Chapter Twelve
August flicked the light on in the storage room of Sugar Blitz’s soon-to-be newest location. Damn, what had he come in here for? His concentration had been shit since that conversation with Sloane yesterday afternoon.
He’d planned to apologize for hurting her, for never acknowledging that she hadn’t been alone in her feelings back then. But she’d spoken first…
August rubbed the back of his neck. He got why she wanted to leave the past in the past. Why rehash a painful period in your life when you didn’t have to? Acknowledging it at all made him admire her even more. So he’d decided to honor her wishes and swallow his apology.
Besides, she no longer loved him. Hell, if she ever had. They’d been teenagers. What the hell did teens know about love? After all, teens were known for living in the moment and feeling everything, no matter how minor, so intensely. And it’s not like she’d stayed locked in her room and pined after him after the incident. Over the years, she’d dated Jim, James, Paul, and Tyrone, or whatever the fuck their names were. Shit, he didn’t know. He hadn’t kept track of her relationships because he tried his best not to be a creep, and why torture himself like that, but Donovan had mentioned boyfriends here and there over the years, and he’d been to enough Dell gatherings over the years to even meet a date or two.
But it didn’t matter now. She didn’t want him. He’d had his chance, and he’d blown it. He was never great verbally, especially when caught off guard, but it didn’t matter. He’d hurt her. And she’d moved on, as she should have. So he needed to buck up and act like the grown-up he was. Respect their deal and play his part, even if lingering doubts had kept him up for half the night.
But he was stepping out of his comfort zone. Seizing the day.
August blinked. Shit.
What other clichés could he spew?
August’s shoulders relaxed as a burst of laughter bubbled up from his chest. He focused on the box he’d come in here for, grabbed it, and headed to the front of the store.
A quick, brisk knock sounded on the door. His shoulders tensed up. None of that mattered, starting now.
He deposited the box on the floor against a wall, then strode to the entrance and unlocked the door. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Sloane strode confidently past him like she hadn’t spent the night reciting all the defensive schemes in the Knights playbook as sleep eluded her. Not that he’d done that or anything.
She looked terrific, per usual. She wore hip-hugging jeans and a plain white T-shirt that looked anything but as it clung to her full breasts. Worse—and why was there always a worse?—she’d tied the ends of the shirt at her waist. Which meant he was being tortured with teasing glimpses of her abdomen’s smooth brown skin. Yep, that was enough of that. He raised his gaze. Her braids were caught up in a high ponytail, drawing attention to the long, lickable column of her neck.
Shit. How was this supposed to work?
Yesterday, after agreeing to leave the past in the past, they’d decided to meet this morning to start on their social media campaign. And obviously that was a terrible idea. But he wasn’t a quitter.
Sloane turned to inspect the space, thankfully none the wiser about his NSFW thoughts, which was a good thing because they were, in fact, at work. He was here to whip this place into shape before its grand opening.
Which meant he needed to keep his eye on the prize. August silently groaned. Good Lord. The clichés were coming fast and furious this morning.
With her back still to him, Sloane propped her hands on her back, drawing his eyes to her ass. Pure perfection.
He sighed. FML . It was going to be a long day. Week. Weeks? Speaking of—“How long are you planning on working on this campaign?”
His voice came out gruff, damn near unfriendly. Or so he’d been told before.
She whirled to face him, one eyebrow lifting to mock him, clearly not intimidated. “Good morning to you, too, August. Trying to get rid of me already?”
Trying to save my sanity . “No. I’d like to know how much time we have to work our magic. Are you going balls to the wall or do you plan on taking a more leisurely approach?”
She sauntered closer, her alluring hips swaying side to side. He ordered himself not to back up. He was a grown-up and could handle one woman who sent his senses racing every time he was within fifteen feet of her.
Her lips curved. “I always go balls to the wall. Our goal is to boost Sugar Blitz’s profile, and we do that by capitalizing on your current popularity and making you a social media star.”
Whoa . He held up a hand. “I’ve been thinking about that…”
Sloane’s head cocked to the side. “And?”
He’d practiced this in the mirror this morning while he shaved. He could get through it. “I want Sugar Blitz to be a social media star, and if I have to throw myself out there a little to make that happen, then so be it, but I don’t want to be front and center.”
Sloane’s eyes widened as her index finger lifted in an aha gesture. “I knew it! I knew you didn’t want to do this. Why did you agree in the first place?” Her expression softened with concern. “Are you okay?”
He hadn’t prepared for that. “Because.”
She peered deep into his eyes, silently pleading with him for more. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to admit that his insecurities along with his general shyness and anxiousness had woken him up in the middle of the night. Not to her or anyone. Hell, barely to himself.
