Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
O akley had gone to sleep the night before in a really good mood. He’d had a breakthrough with Clementine, or so he liked to think. He might have said that he liked the pastel ones, but the gray coat made all his favorite things about her stand out—her dark eyes, her soft pink lips, the golden strands in her dark hair. It was worth the time he’d spent that week coming up with flavors for donuts. He’d asked everyone at the shop for ideas too. But when he was standing in front of her, ready to list it all out, his heart teetered. She had this weird kind of effect on him and he didn’t know how to process it.
Sure, she was attractive and prickly, two things he liked about people; Oakley didn’t trust the overly happy and bubbly ones as far as he could throw them. There was this underlying magic that he sometimes felt sizzling between them when they stood too close. Plus, he was slowly working his way under her skin and getting her to smile.
He considered that a win.
Especially now that he was making a list of her smiles.
So the dirty dream shouldn’t have surprised him.
Dream Clementine was sitting on a stainless steel counter, completely naked, except for frosting covering her nipples and the space between her thighs. Her legs were spread wide and she was dipping her fingers into the buttercream and sliding the digit into her mouth slowly and seductively. Her hair was loose and ruffled, like someone had been dragging their fingers through it. At first he thought he was a spectator, but then she hooked a finger and called him forward.
They’d fucked on the counter, icing spreading from her body to his. Then moved to the floor, where she put more frosting on him and licked it off slower than was necessary. The whole time, he was captivated by her beautiful body, the way her soft skin moved as she did. When they had the most epic orgasm, Oakley woke himself up with a loud gasp and found that he was naked and alone in his bed, hand wrapped around his dick, sweat beading across his body.
Holy fuck.
While he liked sex as much as the next person, there were dark parts of his life that now made enjoying sex a little more complicated. In high school, he’d dated a girl who liked him for his surfer fame and dumped him when he quit. There was Jasper, who was probably the shortest relationship of his life. And like a lot of people his age, Oakley indulged in casual sex with random strangers. It had been a few years since he’d been with anyone emotionally or sexually, and while he hadn’t missed it, he had to wonder if dreaming of sex with a friend meant something.
He hadn’t come to Wildes with the hopes of tripping into feelings. Then Clementine Kinney appeared in his line of sight and there was no going back.
“Okay, no more dirty dreams about a woman that only wants to be your friend,” he muttered as he got out of bed.
Even though he had the morning off, there were a million things he needed to do. First, a virtual session with Kristof and then working on sketches for a new client. Once he was ready, he walked out of his bedroom as a ball of golden fur came charging at him. He dropped to the floor with a laugh as his tiny Maltipoo crashed into his stomach.
“Good morning, Gracie,” he said and ruffled his dog’s fur. She nuzzled into him and then dropped out of his arms, running in circles between his spread legs.
Kristof was the one that recommended he adopt an animal, someone to keep him company when he felt like he was spinning out of control. Oakley had been hesitant, because he didn’t think that he could take care of something else when he was still figuring out how to take care of himself. He’d walked into a shelter in San Clemente and the first dog he met was Gracie. She’d been so tiny and her dark eyes were barely visible through her golden fur, but he fell in love.
Over the years, as he traveled around the country and explored what each city had to offer, Gracie had accompanied him. She loved the adventure as much as he did, she enjoyed the noise and meeting new people. He was glad for it, because he couldn’t imagine his life without Gracie anymore. A mix between a Maltese and a Poodle, his little furball was the best thing he’d ever done. She did calm him, always showing up when he was spiraling. Plus, she was a good cuddle buddy.
As he started the coffee machine, Gracie did her morning inspection around the apartment. Once she was satisfied with everything, she came back to the kitchen for her breakfast. He filled her bowls, poured himself a coffee and with his laptop in hand, stepped out onto his balcony to call Kristof.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Oakley chuckled at his therapist’s positivity. “Never ceases to amaze me how cheery you are before the sun even rises.”
