
“Gotta run, Grissom, but I’m not done with you,” Corey warned. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and then rushed off, calling out over his shoulder, “Lock up behind me!”
I don’t know how long I’d been standing there when I realized that I wasn’t alone. I heard someone clear their throat, and when I looked toward the door that connected my bakery to Piper’s coffee shop and Dixie Dean’s catering business, I found Dixie standing there with a stunned look on her face.
Without thinking, I said, “You didn’t see nothin’!”
“Oh, I saw something.”
“What the hell are you doing here so early?”
“Don’t change the subject, Janis. We’re talking about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s so early in the morning that you’re not really awake yet, so your mind is playing tricks on you.”
“You just kissed Corey Forrester.”
I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose before I asked, “Is there any chance that you might keep that information to yourself, at least until I can process what the fuck just happened?”
“Oh, I saw what happened and noticed that you were kissing him back.”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“Well, I can talk about it with you, or I can call Jonas or Lawson and ask them what’s going on.”
“Neither of your brothers is awake right now.”
“They’d gladly wake up for this sort of information.”
One of the timers started buzzing in the kitchen, and I glanced toward the door before I looked back at Dixie. “This is me asking you as a friend to keep this under your hat, okay?”
Dixie nodded before she said, “I will, but I want you to know that it’s probably going to kill me.”
“ It probably won’t, but if you tell a soul, I will.”
“There it is! For a second there, I wondered if you might be right and I was having some out-of-body dream sequence or something, but now that you sound like you, I know that what I saw really did happen. You kissed Corey Forrester, and the world didn’t implode. The fact that I’m going to keep that information to myself should tell you just how much I love and respect you.”
“It’s not love and respect you’re feeling, Dixie Dean. It’s sheer terror at the thought of what I’ll do if you ever mention this to anyone.”
“You better go check your ovens, because I’m sure that scene I just witnessed isn’t the only thing hot in here.”
“Until about five minutes ago, I thought I hated everyone equally, but you’ll be glad to know that for once in your life, you’re going to take first place in something, even if it is just my shit list.”
Dixie’s laughter followed me into the kitchen, but I didn’t care. I had things to create and a bakery to run. I didn’t have the capacity to worry about what she saw or who she might tell because I needed to focus on work so I didn’t think about what just happened.
I’d think about it later. Or tomorrow. Or maybe never.
Like that was going to happen.
◆◆◆
COREY
“Shit!” Brawley Dumont, an old friend who also happened to be an officer with me at RPD, yelled as he flopped onto his back and lifted his knee up toward his chest. He was out of breath when he asked, “You got him?”
“Does it fucking look like I’ve got him?” I yelled when the man I was straddling started to squirm again. “I don’t know what I landed on when I hopped the fence, but that shit hurt.”
“Pretty sure I fucked up my knee.”
“Shit.”
Finally , Lawson and Noble came around the corner and were able to help me get the suspect cuffed and into the back of my cruiser while the paramedics checked out Brawley. When I made it over to the ambulance to get my own wounds checked out, Brawley was already strapped onto the gurney with an ice pack on his head and another on his knee.
“You look like shit, man,” Brawley said as I stopped in front of a paramedic who started assessing my wounds.
“Just get on the rig,” the woman said as she shook her head. “You obviously need stitches and God only knows what else. At this point, we’re going to have to hose you off with a power sprayer to find out.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You look like a victim in a slasher film,” she said as she nudged me closer to the ambulance. “Get inside.”
“I need to talk to my . . .”
“Get in the ambulance, Forrester,” I heard Sergeant Gonzales say from behind me. “Give me the keys to your cruiser, and I’ll have someone drive it back to the station along with Dumont’s. Hamilton and Dean followed the other ambulance to the hospital and will be staying with the suspect while he gets checked out. I’ll be up there to get a statement from each of you in just a bit.”
“Thanks, Sarge.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sergeant Gonzales asked.
“I’ve got one helluva headache, and I’m feeling a little woozy.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out.”
It sounded like he was at the end of a long tunnel when Brawley asked, “How can you tell? He’s covered in . . .”