When he remained silent, she nodded. Sloane went into motion, pacing back and forth, her head down, deep in thought. She stopped in front of him and lifted her head. “Okay. No one wants to force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.” She bit her lip. “We won’t do the campaign.”
Both his hands flew up. Shit. He was not handling this right at all. “Wait. That’s not what I said. I want to do a campaign.”
“You do?”
This he could answer.
“Yes. Look.” He spread his arms wide. “We’ve poured a lot of money into renovating this space with no guarantee people in this neighborhood give two shits about cupcakes. Still, we agree it’s a worthy risk, so if you can help us build awareness for this location and the business in general before we open, that would be great.”
Sloane went back into motion, circling the room, deep in thought, until she ended up in front of him again. “And you’ll…”
“Be here as needed.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’m in.” Her lips, covered in a plum-colored gloss, lifted. “Again. We’ll figure it out. Let’s get started, shall we? Want to show me around?”
Yes. Right after he got his fill of staring at her luscious mouth. No. That was the wrong answer.
“August?”
He started. “Yes, sorry. I was just thinking about all the stuff I have to get done before we open.”
She nodded, looking around at the piles of stuff in the room. “Makes sense.”
Who said he couldn’t pull a credible lie out of his ass when the occasion called for it?
Sloane ran an appraising eye over the room again. “This place is different from the original.”
Sugar Blitz Two wasn’t located in downtown San Diego. It had a smaller footprint. While the building that housed the original location had a modern feel to it, this building hadn’t seen much refurbishing since the ’80s, if then.
He’d fallen in love with the space the moment the real estate agent drove up to the place. Its potential was obvious. The big open windows that let in sunlight and unencumbered views to any passersby who might be tempted to give in to impulse and stop in for a cupcake. Brick archways, wainscoting on the walls. All architectural details his mother had loved.
He shrugged. “I know, but different is good.”
Enthusiasm shone in her eyes. “Agreed. Each location should have its own personality. Even though y’all are about to be a franchise, that doesn’t mean you can’t expand your brand, so to speak. The buildings can be different, as long as the cupcakes remain the same.”
August’s lips quirked. “Nicholas would throw a fit if quality suffers.”
“My brother too. Are y’all planning on hiring other bakers?”
“Yes, all of that is in the works. They must meet Nicholas’s very stringent qualifications first. We’ve narrowed the pool down to three.”
Sloane nodded. “What do you plan on working on in here? As far as my untrained eye can see, a lot of the major work has been done, but not everything.”
“Hanging up sconces, painting, a little electric work.” He pointed to a stack of boxes leaning against a wall. “Putting together the tables and chairs we ordered.”
“Light work, huh?” She threw a soft smile his way. His heartbeat stuttered for a second. Apparently, teenage crushes weren’t so easily dismissed.
Her brow creased in confusion. “Why are you doing all this yourself, instead of…?”
His lips quirked. “Instead of hiring someone else to do it?”
“Yeah.”
“Because I like it. I spent a lot of time with my grandfather growing up. He did carpentry and handiwork. He would take me with him on his projects sometimes.”
Her eyes softened with understanding. One day he’d stop noticing how her emotions always showed in her expressive eyes.
“I love that you two had something you could bond over,” she said.
August agreed. Pops wasn’t a man to show affection with words. He showed he cared with his actions, taking August under his wing. “Yeah, he was the best. Let me show you around.”
He led the way down the hall, showing her the three small offices he and his partners had all agreed were necessary. They could each have their own space to retreat to the next time they unintentionally went viral. After that, short stops at the supply closet and bathrooms followed. The last stop was the most important. He pushed the door open and flicked the light on. Her soft gasp sent a frisson of pleasure sweeping through him. He might not be as business savvy as Donovan or a culinary genius like Nicholas, but he cared about and took as much pride in their endeavors as they did.
The kitchen was top notch. Like they had at the first location, they’d spared no expense in the room where the magic happened. High-tech, expensive equipment. Quartz countertops. A large stainless steel industrial refrigerator. All-new racks and baking equipment. Donovan had gotten them the best deal he could on the equipment, but they’d still spent a pretty penny on it all.
Which meant they needed to make this location a success, and he needed to play his part to make it happen. Whatever it took.
“Okay, yes, this is amazing,” Sloane said. “Y’all did the damn thing in here.” She took her phone out of her ginormous purse and snapped a few photos. Then, she damn near blinded him with the flash of the camera.
Blinking, he held up his hands and edged his way to the left, hopefully out of the frame. “What are you doing?”
She lowered the phone and shot him a look. “Well, I was taking photos of the co-owner, who I noticed was obviously proud of his hard work. But now that look of pride has been replaced with a scowl, which I don’t think is the right message to send to Sugar Blitz’s social media followers.”