“It helps that I never sleep, so my good mood carries from one day to the other.”
Taking a sip of his coffee, he leaned back in his chair, laptop resting on his knees. Oakley had met Kristof through his sponsor, Mia, eight years ago. After a couple of stints in rehab and finally getting his life on track, he’d gone to an NA meeting in San Clemente. At the end of a meeting, Mia approached him about being his sponsor. She helped him through the twelve steps, but also suggested that he meet with a therapist. Clearly, he had a lot to unpack with losing his parents, the substance abuse and everything that followed in those dark days.
Kristof was on a list of people who worked with those in AA or NA and after one session, Oakley knew that he’d found the right person. While Mia saved him from falling off the wagon multiple times, Kristof was the one that saved his life. They’d been working together ever since and the only reason he’d made it this far was because of his therapist.
“How’s the small town life?” Kristof asked, lifting his own cup of coffee for a sip.
“Pretty fucking good. Still loving the job and made some friends.”
“Tell me about these friends.”
“The couple that invited me to their Christmas party introduced me to their group of friends.”
“And who are they?” He sipped on his coffee as a delay tactic, which Kristof clearly saw and narrowed his eyes. “Are they really friends or acquaintances?”
“Some are friends. I think.”
Clementine was certainly a friend. Everleigh could be considered a friend, right? She’d come by the other day full of beans and asked if he could design a couple of tattoos for her and Lachlan. While Oakley would always be terrified of her tattooed boyfriend, he had to admit that he was quite fond of the redhead spitfire.
At Kristof’s arched eyebrow, he sighed heavily. “There’s this woman. Clementine.”
“From San Clemente to Clementine, you’ve got a type, kid.”
Oakley chuckled, because it was only then that he made the connection. He wasn’t one for signs, but maybe that’s what this was. “She’s a baker. Makes the best donuts I’ve ever eaten. She’s really incredible.”
“Is she a fixation or something more?”
Every time Oakley found something new to focus on, Kristof asked him that question. It was a good question, because addicts were warned that they’d find something new to latch onto. But it had been years since he’d slipped and he honestly didn’t think of Clementine as an addiction. Tilting his head, he considered his response, because he didn’t want to sound like he was making excuses.
“Something more, I think. I like her. She keeps me on my toes and doesn’t take any shit. And she’s the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.”
“The most beautiful?”
He smiled, scooping Gracie onto his lap. “There’s something about her, you know? I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“Are you in love with her?” Kristof asked, curiosity written on his face.
Now was when Oakley could lie, but there was no point. He didn’t know if it was love , but it was something. He shrugged, like that was enough of an answer, but Kristof frowned at his non-response.
“No, but she makes me feel things.”
His therapist nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. “When that changes, I want you to stop and think. And call me. I want you to be happy, kid, but not at the expense of something happening to you. Okay?”
“I’m good, Kris. I appreciate the check-in. Next week, same time?”
“Let’s do a longer session next week.”
After rounds of bye s, which included Gracie attempting to lick Kristof’s face through the laptop screen, he sat back and closed his eyes. Clementine appeared in his mind again, but this time, she was sitting beside him, playing with Gracie while they enjoyed a quiet morning together. Maybe Kristof was right to be concerned, but she wasn’t a fixation. Clementine wasn’t replacing an addiction he’d long forgotten. She was just… Clementine .
Hours later, he walked into Pretty Baked and let his eyes scan over the bakery. It smelled delicious, but was silent and seemed empty. Even Luna wasn’t standing behind the counter. Until a tall, burly human with tattoos peeking out of every bit of exposed skin stepped out of the kitchen.
“Good morning. Can I help you with something?”
As a relatively tall person—standing at six foot three—he wasn’t often intimidated by other tall people. But this person? Could be classified as a giant. Add to that the layers of muscles that were straining against their clothes and Oakley was certain he could be knocked on ass with the flick of a finger.
