Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
“ S o I told her it’s very important to me and she said I shouldn’t come home if I spend all my money on this,” Sam, his client for the day, continued. Oakley had tuned out a while ago, because it was always the same thing with Sam. He was addicted to weird, kitschy tattoos and his wife hated them. So whenever Sam was on his table, he whined about his ‘unsupportive’ wife. Oakley thought the man should have been grateful that he had someone who cared. Someone who tried to stop him from getting the strangest shit inked into his skin.
In the five weeks he’d been working at A Fine Needle, Sam had come in five times. Every time the tattoo was wilder and more entertaining. He’d inked a kitten-puppy combo of sorts the first time, then a dick with roses wrapped around it and that day he was working on a smiling alligator wearing a bowler hat and the top half of a tuxedo. For the most part, he had no issue tattooing odd things on people, but he’d tried to change Sam’s mind about the rose-covered dick and failed. Now, he did what Sam wanted.
The other reason he wasn’t listening was because his mind was filled with thoughts of Clementine. He knew that her turning him down was a sign that he needed to let it go. Except, every time he tried to move forward, he’d take two steps back. It had been a week since their conversation and her emphatic no , and he was still thinking about her. About the shape of her mouth when it twitched as she fought back a smile. About the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her favorite kind of coffee. Hell, he was also thinking about the coffee she served him. He’d been tempted to do some research about it, but knew once he fell down that hole, he’d never recover. Especially since he was still reeling from googling her and all the things he found.
He needed to recover from the Clementine Effect first.
It had been a long time since someone had taken up so much space in his brain and his day. Jasper had been his last relationship and Oakley had walked away from that bruised and hurting. He knew what it felt like to be so enamored by someone. Everything else ceased to matter. As someone who didn’t usually believe in attraction at first sight, he was a little worried about how quickly Clementine had snuck her way into his life.
He’d seen her three times before she’d noticed him—three times that he’d witnessed different emotions in one person and liked all of them. He also rarely got tongue tied and awkward around people, but she had rendered him useless when she walked over that first day. She’d done something nobody else had ever done, and that was probably why she was all he thought about.
Was it silly to be focusing on a woman who wanted nothing to do with him? Probably. Oakley had met people who took a long time to warm up to him. Whether it was because of his sunny disposition, arm full of tattoos or because he was far more laid back than most was still unclear. He’d never had someone refuse to be his friend so blatantly. It hurt.
Even now, when he swung by Pretty Baked every morning for his sugar hit, he hoped to see her. But she never surfaced, instead Luna would smile apologetically as she slid the box of donuts over the counter. He was itching to ask if she was around, but knew better. After all, she’d told him in one word that she wasn’t interested and he was respectful enough to not push his luck. It was ridiculous that he missed seeing that scowl and those beautiful eyes framed by perfectly shaped eyebrows.
I really need to find a hobby.
Filling up the last bit of the alligator’s tail, he turned his tattoo machine off and straightened up. He rubbed a fist over his chest, soothing the ache that fluttered in his heart. How could one person make him feel so much and have it hurt all at the same time? Yes, he was a romantic, but this reaction was idiotic.
“You good, man?” Sam asked, shooting him a worried look.
“Yup.” He nodded and adjusted his glasses, then nodded at the tattoo. “Have a look.”
Sam rolled off the table and stepped in front of the mirror to examine his new ink. Oakley smiled as he grabbed the basket of cleaning supplies. Sam turned to him with a wide grin and Oakley went through the process of wiping and cleaning up the tattoo, before wrapping it up.
He peeled off his gloves and pushed his glasses up his nose again as he said, “You know the drill, Sam. And swing by if you think it needs a touch up.”
“Thanks, man. You do some really good work.”
He chuckled at the compliment, because all he had to do was bring wacky thoughts to life. Walking out to the front to process the payment, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure in front of the wall of sketches and photographs. Sam was speaking, but he wasn’t listening. Because standing before him was the reason he’d been distracted all week.
“Why don’t you make an appointment and I’ll see you next week,” he said, forcing his eyes away from the brunette for a brief moment.
Once his client was occupied, he turned to look at her. She wasn’t in her usual pastel coat, but this outfit was definitely melting his brain—dark leggings that showed off the shape of her strong legs were tucked into well-worn ankle boots with a short heel and matched with a large black and white flannel. It took everything in him to not go over to make sure she was real.
