Chapter 16
What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have gone there. I shouldn’t have brought him anything, and I definitely shouldn’t have let him almost kiss me. I’m pretty sure he was about to kiss me before the beautiful redhead interrupted us. If looks could kill, I would have been a pile of ashes. She must have some relationship with Brant because she wasn’t even trying to hide the jealousy written all over her face.
I needed time to process what in the world had just happened, so instead of driving back to Mom and Dad’s, I headed toward the bakery. I parked my car around the back and hurried to the back door. Pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders, I fished the keys out of my pocket before unlocking the door and shoving inside.
Once in the safety of my kitchen, I let out a long sigh and slid to the tiled floor. With my back against the door, I placed my head in my hands.
What are you doing, Karis? I mentally chided myself. I knew I needed to shove my feelings down deep and move on, but I couldn’t help the little prick of jealousy that flared in my chest. Who was that woman, and how did she know Brant?
I would drive myself mad sitting here, allowing my mind to run a million miles in every direction, so I steeled myself, pushed up off the floor, and got to work.
I technically had the day off today because it was Christmas. Still, I wanted to get a jump start for tomorrow, and baking had always been a stress reliever for me. I could vividly remember many times when I was overwhelmed with school or life, and Mom would always find me in the kitchen creating something new. I found that when my mind was focused on creating, it didn’t have time to worry or focus on anything else.
I didn’t know how long I spent mixing, praying, frosting, praying, baking, and praying some more. When I turned to see the counter covered in cooling racks that were overflowing with all kinds of treats, I knew I must have lost track of time.
The emotions that had been welling up within me a few hours ago seemed far less overwhelming now. I set to work cleaning and storing my baked goods. After another thirty minutes, I dried my hands on the dish towel, slung it over my shoulder, and moved to grab my phone and keys.
With my phone in my hand, I tapped the home screen, noticing I had four new notifications. I slowly scrolled through the three texts, and one missed call.
I decided to open the most manageable text first. I had one from Eden asking if I could meet her for lunch tomorrow. I typed out my response, telling her to meet me at the bakery tomorrow at noon, and I’d make us a couple sandwiches. After sending it off, I braved the next set of texts.
Peach. I’m sorry.
Where are you? I’d love a chance to talk.
The last notification was a missed call from Brant about an hour ago. I stood there in the silence of my kitchen, debating if I should text him back. Did I want to talk? Did I want to hear that this woman was who he was with and he was only being friendly whenever we’d interacted over the last few months?
Deciding not to respond, I shoved my phone in my pocket and made my way to the back door. Once outside, I shut the door and locked it. When I spun around, my hand flew to my chest, and a gasp escaped my lips.
There by my car was none other than Brant. He was partially sitting on the side of the hood with one leg crossed over the other at his ankle. His hands were stuffed in his front pockets, and he was staring right at me. His hair looked disheveled like he”d been running his hands through it.
When our gazes finally met, there was a look in Brant”s eyes that I couldn”t quite place. It was almost unreadable. I couldn”t tell if he was mad, upset, or maybe just emotionally detached because he was here to tell me the redhead was his girlfriend.
”You didn”t text or call me back,” Brant”s voice came out gravelly, like it took effort to force the words out.
I debated how I should respond to his statement. Did I need to explain myself, or should I just ignore him?
”I was busy,” I tossed out with a shrug of my shoulders. I desperately tried to come across as unfazed but wasn”t sure I’d been successful.
Based on the mischievous glint that formed in Brant”s eyes, I wasn”t pulling it off.
”I see that,” he said as he pushed off my car and took three large strides before stopping in front of me.
Watching him stalk toward me in his uniform with his large frame was a little unnerving. It felt almost like a prey being hunted by a predator.
I took a small step back but never dropped my gaze from his.
His hand slowly moved to the side of my cheek, where he used his fingers to brush what must have been flour off my face. I should have known I”d look like a hot mess. It was impossible to stay clean when I was baking. The gentle touch of his finger lit a fire across my skin from the contact. Finally, I dipped my head, breaking eye contact with him before taking another small step back. I bumped into the wall, leaning against it, hoping it would support me.
Brant”s hand moved from my cheek until his fingers were below my chin and his thumb caressed my jaw, while lifting my head to meet his gaze. He placed his other hand against the brick wall just above my head. Every part of him was surrounding me.
”Brant,” I whispered.
”I”m sorry, Peach,” Brant whispered, bringing his face dangerously close to mine.
If I didn”t know better, I”d think he was going to kiss me. Did I want that? Well, of course, I did—but I really needed to know who the mystery girl was.
”How”s your friend?” The words came out in a shy whisper as my eyes darted to the side.
”Look at me, Peach,” Brant”s firm yet kind command had my eyes trailing back to his. ”She”s not my friend.”
I couldn”t control the swift rush of disappointment that coursed through my body. I was about to pull my face from his grasp when he continued.
”It”s a long story that I will tell you one day, but right now, all that matters is you know she doesn”t mean anything to me. She’s someone from my past that I”d like to stay in the past,” his words held a hint of bitterness in them, and the look in his eyes told me I could trust him.
”Okay.”
A sigh of relief escaped my mouth before Brant”s lips landed on mine. His touch was gentle as he moved his hands to cup my cheeks, deepening the kiss. This was a kiss like none I”ve ever experienced. His lips were soft and sweet, promising so much more. As our lips moved in sync, time seemed to stand still in that fleeting instant, and the world faded away.
My heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and excitement. This was really happening. After months of not knowing how he felt, I”d say this laid it all out there pretty well.
Slowly, Brant pulled his lips away only to lean back down for two more quick kisses. He pressed his forehead to mine while we took a few seconds to catch our breath. When my gaze met his, I was taken aback by the emotion in his eyes. Maybe I hadn”t been imagining the sparks between us all this time.
Brant”s hands slowly dropped from my face, but before I could mourn the loss of his heat, they slid down my arms, and he grabbed one of my hands in his and led me to my car.
”It”s late. You should get home, and I need to get back to the station,” Brant”s deep voice whispered quietly in my ear.
After opening the driver”s door, I turned around and gave Brant a small smile.
”Goodnight,” I whispered.
”Night, Peach. Merry Christmas.”
My stomach did a few flips at the new nickname. Outside of my parents, I hadn”t had anyone give me a name of endearment. I wasn”t sure what caused Brant to use the word peach, but I could honestly say I didn”t hate it.