Chapter 23 A Crazed Man
A CRAZED MAN
Wyatt
I was convinced she knew, truly and completely convinced.
It had been three days since her girls’ night with Aspen and Ivy, and while she hadn’t reached out, she hadn’t tried to run me over with her car either.
I’d gone into the bakery the last two days because I was a man with a death wish, and she hadn’t even acknowledged me beyond “Here you go, Carragan.” as she handed me my coffee and whatever delicious pastry she had just finished making.
No sassy comments or flirty smiles or even a slight blush. Nothing.
Even when I’d come over to “install” the cameras for her—and by that I meant that I appeared to be installing the ones I’d already put up before.
So, either she was mad about my flirty comment the other day, she was mad about the security cameras I’d hung up all over the place for her, or she knew.
When I’d gone over this future prospect, I believed that I’d be freaking out, but honestly, I wasn’t even nervous about it.
I hoped she did know, then I could drop this bullshit and claim her as my own.
I swore I could marry the woman just based on her pastry-baking ability, but a small, much smarter portion of my brain knew she wouldn’t find that to be a compliment. So I tried to keep it to myself.
Walking through the glass door and into the brick building, I smiled when there were only two customers here.
They were seated over at a corner table drinking coffees and eating scones—scones which I’d decided were indeed amazing.
They were probably trying to escape the cold air that had finally hit Colorado this morning, but it meant they wouldn’t need anything from Ember, and I already knew Jade was off today.
Personally, I was suddenly feeling much warmer thinking about the fact that I’d finally have the chance to talk to this woman.
“I’ll be right there!” a feminine voice hollered from the back. A voice I’d know anywhere I went nowadays—malls packed with people, busy dark clubs, you name it, I could wake up blind tomorrow and still find that voice in the midst of thousands.
It was funny to think about how quickly someone could become the center of your universe. I’d listen to her voice for hours if I could—instead, I settled for listening to it over my phone as she talked to her cat or made voice memo reminders on her phone as she worked or cleaned the bakery up.
I walked up to the counter and waited patiently, knowing I’d stand here for the next two hours I had free just to wait for her if that was what I needed to do. When she finally walked out, I found I had no words left to say. Speechless didn’t cover it.
She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a tucked-in black t-shirt that was skintight and low cut, showing off the ample swell of her breasts. She had a thin gold chain around her neck, and her light red hair was pulled up in a clip, a few pieces escaping around her face.
Light golden brown eyes met mine, and I felt myself swallow roughly as she stopped and stared at me. She came back to reality quicker than I did. Clearing her throat, she broke away from my gaze and walked up to the opposite side of the counter—a three-foot pane of glass separating us. That was it.
“Carragan, the normal?” Her voice gave away nothing, and I was so envious.
I tried to find the words to tell her, something to say, and nothing was coming to mind.
It wasn’t as if I could tell her the black lacy bra she had under that shirt looked amazing on her, but it would look even better on my floor.
I mean…maybe I could say that, but it wouldn’t go over well.
Instead of speaking, I found myself just nodding at her as I bit my tongue to keep from speaking. Intrusive thoughts were going a mile a minute as I stared her down, watching her work from up close instead of on whatever screen I was working on at that moment.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
She was facing away from me, leaving me a phenomenal view of her backside in those jeans, which was just criminal. How was a man to resist such a view? The jeans could’ve been poured onto her creamy skin, and I would’ve believed it.
“Carragan!” Her voice brought me back, my eyes darting back to hers. The look on her face, the clear irritation, told me she’d been speaking, and she of course knew now that I was staring at her ass. That surely wouldn’t work in my favor.
“I’m sorry, Brady. What was that?” Her last name tasted like ash in my mouth, but calling her Mrs. Carragan or little flame here in public wouldn’t help my case right now either.
She rolled her eyes, and I felt my fist clench as I thought about how badly I wanted to kiss the attitude right out of her, right after I spanked her ass for being such a brat. “I said, I made a batch of chocolate-filled croissants. Do you want one of those or a cinnamon roll today?”
