Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Popeye
Christina’s cryptic words kept running through my head. I’d just set the journal down, needing a break from the implication of what she said, when the couple entered the bakery.
“Hello, Trudy,” the woman said, her voice a little too delighted.
My eyes snapped to Trudy, and I saw the tension in her body, her voice tight as she replied, “Hello, Edith. What can I get you two?”
“We need to place an order for a cake.”
“Alright,” Trudy said, grabbing a pad off the counter behind me. “Is this for an occasion?”
The man, who looked to be about my age, or maybe older, glanced away as if he were uncomfortable leaving Edith to answer, “It’s our ten-year anniversary. Harold’s kids wanted us to have a party. They’ve been just so happy to have me in their lives, they want to celebrate.”
“Well, congratulations.”
I stood up, the journal and whatever confessions Christina wanted to saddle me with forgotten as I quietly made my way toward the woman I’d been fucking panting over for the past six months.
“You’ll come, of course.” Edith’s voice was smug.
“What?” Trudy’s focus was on the couple; she didn’t see me moving in her direction.
“To our celebration.” Edith’s smile wasn’t genuine. It reminded me of the club whores from back in the day. The ones that smiled to Virginia Stone’s face, knowing they were fucking her husband when she was at home.
Six months. Six fucking months of watching this woman move around this bakery like she owned the goddamn world. Six months of bear claws and black coffee and money she refused to take. Six months of her pretending she didn’t feel this thing between us.
Six months of me thinking about her when I should’ve been thinking about Grace. About Christina’s journal. About all the shit I’d lost.
But no. All I could think about was Trudy. The way her hips swayed when she walked. The way her eyes flashed when she got pissed. The way her voice went soft when she talked about her granddaughter.
I was fucking obsessed.
“The whole town is invited,” Harold said.
“You can bring a date, of course. If you have one,” Edith added.
Oh, fuck no.
Not happening.
This bitch wasn’t going to stand here and make Trudy feel small. Wasn’t going to make her feel like she was alone. Like she didn’t have someone.
She had me.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not.
“We’d be happy too,” I replied as I slipped my arm around Trudy’s waist from behind.
Christ, she felt good. Soft and warm and real. Not like Christina, who’d always felt fragile. Breakable. Trudy felt solid. Strong. Like she could take whatever I threw at her and throw it right back.
Her body tensed and then relaxed into me.
Yeah. That’s right, darlin’. You know where you belong.
Edith’s eyes widened in surprise, while her husband’s dropped to where my arm held Trudy against me.
That’s right motherfucker. She’s fucking mine.
Based on the look on the man’s face, there had been something between them at some point.
And he still wanted her. I could see it in the way his eyes lingered. In the way his jaw tightened. In the way he looked at my hand on her waist like he wanted to rip it off.
Too fucking bad.
She wasn’t his. She was mine. Had been mine since the first time I walked into this shop and saw her glaring at me like I was something she scraped off her shoe.
Mine.
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Edith’s voice had taken a less joyful tone.
Good. Let the bitch squirm.
“She’s been mine for six months. Just took her a while to accept it,” I said. “So, when is this party?”
Truth was, she still hadn’t accepted it. Still fought me every goddamn day. Still pretended she didn’t want me. But she would. Eventually. Because I wasn’t going anywhere.
I’d spent twenty years searching for my daughter. Twenty years of dead ends and false leads and nights where I wanted to put a bullet in my own head because I couldn’t find her.
I wasn’t losing again.
Not Grace. Not Trudy. Not a goddamn thing.
Edith’s voice was cold and stiff as she relayed the information to Trudy, who wrote it down with a steady hand I knew was more from repetition than confidence. My thumb grazed the underside of her tit, struggling to keep from lifting it higher and palming the full globe.
So fucking soft. I wanted to slide my hand lower. Wanted to feel if she was as affected by this as I was. Wanted to make her admit she felt it too.
But not here. Not in front of these assholes.
Later. When it was just us. When she couldn’t hide behind her counter and her sharp tongue and her bullshit excuses.
Edith fucking bragged some bullshit about Harold’s kids and how much they loved her. I leaned in closer and brushed my lips along the shell of her ear.
Trudy’s breath hitched. Just a little. Just enough for me to know she felt it.
Fuck, I wanted her.
Wanted to bend her over this counter and make her scream my name. Wanted to show Harold and his smug bitch wife exactly who Trudy belonged to. I wanted to erase every memory she had of this man and replace it with me.
“Congratulations on ten years,” I said, my voice filled with years of fucking diplomacy I’d perfected from being the VP of a motorcycle club. Years of backroom deals and fixing George Stone’s indiscretions. “We look forward to celebrating with you.”
I looked the man in the eye, making sure he heard the dismissal in the low tone of my voice. He paid for the order, then grabbed his wife by the hand and hurried her out the door.
Yeah. Run, motherfucker. She’s not yours anymore.
As soon as the door closed, Trudy spun around and placed her hands on my chest, shoving me back.
“What the hell was that?” she cried.
