28. Chapter 28
twenty-eight
Sadie
Iwoke up with him wrapped around me, grumbling about it being too early.
“Some of us have a bakery to run. Breakfast is a busy time.” I yawned.
My lips still felt fully kissed. A little tender from his beard. But it made it feel real.
It was real.
That made me smile. Then I flipped over to face him and kissed him full on. His eyes popped open then.
“Well, good morning to you, too.” He smiled then.
“Just making sure it wasn’t a dream.”
He laughed. “If this is a dream, you gotta raise your standards.”
“Hey. I will not have you talking about my Daniel that way.”
His eyes snapped back up to me. Something is going soft on his face.
“Seriously. I have been dreaming about you since you moved the booth for me. Maybe before. I like you. I like you, grumpy, and I like you much more like this. All that shit Jessie did was terrible, and she is a wicked bitch.” He laughed, but I kept on.
“But the worst thing she did was make you doubt yourself.”
I sat up. “If I have to remind you every time you make a self-deprecating joke or comment, I will. You, Daniel Callahan, are worth it.”
For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Then he reached out and curled a hand around my ankle, like he just needed to be touching me.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” he said quietly. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me. Not like they meant it.”
“I do.” I reached for his hand and linked our fingers. “I mean it.”
He swallowed hard, and I watched his jaw flex like he was trying to lock everything down inside. But one tear slid free anyway. He wiped it away fast, like maybe I hadn’t seen.
But I had.
I moved back down and pressed my forehead to his. “You don’t have to say anything right now. But if you ever start to believe it—even a little, I hope I’m the first person you tell.”
He nodded, that silent kind of nod that meant it hit somewhere deep. “You’re the first person I’d want to tell.”
And just like that, we were wrapped up again. Not in lust. Not in tension. Just warmth and something that felt like home.
He kissed the top of my head and sighed. “Okay, bakery girl. Make your muffins or your cinnamon swirl miracles or whatever. But you'd better save me one.”
“I’ll save you two,” I promised, smiling against his chest. “One for now, one for after you finish helping me move the ovens this afternoon.”
He groaned dramatically. “So that’s why you kept me.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be paid in baked goods and kisses.”
“Honestly?” He kissed my temple. “Best damn offer I’ve had in my whole damn life.”
I got showered and dressed, and when I came out, he was gone with a note saying he had to get dressed for work and he’d see me later. I looked at his messy all-caps writing, and it made me smile.
I headed downstairs and began baking this morning’s treats. And I had the best inspiration.
Gimme kisses- a chocolate croissant with a Kiss chocolate on the top. Served with a mocha latte with a shot of espresso.
I wrote it on the chalkboard menu with a flourish, adding a little doodle of a heart and lips beside the name. Then I stepped back and admired it, still grinning like a fool.
The bell over the front door jingled, and Amy walked in, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw the board.
“Gimme kisses?” she asked, heading straight for the counter. “Is this one inspired by a certain grumpy mechanic who is suddenly not so grumpy?”
I tried to keep my cool. Failed. “Maybe.”
Amy raised a brow and leaned in. “You’re glowing, girl. Like, practically sparkling. Did something happen?”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, sliding a croissant onto a plate and handing her the mocha latte with an extra wink.
“But you do bake and tell,” she countered, taking a sip. “Mmm. Yup. That’s love. Or at least lust with good afterglow.”
I bit my lip, cheeks burning, but the smile stayed put. “He stayed the night.”
Amy gasped, nearly spilling her drink. “Shut up.”
“No, you shut up,” I said, laughing. “It wasn’t like that. I mean… okay, it was a little like that. But mostly we talked. We kissed. We curled up like pretzels and fell asleep. And this morning… it was just nice. Like real nice.”
She softened, her teasing fading into something tender. “I’m really happy for you, Sadie.”
“Thanks. I just… I don’t want to rush. But I also don’t want to run away from it either. He makes me feel seen. Like all my too-muchness is just right.”
Amy nodded. “That’s exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”
The bell rang again, and a few more regulars trickled in, lured by the smell of chocolate and espresso.
But even as I slipped into my usual morning rhythm, my heart kept a little beat just for him.
Daniel Callahan, you are absolutely getting a whole tray of these croissants.
Whether he knew it or not, that man had just become the unofficial muse of my menu.
Diesel
The garage seemed different today, or maybe it was me.
The cut hanging on the back of my usual chair caught my eye—Broken Saints stitched across the top, worn at the edges from years of sweat and road miles.
Wrecker was arguing with Skunk about a run coming up this weekend, something about a meet two counties over. Ghost just listened, arms crossed, like he always did—quiet, watching everything.
Same place. Same people.
But for the first time in a long damn while… it didn’t feel like the only thing I had.
Wrecker and Skunk didn’t even razz me too much. Just a few jokes, then an honest, “We’re really happy for you, man.”
I felt lighter. I started working on Noah’s bike and sent him a text that as soon as I got the parts we ordered, she would be ready for pickup. I snapped a photo to show him how she was really shining now.
“Looks good,” Beck said as he came up behind me.
“She does, doesn’t she?” I said buffing a spot that didn’t need it.
“I think you need to use some of your PTO, man. You have like four weeks built up.” Beck crossed his arms like he was not going to give up on this.
“Yeah, maybe when I get the parts and finish this up.”
Beck shook his head. “I mean, starting now. You go. You have somewhere better to be until next Monday. Noah knows you’re on vacation.”
“You trying to get rid of me?”
“I am trying to give you time to woo that sweet cupcake of yours,” Beck said, voice calm but carrying that tone he used when it wasn’t just a suggestion—it was a call. “Club’s handled. Garage is handled. You? You’re overdue. And you’ll thank me when you get back, I promise that. Now, scat.”
I grumbled something under my breath about being manhandled out of my own garage, but Beck wasn’t wrong. I did have somewhere better to be.
Still, it felt weird. Like I was walking around in someone else’s skin—someone who didn’t feel the constant weight of everything he wasn’t allowed to want.
I washed my hands, grabbed my helmet, and as I walked out the door, Wrecker called, “Bring us back cupcakes!”
“Only if I don't eat them all first,” I tossed over my shoulder.
I headed to my place, changed out of my grease-stained clothes and into jeans that didn’t have holes and a clean black tee. Not a fancy man, but I figured if I was going to show up unannounced, I should at least smell good and look like I didn’t crawl out from under a carburetor.
I showed up at the bakery just as the late-morning crowd was thinning, and there she was. Flour on her cheek. A smudge of chocolate on her apron. Laughing at something Amy was saying behind the counter.
Her pink hair tied up in a messy knot, a few strands falling loose… just enough to make my chest tighten when I thought about ink and skin and the way she was already part of me long before she knew it.
Because I wasn’t falling anymore.
I was already hers.
And every instinct I had—the same ones that kept my brothers safe, that made men think twice before crossing a Saint—locked in on her like she was mine to protect.
Not own.
Never that.
But stand between her and anything that might try to dim that smile?
Yeah. That I understood.