“Looking for Clementine,” he said, voice shakier than he intended.
“Who are you?”
“Oakley West. I’ve been in here every day for donuts?” No more upward squeaking. Stay cool.
“She’s not here.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “Right. Okay. I’ll uh…could you let her know I came by?”
“No.” It was a growl that startled him before Luna appeared with a bright smile.
“Oakley!”
“Hey Luna. How’s it going?”
“Late start today?” Oakley hummed in response, as the giant continued to glare. Luna turned to look at the tattooed brute and rolled her eyes. “Roscoe, stop it.”
Roscoe softened a little, but didn’t stop glaring at Oakley. “What do you want with Chef Kinney?”
“We’re friends,” he forced out, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. Turning to Luna, he smiled a little. “Is she okay?”
“Yes! Sorry, ignore Roscoe. He’s protective of Chef Kinney. Who is at a wedding.”
“Wedding?” He scrolled through the information he’d stored after googling her.
“She makes wedding cakes. That’s what we’re known for, because she’s incredibly talented. So she’s at a wedding, prepping the cake.”
He nodded, remembering a link to an interview, and stepped away from Roscoe as Luna moved around the counter. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Chef’s out all day, but she made you a special batch of donuts,” Luna said and set a bakery box in front of him.
Oakley smiled, pulling the box closer and found a phone number scribbled in the top corner. Is that…holy shit! “Did she leave this for me?”
“Yup! She wanted to hear your thoughts.”
“On the donuts,” he said, even though it was so obvious. She gave me her number .
“Yup. Chef was here really early this morning before she had to be at the venue.”
“Seriously?” He couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across his face, because she’d done this for him . “Thanks, Luna.” He took a step back, his heart racing at this development. “Have a good day.”
“You too, Oakley. See you tomorrow!”
He lifted one hand in a wave and as casually as he could, Oakley walked out to his jeep. Why can’t I stop smiling? Because he’d had a dream about Clementine and frosting mere hours ago. Because she’d been at the bakery early that morning to make him donuts. Because…because…because…
She’d finally warmed up to him enough to trust him with her phone number.
Oakley was glad that when he got to the Needle, the front desk was empty and everyone was busy. Because it allowed him to sneak into his workstation with the donuts without letting everyone else know. He set the box down and stripped out of his layers, hanging everything up in the corner. Then once he was settled and able to think clearly, he picked up his phone and texted Clementine.
Oakley
About to dive into your special batch of donuts.
Hope the wedding goes off without a hitch.
Then before he could send her another text—because multiple texts without a single reply from the other person was a bit much—he put his phone away. He breathed deeply and flipped open the box. Like always, a dozen donuts stared back at him. From the looks of it, she’d taken his flavors seriously. He wondered if she’d made large batches or one donut each and if she’d specifically come into the bakery that morning just for him. The thought made him giggle and he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle it.
Reaching for the first one with a light glaze and tiny pieces on top, he knew it was the Maple Glazed with Bacon. He sniffed it and then took a bite, feeling the warm donut melt on his tongue. The flavors were incredible. He’d never been a fan of sweet and savory mixing when he was a kid—see the conversation about Thanksgiving. But now, the combination of maple and bacon was magic. With dough as an added layer, it was even better. He took another bite and then set it back in the box. Working in order from the top left, he broke off pieces from each donut and savored it slowly. He behaved like some kind of expert, rolling the dough around his mouth before making notes in his phone. The itch to check if she had replied was there, but he knew better than to get caught up in that.
Don’t come across as too eager, that’s the key here .
However, the final donut changed the game.
Tiny pieces were baked into the donut and sprinkled over the white layer on top. It was only once he took a bite that he understood what Clementine had done—she’d taken his comfort food and turned it into a donut.
Milk and Cereal.
Specifically Rice Krispies.
The emotional overwhelm shocked him, so he wasn’t aware he had company.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Fox asked as Oakley pouted at the last bit of the donut.
