Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Elodie
The way my conversation ended last night with Cruz hangs over me like a rain cloud on an otherwise beautiful summer day. He didn’t placate me. He didn’t brush me off. His charm was gone and he was serious. I’ve been strung tight all day and flinching at shadows.
Someone grabs my elbow and I jump.
“Sorry!” Clem rips her hand off me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s me, not you.” For all his many faults, Damon is smoother than grabbing someone.
He’ll come back, act like a customer, hang around until I reach peak discomfort, then leave, letting me subtly know that he’ll be back.
I shouldn’t be so skittish, but it’s not me I’m concerned about. “I didn’t sleep well.”
I had Cruz’s firm response to my begging playing on repeat in my head.
He gave me a kiss and went to his place, like he knew that I’d keep on him until I got that fake promise I was demanding.
It was for the best. I was too anxious from learning that Damon had confronted Cruz using the same method he’s been using on me.
What next? Dwayne starts writing Cruz letters too?
“Stressful weekend?” She crosses her arms and it crunches the pinwheel on her shirt.
I’ve got a different cupcake shirt on today and another long, loose skirt. “How’re the kids’ games?”
“Also stressful.” She flashes me a grin. “But empty right now. Seems to be a lull all around and I thought I’d come to say hi.”
“And refill the mini cookies for the kiddos?”
“For me.” She peruses my selections. “I’m loving the crossover with Foster House. The shortbread with gin-soaked raspberries is orgasmic.”
“I’ll write that on the description.”
“Your silent auction donation is up to a hundred and fifty bucks. That white chocolate cake is getting people in a choke hold.”
Cruz is probably driving up the price, and he’ll pay as much as it takes. I grin.
Clem rolls her eyes. “Your boyfriend is buying it? Ugh, that’s so sweet.”
Another wave of customers is making their way up the street. My breakfast of those very cookies curdles in my stomach. Is there a medium-height guy in the bunch who looks like he’s going to the golf course after?
If I lean over far enough, I might get a glimpse of the Foster House booth, but I’ll never see the guys through the throng of samplers. Their booth is one of the most popular, constantly surrounded by people, just like it was in Billings.
Nerves cartwheel around my stomach. That’s been happening all day.
Clem finds my container of minis and tucks it under her arm. “I should get back. Is Kinley helping out today?”
“She’s out getting a bite to eat. I traded again with the Huangs for some more sesame chicken. I wanted to stick around the booth, and they have their grandkids tomorrow and wanted some extra treats.”
Clem groans and holds her stomach. “I wish I could trade the library’s books for food.
Actually, I’m just going to head there and bring a plate back with me.
” She’s about to cut through my tables to weave between the back of the booths where most of the vendors walk, but she stops. “Are you okay? Is it just the sleep?”
Do I look like hell? I slept horribly last night without Cruz next to me.
“I’m fine.” A guy walks past, and I do a double take. He’s wearing wraparound sunglasses and has a long dark braid down his back. Nothing like Damon. Dammit. “I’ll be fine. It’s just . . . everything’s catching up with me, and I’m worried it’ll interfere with the important things.”
“Like your boyfriend?” Her light teasing hits home.
“Yes.”
It’s her turn to look surprised. “Oh, Elodie. That man is not going anywhere.”
“It’s . . .” I wave a hand in front of my face. The group of tourists is coming closer. “I’ll talk to you later.” And I will. I’ll tell her about how Damon keeps stopping by, and hell, maybe I should tell her about the blackmail. More minds can help me figure this mess out.
The next few hours fly by. We get another couple of rushes, and I sell more than singles of cupcakes and cookies.
A few people order a dozen, several that live in nearby small towns take my card, and there’s a lot of gushing about the Foster House collaboration.
Kids are happy to get in on the baked samples when they can’t sip and sample with their parents.
Best of all, my day was Damon-free. I just hope Cruz’s was too.
I don’t have much to pack up. I let Kinley go since the cleanup won’t take long. Is Cruz going to stop by again?
What will I say? We didn’t exactly part on a bad note, but it wasn’t a good one either.
I bring a folding table inside the bakery and push back out onto the sidewalk.
Damon’s standing at the corner of what’s left of my booth, his arms crossed, and an arrogant twist to his lips.
“Ugh.” I was stressed the whole day because of him and he shows up at the end, and he likely did that on purpose. Damn him! “You’re like a turd that won’t flush down.”
His anger is immediate, darkening his eyes. “Do you have my money?”