“I take it from the stupid look on your face, that’s her ,” Auburn mumbled from behind him and he chuckled. The sound got Clementine’s attention and she turned to face him, stopping his heart for a moment. Fuck me, she’s so beautiful. He saw the familiar brown box in her hands and blushed at the realization that he was blatantly checking her out.
“I don’t mean to ambush you at work, but uh…I wanted to um…” she started, cleared her throat and shifted on her feet.
He could see how uncomfortable she was with everyone watching, so he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Step into my office?”
She nodded and followed as he led the way to his work space. Once the curtain was drawn, blocking out the rest of the shop, he pushed his rolling stool for her to sit and smiled.
“Hi,” he said.
She huffed out a laugh, the action transforming her face and he clenched his fists to stop from grabbing his heart. If she was beautiful when scowling and annoyed, she was breathtaking when she laughed. But almost like she knew she was doing something different with her face, Clementine straightened her expression and sat down.
“I wanted to apologize,” she started and held out the box of goodies. “And bring you this. Special delivery.”
He took the box and flipped it open to find six cupcakes with different colored frosting. “I’m guessing apology cupcakes are better than apology donuts.”
“Well, you wiped out our donut offerings today, so you’re getting the next best thing.”
“You think donuts are superior to everything else too?”
She rolled her eyes, but he saw a hint of her smile. “I believe dessert is superior to everything else in the world.”
He laughed and picked up a purple cupcake, peeling off the paper before twisting it around to see how best to eat it. He’d never eaten cupcakes in front of someone before and he definitely didn’t want Clementine to see what kind of an animal he was when it came to baked goods. But before he could take a bite, the cupcake vanished from his hands. He watched as she broke the bottom half off and pressed it over the frosting and held it back to him. He smiled and her eyes widened as she returned to the stool.
“Sorry, I should have asked before touching your food with my bare hands.”
He shook his head and examined what she’d done. “You baked it, you can touch it however you want.”
Pressing her lips together, she looked away and he realized how that statement sounded. Instead of correcting himself, he took a bite of the cupcake and groaned at the moistness and the flavors exploding in his mouth. He inhaled the whole thing in one breath then grabbed a tissue from his workstation and wiped his hands.
“Do you teach everyone how to eat a cupcake?”
Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s a method I saw somewhere online a few years ago and it’s how I always eat my cupcakes.”
“Why not sell them that way? Frosting sandwiched between two pieces of cake.”
“The whole selling point of the cupcakes is how pretty they look, if you take that way, it’ll be two slices of cake with frosting in the middle.”
He smiled as she talked with her hands. When she noticed him watching her, she huffed and pressed her hands between her thighs. Her eyes stayed on him, drifting to his mouth briefly and he held his breath. After a long moment, she reached out and brushed her thumb against the side of his lips, pulling her finger away with frosting attached. His body hummed in response and it took everything in Oakley to not lean in for more.
“Fuck, sorry ,” she breathed, not meeting his eyes. “Spent the day with my best friend’s kid and Indigo is the messiest child you’ll ever meet.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Thank you.” His heart was racing so fast that if she touched him again, even accidentally, he might combust. Handing her a fresh tissue, he closed the box of cupcakes so he wouldn’t be tempted to get frosting all over his mouth again.
“But that is why I’m here, to apologize.”
“Right, of course. What are you apologizing for?”
She sighed, twisting the tissue around in her hands. “For the way I behaved that day when you came by the shop. I didn’t mean to be rude or make it seem like I was rejecting your friendship. I don’t always say what I mean and it comes out wrong.”
“What did you mean to say?” he asked, keeping his voice level and soft. He didn’t want to scare her off yet, he wanted to be able to soak up the vanilla fragrance that floated around her. Oakley knew that he had come on a little strong that day and he wasn’t going to do that again. Not when she’d been clear about what she didn’t want.
“I don’t date,” she said, eyes darting to his for a moment. “Besides not having the time between running the shop and trying to stay alive like every other millennial in existence, I struggle to connect with people I don’t already know. That’s not to say I’m dating any of my friends,” she added with an awkward laugh. “Some would even say I avoid dating, so I don’t get hurt.”