Oh. August pushed his lips upward.
Her head cocked to the side, her nose scrunching up. “Is that supposed to be a smile? It’s giving Beast when Lumiere, Mrs. Potts, and Cogsworth decided he needed to woo Belle and told him to stop scowling.”
Oh, great. Now she was comparing him to a cartoon character. Is that how she saw him? As grumpy and stubborn? Set in his ways? Brooding? And wasn’t it true? Shit. He didn’t have time for introspections that were going nowhere.
His faux smile faded. “I wasn’t prepared.”
“Oh, I know,” she shot back.
His lips tugged upward, a little more naturally this time. Sloane with the dagger always.
“Candids are better than posed photos, though we’ll want some of those as well,” she continued.
“We do?”
“You’re the one doing the renovations, so yeah. By default, you have to be in the photos. You’re the one everyone wants to see. You’re SugarBae.”
He groaned. “Not you too.”
Her eyes twinkled. “What? SugarBae.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s so accurate.”
Now she was laughing at him again. Somehow, he could still hear the snickers even though she covered her mouth with her hand. She dropped her hand and rolled her lips inward when she noticed his expression. She held up a hand. “Sorry. I’m going to stop laughing.” A giggle escaped. “I promise. Seriously though, what’s the issue with me taking some photos of you doing your thing? You’re the one who said you’d be here to participate as needed. And need I remind you, you did go on Good Morning, San Diego .”
“And as you so eloquently expressed, it was a complete disaster.”
Sloane moved to stand directly in front of him. Close enough to touch. Close enough to reach out to the tie at her waist and tug her toward him for a kiss. Another kiss . Okay, yeah, no, he wasn’t going to think about the past. Focus, August .
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t a complete disaster.”
“Just three-fourths of a disaster?”
“Well… yeah.” They shared another smile. Her plum-colored lips drew his attention yet again. Would her lips taste like the fruit?
Sloane sighed. “I shouldn’t have laughed at you. I apologize. You’re new to this and this isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. But that’s why I’m here. I’m here to help, and I’m happy to be here.”
Her hand fell away, and she took a step backward. He took a step forward, drawn to her like a moth addicted to fire. She didn’t step away.
“Are you? Happy to be here?” He peered into her eyes. There, the truth lay. Always.
“Yes. Yes, I want the job with SDT, but I’m happy to help you reach your goals. You know I love Sugar Blitz. The only reason I haven’t taken my brother up on his offer is I—”
“—don’t want to ride his coattails,” he finished for her. “I remember.”
His eyes greedily tracked the movement of her lips as they parted slightly as she exhaled. “Yes. You always listened and remembered.”
Yes, he had. And she’d done the same for him. As much as they’d avoided each other over the years, how easily they slipped into their old routine.
She stepped away. “But that was a long time ago.”
In other words, back up.
“Right. Let’s get to work.” Work never let him down. Seeing the fruit of his labor bloom. Much better than dealing with messy emotions. He turned on his heel and headed for the front of the store. That didn’t stop him from cataloging her every movement as she hurried to catch up with him.
His salvation lay in the boxes stacked against the wall. After grabbing a box cutter off an already-assembled table, he pulled one of the boxes toward him and sliced through the cardboard. He did his damnedest to ignore the click of the phone. This is what he’d signed up for. What he lobbied for. Just because he hadn’t actually thought it through meant nothing. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone on Good Day, San Diego if he’d known that would lead directly to working with Sloane. Or hell, maybe he would have done the show even sooner.
When it came to Sloane Dell, he never knew which way was up.
Her chuckle interrupted his twisting thoughts. His gaze shot to her. She was grinning at her phone. At the photos she’d taken of him? He was frowning. He could feel himself frowning. He couldn’t help it.
“What’s so funny?”
“You look so fierce even though this is the most routine task ever. Your fans are going to eat it up with a spoon.”
He grunted. She laughed harder. The movement caused her shirt to ride up, torturing him with more, extended glimpses of her smooth skin. Would it be as soft as it looked? Taste as good as it looked?
He shook his head, like that mundane action stood a chance in hell of ridding his brain of those incendiary thoughts. “Come here.”
Her laughter halted. “Why?”
“If you’re going to be here, you’re going to help.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I signed up for.”
“If you’re here, you work. Those are the rules.”
“Says who?”
He grinned. He couldn’t help himself. “Your brother.”
His smile widened when she groaned. That was the “contract” Donovan had made them all agree to when they were in the process of opening the first location. She and Shana, her sister, had shown up one day to suss out the scene. Donovan, in work mode, had given them tasks and his mantra for being in the store prior to the grand opening.