“You were right,” he mumbled, “the fascination has turned into something else.”
In a move that was so unlike him, Fox patted him on the back. “Step away from the donuts, kid.”
He nodded and wiped his icing and sugar covered fingers on his T-shirt. Fox guided him out of the shop and left him standing outside with his head tipped back. Of course she’s destroyed me, I should have seen this coming. His phone buzzed and Oakley hesitated before pulling it out to see her name on the screen.
Clementine
Which was your favorite?
Did you spot the one you missed on your list?
He nodded at her second text, then pinched his eyes shut because he couldn’t let himself get so caught up in her like this. She’d made it clear they could be friends and nothing more. She didn’t want to date him, Oakley got it. But he wanted her and it was going to drive him insane.
Oakley
You broke me.
You have also outdone yourself.
Three dots appeared and vanished a few times before a text came through.
Clementine
You ate ALL of them?
Oakley
TRIED all of them, ate about four.
Clementine
That’s a lot of sugar for one person.
Oakley
Says the baker. Maybe you should make sugar free donuts next time.
Clementine
Fuck that. Dessert is meant to be sweet and enjoyed, not treated like a guilty pleasure.
He smiled at the text, a loud guffaw escaping his lips as he heard the fuck that in her voice.
Oakley
I agree. But sugar free would cut down how much I consume at a stretch.
Clementine
Did you not share with your coworkers?
Oakley
They were for me. So, no.
How did the wedding go?
Clementine
Fine. Weddings are all the same, it’s the cake that matters to me.
Oakley
What cake did you make?
After a few minutes, a picture appeared and he gaped at the sight—four thick layers with cream frosting and a light pink ombre, white flowers were scattered around, mostly resting on the space between each layer.
Oakley
You made that?
Clementine
Freya and I did.
Oakley
Holy shit, that’s beautiful.
Clementine
I know. It’s what I’m known for.
Oakley
Modesty too, apparently.
Clementine
*emoji of a brown woman with her hand held out, palm facing up*
Oakley
What’s the flavor?
Clementine
Raspberry and champagne.
Which was your favorite?
Oakley closed his eyes for a minute, wondering if he should be honest and tell her how each flavor made him feel. He did have notes for every donut and it didn’t feel like the worst idea. The Apple Cider and Key Lime were the perfect level of tartiness, while the Carrot Cake and Banana Bread shouldn’t have worked, but did and might have been his favorites. The Baked Lemon was unpleasant, but the Chai Spiced actually turned out better than he thought it would. She’d also added a few others that weren’t on his list—raspberries and blueberries, honey glazed strawberries, a light tea and pumpkin.
Oakley
The Carrot and Banana were outstanding, inhaled those two without hesitation. Cinnamon and Chai too, so freaking good.
Clementine
That’s a list, not ONE favorite.
He smiled, knowing why she was pushing so hard. She wanted him to talk about the Cereal one and he would, he needed a minute.
Oakley
The Key Lime was really interesting, the Baked Lemon not so much.
Clementine
Oakley…
Blowing out a breath, he pushed his shoulders back and nodded as his thumbs flew across the keyboard. If she wanted honesty, he’d give her honesty.
Oakley
Do you want me to tell you that the minute I saw the Cereal one, I burst into tears? That I savored it and cried the whole time. That it reminded me of the simple pleasures in life. I had a vision of us waking up together and it felt so real. It made me wonder what it would feel like to sit with you while we eat cereal together after a long day. That I feel so fucking special to know you were up early this morning to make donuts for me. Or that one donut filled me with more joy than anything else has in a really long time.
He closed his eyes and before he could change his mind, he hit send. The notification changed from Delivered to Read and he grit his teeth to calm himself.
Oakley
Is that what you wanted to know, Clementine?
Within seconds of his second message, hers came through.
Clementine
Yes.
He stared at the one word, three letters and his heart soared.
Clementine Kinney would be his ruin and he was okay with it.