There it was. That fire. That defiance. Christ, it made me hard.
She could shove me all she wanted. Could yell and curse and tell me to go to hell. It didn’t matter. Because I saw the way her pupils dilated when I touched her. Saw the way her breath caught when I leaned in close.
She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
She was just too goddamn stubborn to admit it.
Pati, her granddaughter, came through the doors before I could answer. “Was that Harold and Edith?”
“Yes,” Trudy snapped as she glared at me. “They ordered a cake for their anniversary party.”
“The audacity of that woman! I’ll cancel it and refund his card.”
“You will do no such thing.” Trudy turned to Pati. “This bakery does not discriminate.”
“Nana, you can’t honestly think I would bake a cake for them after?—”
“Patricia,” Trudy cut her off. “This is a business.” She turned and faced me, her eyes narrowing at the smile on my face. “You don’t belong back here.”
Oh, but I did. I belonged wherever the fuck she was.
I moved to the other side of the counter and leaned against it.
Distance. She wanted distance. Thought it would make this easier. Or maybe make me go away.
Not a fucking chance.
“So, will you wear something short and low cut?” I asked.
“I am not going.”
“Of course you aren’t going,” Pati agreed. “Why would you go?”
“Because they invited the whole town,” I told Pati as my eyes locked on to Trudy and the blush creeping up her neck. “And I told them we’d be happy to go.”
That blush. Fuck, I wanted to see it spread lower. Wanted to see it cover her chest, her stomach, her thighs.
Wanted to be the reason for it.
“There is no we,” Trudy argued. “You are free to go, but I am not.”
Yes, there fucking was. There’d been a ‘we’ since the first time I walked in here. She just hadn’t figured it out yet.
“Now, Trudy, you don’t want people to think you’re jealous, do you?” Her jaw tensed and I knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
Jealous. Yeah. She was jealous. Jealous that Harold had moved on. Jealous that he’d married someone else. Jealous that he hadn’t fought for her.
But I would. I’d fight for her every goddamn day if that was what it took.
She straightened her shoulders and asked, “Why would I be jealous?”
“Clearly you had some kind of relationship with the man. High school sweethearts?” I asked, cocking my head to the side as I considered the possibilities. I’d already had Shame do some snooping for me. I knew she’d been married to a man named Terrence who’d passed away decades ago.
But Harold was different. Harold was the one that walked away. The one she still thought about. The one who made her tense up when he walked in the door.
The one I was going to make her forget.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She grabbed a rag and got busy wiping down tables no one had sat at since I’d been there.
Deflection. Classic Trudy. When she didn’t want to talk about something, she cleaned.
“Nana dated Harold right before Edith,” Pati offered, “but Harold’s kids didn’t approve.”
There was the truth. Harold’s kids didn’t approve, so he married someone else. Left Trudy behind.
Fucking coward.
“Patricia!” Trudy turned and snapped at her granddaughter. “Do I smell muffins burning?”
“No, you don’t, but fine.” Pati looked back at me. “Edith is the one who’s jealous because while Nana got over Harold just fine, he never got over her.” She turned on her heel and dashed into the kitchen before Trudy could say anything more.
Good girl. I liked Pati. She had her grandmother’s fire.
“I can understand that,” I said as my eyes trailed up and down Trudy’s body. I rubbed my thumb over my bottom lip, thinking about all the ways I wanted to make this woman come undone.
All the ways I was going to make her come.
On my fingers.
On my tongue.
On my cock.
Until she couldn’t remember Harold’s name. Until she couldn’t remember anyone’s name but mine.
“Understand what?” she demanded.
“Harold not being able to get over you.” I moved across the room until I stood directly in front of her.
Close enough to smell her. Close enough to feel the heat coming off her body. Close enough to see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.
Close enough to take.
She blinked up at me.
Those eyes. Christ, those eyes. They’d been haunting me for months. Blue and sharp and full of fire.
I wanted to see them glazed with pleasure. Wanted to see them roll back when I thrust inside her.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for six fucking months,” I said. The pulse at the base of her throat picked up speed as I leaned in and added, “And I haven’t even tasted you yet.”
But I would.
Soon.
Real fucking soon.
I stepped back, letting the promise hang in the air between us. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, probably tell me to go to hell, but no words came out.
Yeah. That’s what I thought.
I turned and walked back to the table where I’d been sitting. Grabbed Christina’s journal off the surface, the leather worn and familiar in my hand now.
Christina’s secrets. Christina’s lies. Christina’s guilt.
All of it waiting for me to unpack.
But right now, all I could think about was Trudy. The way she’d felt in my arms. The way she’d looked at me. The way she’d tried so hard to pretend she didn’t want this.
I tucked the journal under my arm and headed for the door.
Stopped.
Looked back at her.
She was still standing there, frozen, her hand pressed against her throat like she was trying to slow her pulse.
“See you tomorrow, darlin’,” I said. “Same time. Same table.”
Then I walked out, the bell over the door jingling behind me.
Mine.
She just didn’t know it yet.