He watched as her brain tried to come up with a rebuttal. Her chin lifted as she settled on a response. “I’m here to take pictures.”
She might as well have added “so there.”
“You’ve taken a million of me opening boxes already.” When she opened her mouth, he added, “You can get back to it when we move on to the next task.”
She grumbled under her breath. Something about “know-it-all reading my mind.”
“Thank you.” His grin spread. “The rules still apply.”
Her scowl deepened. “Fine, okay.”
“That’s the Sugar Blitz team spirit we like to see.”
They shared a smile that sent curls of warmth cascading through his body. Dangerous territory, but one he did nothing to stay away from. He’d done that for the past twelve years, and the ache had never fully dissipated. What was a little more pain now that she was here to follow him for the next few weeks?
She held the box while he pulled the tabletop and legs out. He opened his toolbox and took out the needed equipment to assemble the table.
“Now you’re bringing out the power tools? TikTok is going to get the vapors.”
August shot her a look.
She grinned harder. “And that expression is only going to stoke the flames. Folks love a grumbly hero.”
Now it was his turn to mutter to himself. Why had he thought this was a good idea? This was the last time he let his father and ex-wife influence anything he did.
“Yes, keep that up. It’s perfect.” She’d grabbed her phone and started snapping again.
He growled louder. She laughed.
August rolled his eyes. “Time to make yourself useful. Can you hold the leg while I screw it on?”
Could he handle the task by himself? Yes. Was he a glutton for punishment? Absolutely.
But it was nice to have someone else there to share in the joy and pain and annoyance when the holes didn’t line up perfectly as he muttered to himself about shitty craftsmanship.
By design, he lived a fairly solitary life. Had come to rely on and prefer that state of affairs. Relying on others, expecting more from them, was fool’s gold. Very few broke through that wall. His ex-wife who he’d known since childhood, Donovan, and Nicholas. And once upon a time, Sloane.
He and Donovan had become fast friends as freshmen, teammates and roommates in college, trying to prove themselves to coaches who were more comfortable with upperclassmen who already knew what was expected of them.
He’d damn near collapsed in relief when he and Donovan had been drafted to the same team. Then, the next year, Nicholas had been drafted by the Knights, and basically glued himself to August’s side. As a running back, Nicholas had said he wanted to become simpatico with August, the fullback who led the way for him on the football field.
He’d forgotten what sharing that kind of camaraderie felt like with a woman he cared about. He could admit that. He cared about Sloane. He always had. He was just having a hard time remembering why they could only enter and stay in the friend zone.
They put together five tables before taking a break. He retrieved a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator and handed her one. He tried not to notice the long, smooth column of her throat as she swallowed. He failed. He barely stifled a groan when she licked away a drop of liquid that had caught on her bottom lip. He was definitely being punished for some long-forgotten sin.
She wiped some sweat off her brow. “Why aren’t Donovan and Nicholas here to help with this manual labor?”
“They have enough things to do to keep them busy at SB1, not to mention the hiring and dotting of i’ s and crossing of t’ s with various contracts with this location. We agreed I’d take lead on these renovations. I enjoy it. Them, not so much. They help out as needed.”
Her tempting lips lifted. “And you get to be alone.” She tipped her bottle toward him. “Well, until I showed up.”
He wasn’t the only one who could claim to know the other well. He shrugged.
He could never forget that. They’d revealed so many secrets and innermost thoughts during those conversations he’d told himself were innocent. A shadow crossed her face like she too remembered. Were they fond memories or did she regret revealing so much of herself back then? They hadn’t been this close alone for this long in years by mutual, tacit agreement.
He had to defuse the situation somehow. “Well, you always were a spoiled brat.”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise, like he expected. Her infectious laugh followed like he hoped. Then she pushed him. That he hadn’t been expecting. Her palm landed on his bare arm right under where the sleeve ended. He felt like he’d been electrocuted.
She snatched her hand away. “Sorry.”
Before he knew it, he was reaching for her as she stepped away. He clasped her hand and halted her retreat.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
She didn’t answer. She stared down at where their hands were clasped. He did the same. He should let her go. Pretend this moment meant nothing. Instead, he turned her hand over and traced a line in her palm as a corresponding heat traveled through his body. “Sloane.”
Finally, she looked up. Her eyes devastated him. Guileless. Rich, honey brown. Memories swamped him. Whatever he’d been about to say deserted him in a rush.
Somehow, they were standing closer together, only a whisper separating their bodies. He raised her hand to his chest, where his heart was racing. He needed her to feel how she affected him. How she always had.
“August,” she whispered, longing and need coursing through the two syllables.
Her lips were so close. So tempting. So necessary for him to taste. His eyes drifted shut as he lowered his head.
“What’s going on here?” a voice boomed from behind them.