Chapter Six #2
Blair breathed out. He needed to stop complimenting her. For her, this was a bad trip down memory lane. All bad. Because as nice as Luke was to look at right now, and as much as he’d once meant the world to her, he was building a freaking café right next door to hers.
Blair used every molecule of energy in her to remove all the warm feelings from the past and focus only on the present. ‘Tell me the truth. Are you building that café as revenge? And were you the one who messed with my lock and plants?’
Luke exhaled, annoyed. ‘I’m building a bakery, Blair. It’s my mother’s lifelong dream, and I’m making it happen for her. And like I said that spot was the only vacant storefront in town. I’m not here to destroy your business. And I certainly didn’t . . . or wouldn’t do anything to your café.’
Blair shook her head. ‘Okay, but you get that a bakery that sells coffee will affect my business, right? This isn’t the city, Luke.
Moonbeam Hollow is a small town. It can support one café, and probably one bakery, too.
If you have tables and chairs and speciality drinks, then you’ll be taking my customers. ’
‘That’s ridiculous, Blair.’ Luke rolled his eyes. ‘Your café is nothing like what the bakery will be. Our focus is going to be on breads, pies and French pastries. Coffee’s an afterthought.’
He was seriously calling her main product, the thing that she spent years perfecting, an afterthought.
Blair exhaled. He was an asshole. Not adorable, not sexy.
Just an asshole. At that moment, the alarm on her watch went off, startling Blair and Luke both.
‘That’s twenty minutes. The painting is mine. ’
Luke crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Not if I don’t sell it to you, it isn’t.’
‘Now you’re not selling it to me.’ Of course he wasn’t. Because Luke Caldwell had no problem playing dirty to win. Hell, him saying how affected he was by seeing her, and saying she looked the same but better was probably all part of his act. Confusing her emotions to get what he wanted.
‘Why should I? We haven’t cleared any air. And you’re still accusing me of sabotaging your café! Something tells me that letting you have the painting won’t make you stop thinking of me as your enemy.’
‘How the hell do you want me to think of you, Luke? We are enemies. We’ve always been, remember? We were voted most likely to hire assassins on each other in our grade ten yearbook. I still have it – I can show you to jog your memory.’
‘We weren’t always enemies, Blair,’ Luke said, voice low. He was looking right at her, angry. Furious, actually. His eyes were sharp and his jaw was set. She could feel heat radiating off him. ‘I don’t know why you’re insisting on this revisionist history, but you know it as well as I do.’
And Blair was furious, too. She was so furious she was shaking. How dare Luke Caldwell come back into her life now, looking like that, and confusing all her emotions. She made a fist with her hand, her fingernails digging into her palm.
‘In fact,’ Luke said, fire still in his eyes.
‘I think maybe I should be the one jogging your memory.’ In a swift motion, he moved the apple fritter box to the other side of him on the bench, and reached behind Blair’s neck, lightly touching her skin there.
Blair gasped at the touch. His eyes were still fiery hot, but his touch was soft and gentle.
Blair could feel the start of calluses on his fingers, and on her sensitive skin it caused goosebumps to erupt over her whole body.
He leaned closer, focusing those furious brown eyes on hers, then her lips.
And Blair, as weak as she was, couldn’t help but lean into him. She was a moth, and he was a red-hot flame, and all she wanted was for him to envelop her, even if it destroyed her again.
He inhaled sharply as she moved even closer.
They stared at each other for seconds that felt like hours, the green in his normally brown eyes brighter in the sun.
Blair could see the pores on his face, the light curl of his eyelashes and the softness of his lips.
She put her hand on his firm thigh and squeezed, and the worn denim and firm muscles made her want to get even closer to this infuriating man.
And then he pulled her to him, and his lips were on hers.
And holy shit, she knew it was coming but she still gasped with surprise.
She couldn’t wrap her head around it – this was Luke kissing her.
Her first love. Blair’s fingers curled on his thigh as the kiss deepened, his tongue exploring her mouth as her hand inched upward on his thigh.
Blair’s lips tingled and his hand on the back of her neck made her skin want to combust. Somehow this kiss that started out furious was the hottest thing Blair had ever experienced, and when Luke’s other arm encircled her waist, bringing her even closer, Blair knew that if they weren’t in semi-public, this kiss would have led to a lot more than kissing.
But this was wrong. This was Luke . . . It was way, way too risky to get involved with him. Not now. Honestly, not ever.
Blair tore away from the kiss, breathing heavily. He looked as shaken up as she felt. His brow was in a straight line and his lips were swollen. And it was easily the most arousing thing Blair had ever seen in her life.
Blair shook her head, then stood from the bench. She didn’t need the damn painting. ‘I’m not accusing you of being my enemy, Caldwell,’ she spat out. ‘You are my enemy. You’re the same cocky kid you were in high school, and I am going to enjoy crushing your bakery.’
She got up and walked away, leaving the half-eaten box of apple fritters. And leaving Luke Caldwell in the past, where he belonged.