“Dating is, quite honestly, a pain in the ass. So I get it.”
She looked up at him and Oakley wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. Instead she offered him a small smile. It was so tiny, if he wasn’t paying such close attention, he would have completely missed it. Watching her so intently was also the only reason he saw the way she stared at his tattooed arm, eyes moving over every detail inked into his skin.
“Why tattoos?” she asked, voice soft almost like she was scared to ask the question.
“I always saw it as a form to express myself without having to speak, you know?” He pushed up the folded sleeve of his button down, showing off the lion surrounded by flowers. “They’re also ways to honor the people I love. The lion is for my sister, Leonora. The lilies are for my mom and grandmother, it was their favorite flower,” he said. He traced the lion, then twisted his arm to show her the lilies that covered his entire arm. Above his elbow, on the inside of his arm, was a compass. He tapped it and said, “This is for my father, the original West. He always believed that if I looked to the west, I’d find what I was searching for.”
Swallowing hard, he hoped that she wouldn’t ask anymore questions about his family. Losing them had been hard, talking about it was even harder. Exhaling loudly through his nose, Oakley looked up to find her watching him curiously.
She pointed at the other ink. “What about those?”
Chuckling and grateful that she wasn’t digging deeper, Oakley twisted his arm to show her the rest of his tattoos. On the outside of his forearm was the three line chevron. “For my grandfather. I never met him, but he was in the military and I wanted to honor him in a small way.” He had a surfboard on his bicep for the one thing that he’d been so passionate about before he’d walked away forever. Rubbing his thumb over the sobriety tattoo he’d gotten right after rehab, he twisted his arm to show her the hand drawn ones. “I worked at a friend’s shop back home and he’d sometimes invite kids from the neighborhood for art workshops. They were mostly at-risk kids, so we gave them something safe to do for a few hours. This little girl, cute as shit, used a Sharpie and drew all over me. Whatever I couldn’t wash off, I got tattooed.”
A wobbly smiling emoji, a lopsided dog and mountains with the sun peeking through were the ones that had stuck. It was a good reminder of his California life and the people that made him who he was.
“You’re a softie.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing,” he teased and Clementine rolled her eyes. “Do you have any tattoos?”
Shaking her head, she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt to show him bare arms. Well, bare except for cuts, welts and scars. Oakley frowned at the marks and discolored bits of skin, which then made her push her sleeves down awkwardly.
“The life of a baker is to have a minimum of a hundred burn marks on your skin. But I do want to get a tattoo or three, I haven’t figured out what yet.”
“Cupcakes, donuts, cakes, literally everything you bake.”
A laugh burst out of her and she caught herself quickly, pressing her lips together as she shook her head. “Maybe one day.”
He nodded, wondering what it would take for Clementine to make eye contact with him again. What would it take for her to give him a few more minutes of her time. He loved this moment they had shared, but it wasn’t enough. However, she was still calling the shots and he would uphold her request.
“I should go, head back before my staff burn the bakery to the ground.”
They stood up at the same time and it put them inches away from each other. He’d always known she was tall, but only when standing this close did he realize that she was only a few inches shorter than him. He dipped his head slightly to properly look into her eyes and smiled when a blush crept across her cheekbones. With her delicious scent filling his nostrils, Oakley took a small step back and pulled the curtain open.
Clementine stepped out before turning to look at him. “Is the offer to be friends still on the table?”
“Always,” he responded without even thinking.
“How about being your food guide?”
“Most definitely.”
“Great.” She nodded, smoothing down her clothes as she backed away. “Come by the shop sometime next week and we’ll make a plan.”
He grinned, unable to contain his excitement at the thought of spending more time with his woman. “I can’t wait.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted a hand in a wave. “Enjoy the cupcakes, Oakley.”
“Thanks for coming by, Clementine.”
And then she was gone, leaving a trail of her edible scent and he closed his eyes, inhaling all of it. He heard the curtains in the other workstations slide open and when he glanced to the side, Fox and Carin were watching him with matching smiles.
“Ten bucks says he’s going to fall in love with her in a week,” Fox said.
Carin rolled their eyes. “Twenty says he’s going to marry her in a year.”
Oakley snorted at them. “You two are ridiculous.”
Because I might already be in love with her .