Cruz’s reassurance from last night stays with me. “Do you mean more of my money that you’re blackmailing from me?”
His shocked expression gives me a short moment of satisfaction. He looks around, and so do I. I should’ve done that before I cocked off. No one’s close enough to hear, and anyone who saw us would think he’s just a latecomer.
I prop my hands on my hips. “It’s not the end of the month.”
“Close enough.”
“Fuck off. I still have time.”
“I’d hate for someone to hear about how you used to whore yourself—”
Damon flies to the side and slams into the wall of the bakery, thankfully missing a window.
Cruz steps onto the sidewalk, his features livid and his hands balled into fists. “Shut your goddamn mouth.”
“Cruz! Stop.” I don’t know whether to run or laugh or cry. I could’ve handled Damon, but I also loved seeing him go flying.
Damon shakes his head. “What the hell—”
Cruz shoves his finger in Damon’s face, crowding him toward the buildings.
With more size and experience—and fury—than Damon, Cruz has no problem intimidating him.
“If you don’t fucking listen, you’re going through the window this time.
And then I’ll stand on top of you and make you glue every goddamn piece back together. ”
Damon backs up so far, he hits the building again. “Get out of my face.”
“Get out of my town,” Cruz says through gritted teeth.
“She owes me money,” Damon shoots back.
Dread fills me and I have the urge to sprint again.
Cruz looms in front of him. “She doesn’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
I’ve never seen him like this. All charm is gone. There’s no humor. His eyes are almost black. He’s in cowboy boots, but he stands ready to chase Damon down. His arms are out and ready, and his hands are clenching and unclenching into fists.
“Cruz.” I creep closer to him. The angry kid is now an irate adult. “Let him go.”
Damon slips out from between the wall and Cruz. Cruz pivots to make sure he’s blocking me from Damon. I scoot to the side to peer around him.
Oh hell. The sidewalk is lined with everyone who’s still here. Worse, the three Hennessy brothers and Lane are flanking Cruz. Of course this is the moment all of them are together.
Damon looks behind him and grimaces. He must’ve spotted the line of tall, dark men with menacing expressions. His mouth curls into a sneer and he pins me with a glare over Cruz’s shoulder. “The due date is soon. Don’t be late.”
Cruz steps to the side to block his glare. “Start walking, fuckface.”
“You need to stay out of this.” Damon’s menacing voice has nothing on Cruz. “She doesn’t want people to know about her criminal back—”
The punch is so fast, I jump back and gasp. The smack of Cruz’s fist against Damon’s face is louder than I could’ve ever imagined.
I dart to the side to see better. Damon’s stumbling around, trying to keep his balance. Cruz is flexing his hand.
“What the fuck!” Damon’s working his jaw around and shaking his head. A trickle of blood escapes from the corner of his mouth.
“Start walking.” Cruz’s steel tone makes a shiver whisper over my skin.
Damon spins around but spots the men glaring at him. Even the Huangs are standing guard between the booths like they’re making sure Damon can’t hide anywhere. He pivots toward me and Cruz.
“Boy, you’d better start running.” Cruz stalks toward him.
Damon takes the advice, tucking his head down and doing a lurching jog. At the last second, each of the Foster House men moves out of the way, but not enough that Damon doesn’t get jostled going through them.
Satisfaction fills me, but the ramifications are right behind it.
Cruz whips around, and he’s back to being my Cruz with a concerned blue gaze and a softness just for me. “Are you okay?” He rushes to close the distance between us, but I scurry backward.
His boots skid to a stop. “Elodie.”
I shake my head. Dismay fills me so full. My temples ache. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”
“The shit he was spewing was wrong.”
“He’s going to tell everyone,” I say in a strangled whisper. My pulse jumps and lurches. God, what a mess.
The attention of the onlookers burns into me. My skin shrinks tight while my insides expand from all the fear and anxiety. I can’t stand this. I rush into the bakery.
Cruz is on my heels all the way to the kitchen. “Look, I’m sorry—”
“Are you?” I yell and throw an arm in the air. “Are you really? I asked you not to confront him.”
“He called you a whore!”
“That’s my problem.” My hands flop down and hit my thighs. Stress is a vortex in my belly, making it clench to heave the lunch I had hours ago. “Now I’m going to have more.”
“We’ll deal with him.”
I draw in a shaky breath. He’s so sure of himself. So resolute. He doesn’t know what’s at stake. How could he? I didn’t talk to him. “He’s going to ruin my business, Cruz. This is a game to him.”
“A game you don’t need to play.”