Chapter 15
Near closing time,the bakery still had a few customers. Jordan worked the register with a fast-paced energy, taking orders and packing up baked goodies.
As the clock struck five, I gazed out of the windows to see the horizon melting into dusky shades of twilight. The once radiant sun now dipped low, casting elongated shadows that stretched lazily across the streets.
I lingered after my shift ended, standing in the archway between the front counter and the kitchen. Bishop was like a baking maestro, his large hands moving with precision as he crafted an intricate design on a chocolate cake. He had been working tirelessly for hours on orders, the creases around his eyes hinting at exhaustion.
“Can you believe this crowd?” Jordan handed a customer their change. “Bishop’s gonna need to hire another part-timer.”
I smiled. “Must be all those rave reviews we’ve been getting since the rebranding.”
Jordan turned to the last customer. “We’re closing in five minutes, so please make your selection.”
I walked into the kitchen and stopped beside my boss. Bishop was focused on finishing the anniversary cake order in front of him, his lips pressed together as he piped each rose.
“Why don’t you take a break?” I snapped lids onto containers and placed them on the shelves. “Jordan said there’s a rooftop area upstairs that has a nice view.”
“I don’t have time,” he said gruffly.
I nudged his arm. “Some fresh air will do you good.”
He glanced at me, his brows pinched, but I could tell he was considering it.
Bishop put down the piping bag and wiped his hands on his apron. “All right, just for a few minutes.”
“Great! I’ll bring tea. It’ll be cozy.”
I grabbed two mugs, poured in hot water, and dunked in teabags. Carrying the cups, I led Bishop through the kitchen and up the narrow staircase.
We climbed the creaky wooden stairs, and the noise from the bakery receded. I missed a step, and he steadied me, his hand warm against my skin, sending a ripple of heat that spiraled up from my toes, through my legs, and enveloped me.
When we reached the top of the stairwell, I pushed open the door to reveal the rooftop. A chill breeze instantly swept through my wavy hair as we stepped outside. String lights that crisscrossed overhead cast delicate shadows on the old brick walls. The town unfolded before us and in the distance, a gentle roar echoed from the waterfall, spilling over the rock-strewn embankment.
Bishop blew out a breath. “I haven’t been up here in months.”
I placed the teacups on a round metal table between two rusty lawn chairs. Jordan had left a plush blanket draped over one of the seats. Grabbing it, I flung it over my shoulders before settling down on the chair with a satisfied sigh.
Bishop sat beside me, close enough that our knees almost touched, but maintaining a respectful distance. We reclined and took in the stunning evening sky. Stars sparkled like gems against the inky black canvas. I became increasingly aware of Bishop’s nearness, the heat emanating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and the way his breathing was slow and steady.
“Look at that view. It makes you feel so small, doesn’t it?” I whispered.
“It does put things into perspective.”
The soft murmur of cars cruising the streets mingled with the soft rustling of leaves and created a soothing soundtrack, making it easy to forget the world that existed beyond the rooftop’s edge.
The wind picked up, teasing the edges of the blanket. I shivered, drawing the fabric tighter around myself.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Just a little.”
He lifted a teacup. “This should help warm you up.”
When he passed the cup to me, our fingers brushed against each other and heat spread through me. He kept his gaze on mine and my heart beat faster. His pupils dilated to an intense depth, dark and sultry, that caused every nerve ending to tingle. And suddenly I was teetering on the brink of a high cliff. My instincts whispered to me to be cautious, but that magnetic pull was drawing me closer to the precipice. Everything blurred at the edges, focusing on the man before me. And even more disconcerting was the feeling that I didn’t want to retreat from the ledge.
Each second stretched on, as if waiting for one of us to bridge the distance. I had never felt this way about a man I was attracted to, and I knew that whatever was happening might end with someone taking a leap.
Neither of us moved.
Breaking eye contact, he sighed and looked upward, gazing at the glowing moon.
I lifted the steamy teacup and took a sip. “We should make pastries inspired by the stars with a dusting of powdered sugar to represent the galaxy.”
“An intriguing concept.”
I sipped my tea, the steam swirling in the night air. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.” There was an attentiveness in his posture, his body leaning toward mine.
I placed the cup on the table. “What’s your take on honesty? In relationships, I mean.”
Bishop’s brow furrowed as he considered the question. “I believe honesty and integrity are the foundations of any successful relationship, whether personal or professional. Deceit only leads to distrust and resentment. If people aren’t honest with each other, how can they build anything meaningful?”
His words carried the affliction of long-held beliefs. My admiration for him grew, but so did my unease. He would see my lack of baking knowledge as dishonesty, and a knot tightened in the pit of my stomach.
The distant hum of the town and the chirping of crickets became deafening.
I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. “That makes sense.” My voice sounded raspy, my emotions swaying. “Sometimes, though, it’s hard to be completely truthful, especially when we’re afraid of losing something important. Or, you know, when telling harmless white lies.”
“In my experience, even fibs that seem innocent can undermine trust down the road and ruin a good thing. If two people really want to create something real together, they gotta be straight with each other.”
The taste of guilt soured in my gut. As we sipped our tea and stargazed, I fought the urge to reach out and touch his hand that rested inches from mine on the chair’s armrest and confess everything. But fear held my tongue hostage. I needed my job at the bakery and I couldn’t risk losing it.
Ah, this must be my sense and sensibility kicking in.
I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs. “I’ve always wanted to combine graphic design with baking, and helping rebrand the bakery was like merging my two loves. Crazy, right?”
Bishop tilted his head. “No, not crazy at all. I think it’s wonderful you’ve found a way to blend your diverse passions.” He gave me an encouraging nod. “The bakery certainly benefited from your creative vision.”