“Oh. I’ll take one of both,” I replied quickly with a shrug. I’d take whatever pastry she wanted to give me, had I not made that clear to her yet?
A brow arched, she shook her head, and bagged up both the pastries, handing them to me over the counter top along with my coffee. “It’s convenient that you remember my coffee order.”
She stared at me before she let out a scoff. “Your order is a black coffee, Carragan. It isn’t complicated to remember.”
I handed her the cash for my order and shrugged. “Still. It’s nice.”
“Okay, well enjoy your day.” She started to walk off, and I panicked.
I wanted to talk to her. No—needed to talk to her.
It was paramount to my mental health and life’s ambitions that she speak to me.
I knew she knew it was me, and I knew it was her.
If she didn’t want to confess to that, it was fine.
I’d wait. I’d send more flowers and gifts and take her out and woo the pants off of her, literally and figuratively. But she had to speak to me.
“We should get married,” I shouted, letting the intrusive thoughts win today, evidently.
She didn’t move, she didn’t turn and look at me, nothing.
She just stood as still as a statue, and I forced my gaze to remain on the back of her head and not take a perusal of her ass again.
That had gotten me into enough trouble today.
I cleared my throat, trying to save face and come up with a plausible explanation for my comment I’d screamed in the middle of her bakery.
“What I mean to say is thank you. Your—um, pastries are so delicious I’d consider a proposal just to ensure I never have to be without your baking abilities. ”
Ember finally turned and stared at me, her brows pulled together. “Thank you, I guess?” she questioned. She didn’t sound angry, just really confused. I’d take that as a win, an improvement some would say. “Anyway, have a good day.”
This time, when she turned and walked back into her kitchen, I let out a breath and left Buns of Delight with a new plan. One that would ensure I’d have more time to say insane shit to my little flame.
She was testing me. I still wasn’t completely convinced she didn’t know who I was—her very not-so-subtle stalker—but as I watched her scroll on the Silk and Spice app, clicking on other men’s profiles, I was seeing red.
I had half the screen dedicated to her app activity, and the other half had her apartment camera’s pulled up—truly a stalker full on now.
I should be working right now, but alas, my mind had other ideas tonight.
Why was she back on the app? Why did she care about the other men on there?
I was available. I’d literally been talking to her on the damn app.
Had I canceled our last two dates? Yes, but only because I wanted to see her as us.
I wanted to be Wyatt. I wanted her to be Ember.
I wanted all of her, not just the slice she played out in secret anonymity through the app.
I’d even told her I wanted to take her to dinner.
I wanted the real and true Ember Brady.
I pulled out my phone and opened the app, my gaze checking her activity on my computer every few moments. Typing out a message, I hit send and then watched her.
ImVengecock: How was your day?
Was it creative? No. But I just needed her to remember I was here, I gave a shit. More than a shit if I was honest, but we weren’t going down that road just yet.
I watched the camera as she read it. She was staring at our messages before she shook her head and closed out of our conversation. But instead of closing the app, she went through and matched with the next six guys she saw.
Logically, I knew I had options here. I could ignore her, carry on with my plans of wooing her.
I could send more flowers, love letters, gifts of jewelry, and chocolate.
I could show up in the middle of the night and lay in bed with her until she woke up and we could make sweet, intense love.
I had it all planned out. However, I ignored the logic as I went through and blocked every single man she liked on the app.
They wouldn’t even see a message pop through because they wouldn’t have access to my girl—ever.
I smirked at the thought as I continued on my way, digitally kicking them all to the curb without her even noticing. One message did pop up, but as she opened it, I deleted his profile from the app entirely.
Julian may actually kill me for this one, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
I was a crazed man on a mission, carried forward by an in-depth love I couldn’t get away from.
I leaned back in my chair and smiled as nothing else came through for her.
Let my girl try to fuck someone else. I pulled up our message thread again and typed out another message.
ImVengecock: Nice try.
I watched her through the screen as her eyes narrowed on the message and she let out an exacerbated sigh. “Mother fucker,” she muttered.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I was so happy that I’d picked a camera with audio.