“That’s kind of you to say. I hope I can live up to everyone’s expectations.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, the fabric of my graphic tee crinkling around my waist. “Sometimes life feels like I’m in way over my head. Like I’m always one step away from everything falling apart.”
Bishop looked out over the city. “You seem like someone who’s got it all together.”
I snorted. “Appearances can be deceiving. My whole fear of abandonment thing? It hits hard, especially when you’ve lost everyone who’s supposed to stick by you. My parents, my grandparents...”
His eyes met mine, a depth of emotion swirling within them. “I get it, the fear of relying on someone, of trusting. I’ve built walls to protect myself. The bakery is more than a business, in a way, it’s like my fortress.”
I tilted my head. “You never let anyone in?”
He looked away, his muscular arm flexing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Each time I do, I end up disappointed.”
“Have you ever thought that expecting people to disappoint you might actually be creating a self-fulfilling prophecy?”
Bishop scratched the scruff on his cheek, a contemplative look crossing his face. “I think...well, maybe I’m afraid to hope for anything different.”
Wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, I let out a small laugh, the sound muffled by the fabric. “It’s funny how life has a way of bringing people together. I mean...maybe we can be each other’s form of friendship therapy.”
“Friendship therapy, huh?” Turning his body to face me fully, Bishop’s expression remained serious, but the corners of his eyes softened. “That would be nice.”
I smiled. “It’ll be the highlight of my next TED talk.”
Bishop’s lips twitched. “I thought your dream was creating pet treats and graphic art, not becoming a life coach.”
“Ah, yes.” I sighed. “When you’ve been on your own as long as I have, dreams sometimes take a backseat to reality.”
He slowly nodded. “But they shouldn’t. Our dreams are what keep us moving forward. They’re the heartbeat of our souls.”
My eyes widened. “Bishop Caine getting poetic? Now, that’s a first.”
His fingers grazed my hand, the gesture slow and deliberate. Our gazes locked, and the air grew charged.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he murmured, his voice low and suggestive.
I drew a sharp breath, hyperaware of his touch still present on my skin. “Then think about breaking down those walls and let someone in for once.” I smiled. “Despite your broody-self, I bet a lot of people want to be friends with you. Do you have many?”
Bishop sat back, causing the chair to creak under his weight. “I have acquaintances, people I’ve met through the bakery, business contacts. But real friends? Not as many as you’d think.”
I tapped my chin. “Let’s see, I have a dozen friends who’d drop everything to hang out with me on a karaoke night at the coffeehouse. Which you should totally do with us sometime.”
“Uh, I’m not much for singing. Or crowds…” He paused, staring into my eyes. “But maybe...for the right person.”
My heart throbbed at the implication. “But seriously, Bishop, friendships, real ones, they’re therapeutic. They’ve been my anchor through the hardest times in my life.”
He nodded. “Perhaps it’s time for me to branch out a bit.”
“We’ll get you there,” I said with a wink. “One karaoke night at a time.”
He rolled his eyes, the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re incorrigible, Kenzi Middleton.”
I leaned closer, narrowing my gaze. “Is that a smile I detect?”
His brow arched. “You might be the only person I’ve met who has the audacity to tease me this way.”
“Admit it, you appreciate when I challenge your structured ways,” I said, swishing hair over my shoulder. “I keep things interesting.”
“No one would argue that.” He lifted his head, his stare wandering across the twinkling skyline. “This has been...nice. Talking, being here with you. It’s different.”
A warm feeling settled in my chest. “Different good or different bad?”
“Unexpected,” he said, his voice velvety smooth. “Unexpectedly good.”
The atmosphere between us shifted, growing warmer, cozier. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned his head toward mine. The world narrowed to only the two of us. Every distant sound, every whisper of the night, silenced. Under the soft moonlight, the lines of his face took on a gentle luminescence, each shadow and highlight more pronounced.
“Kenzi...” he whispered, his voice hushed and barely audible.
Bishop’s hand edged nearer, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before our fingers touched. My heart fluttered as our fingers entwined, igniting a potent surge of affection within me for this enigmatic man. His fingers squeezed mine, and a warm and pleasant hum coursed through my blood. Bishop’s gaze fell on my mouth, a flash of desire lingering in their depths. His thumb started gently stroking my skin, electrifying every fiber of my being.
There was a raw vulnerability about him that I had never witnessed before. An almost hypnotic appeal towards him was simply too overwhelming like a seductive allure of forbidden feelings that was impossible to resist.
Neither of us moved, spoke as everything faded into oblivion. With that simple gesture of hand holding, it had blurred the lines between us, threatening to tip the balance in our professional relationship. My breath hitched and I licked my lips. Bishop leaned in until our faces were inches apart, his breath mingling with mine, my eyes closing?—
“Hey, Bishop!” Jordan’s voice rang out from the rooftop doorway. “Phone call for you.”
Bishop and I jerked back, our hands parting as if we’d been caught stealing cookies from the jar before dinner.
Bishop grunted and settled back in his seat. He flexed his hand, his fingers stiff. “Thanks, Jordan. Be right there.”
A pang of disappointment hit me hard at how close we’d come to sharing a kiss. The passion that had swaddled me moments before dissipated, replaced with a chill that prickled my skin.
“I should take that call,” he said. “Don’t stay up here too long.”
Bishop disappeared down the stairwell. I huddled in the blanket, the memory of our almost kiss, leaving me yearning for something I shouldn’t be craving.
I reclined in the lawn chair, staring up at the night sky.
“Okay, Universe, spill the tea,” I whispered, my voice carried away by the soft swooshing of the breeze. “Any advice on what to do about this crush on my boss?”
The moon glowered down at me.
Under the darkening sky, I vowed to tell Bishop the truth, to reveal my deception and hope with all my heart that he would still see me the same way...just not now, but soon. Very soon.