Chapter 24 #2
“You remember how Gus mentioned that I bought some land recently?”
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me about this.”
I give her hand a quick squeeze over the center console. “I know, I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to mention it in case the planning permission didn’t go through.”
She smiles up at me. “That’s fine. So, what are you planning on doing with this land? Build something to house your ego?”
“Or your audacity,” I fire back.
My low laugh seems to harmonize with her light one.
“So then what happened with this to get you in such a good mood?”
“The planning request got approved.”
“That’s incredible!” she cries, slapping my shoulder playfully.
I nod, my chest puffing slightly at the sliver of pride that runs along it. “I’m going to build my dream home. Settle down. Hopefully raise a family there one day.”
There’s a moment of silence, but because I’m on a tricky bit of road, I’m unable to look over at Oakleigh and see what she’s feeling.
So, I settle for asking her, hoping that I’ll hear the truth in her voice. “You’ve gone quiet. Everything okay?”
She hums in acknowledgment but otherwise stays silent. Something tells me that I’ve said something wrong, but I retrace my steps and find nothing. Unless…
“Wait, does the thought of me settling down bother you?”
“What?” she snaps. “Hell, no. Why would it?”
We’re past the part that requires most of my attention, so I chance a glance over to her.
“You’re mad.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Tell that to your face.”
Her head snaps away from me to look out the window. If I wasn’t currently so confused about the why, I would laugh at her reaction.
“Oakleigh.” She shifts her body away from me. “Baby, come on.”
“There’s nothing for me to ‘come on’ about.”
I let out a deep breath and try and collect my emotions. I can’t force her to talk about something she doesn’t want to, even though I’m essentially desperate to know what about me settling down has her so put out.
An idea pops into my head.
“Mind if we stop off somewhere first?”
She shrugs. “Sure.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me and make a turn at the next junction, heading toward Eaglewood.
* * *
Doughnut Miss This is honestly the best bakery to ever exist. Lori is truly an artist. It’s amazing the things she makes up with a rolling pin and an oven.
My favorite is the same as Gus’s—the lemon and elderflower tart.
It was originally meant to be a seasonal thing, but as a thank you to Gus for giving her the catering experience at Oakleigh’s birthday, she makes them out of season purely for him , and now me, too.
Oakleigh’s favorite is—unsurprisingly—the cherry pie.
I pull up right outside and put the car in park.
I hop out first, making my way round to the passenger side to open the door for Oakleigh.
I offer her my hand to help her out, but being her stubborn self, she swats it aside and gets out on her own.
She stands and throws me a challenging eyebrow raise, then glides over to the bakery, and I swear she’s swaying those hips more than usual knowing full well that I’m staring.
I smile to myself with a shake of my head and follow her inside.
Lori is a shy girl from Pennsylvania who moved here to escape the life she grew up in.
Each time I come in here, I make the time to talk to her.
She always seems so down, so scared of everything around her, so I try and offer a kind smile every now and then.
What the life is that she grew up with, I’m not sure, she never opened up that much, but I haven’t had the urge to push. Her business is hers.
When she sees me come in, she pushes her round glasses up her nose and beams. “Hey, Finn!” Oakleigh throws me a cautious look, then throws it toward Lori, as if she’s trying to ascertain what kind of relationship is between the two of us.
Just to rile her up a little, I send her a wink and return my attention to Lori.
“Hey, Lori. How are we today?”
“Much better,” she replies, already putting two slices of cherry pie into containers. “That cold really took it out of me, but I was closed yesterday anyway so I had a chance to rest.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
I move further into her store—yellow and white walls, a marble counter and display case, and along one wall, a breakfast bar with yellow stools. I lean against the counter just as Lori runs into the back of the shop.
“You two seem close,” Oakleigh says.
I roll my lips to hide the smile that’s growing. “Jealous, Cherry?”
She scoffs, but it’s weak. “Please. You can screw whoever you want.”
I no longer bother to hide the smile on my face.
I push off of the counter and move closer.
I enjoy the way she tracks the movements, every step I take acknowledged by her beautiful brown eyes.
She’s leaning against another part of the counter, her lower back digging into the marble.
I leave enough space between us for me to bend over so my eyes are level with her, my hands leaning on the counter, caging her in.
I watch her, she watches me, hazel v brown.
“So now I’m screwing her?” I flick away a strand of hair that covers part of her face. “My, my, what is going on in that head of yours?”
She looks up at me through hooded lids, and the sultry glare does something to me that makes me want to lift her up and eat her like one of Lori’s pastries.
My smile vanishes as I stare at her lips—thick, glossy, and I bet tasting of cherries.
She licks her lips and I bite my bottom lip in response.
Everything between us is charged, electric.
I can’t decipher what between us is fake to her anymore because every reaction she has seems too real.
I lean in closer and Lee’s breath hitches.
God, I love it when it does that. That little bit of proof that I affect her just like she affects me.
I tilt my head, ready to finish what this moment seems to have started.
“You’re the only one I’m looking at, Cherry, baby. Don’t forget that.”
I move to lean the rest of the way, but Lori’s voice cuts through the moment like a scratch on a CD.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted two or three tarts, so I just put tw—” She stops when she sees us, but not because it’s clear I was about to kiss her. Lori’s face turns into a very stern look that I very rarely see. “Finley Southwick! Get your big tree frame off of my glass display case!”
She rushes over and swats at my hands. I send her a disarming smile. “Sorry, Lori. Won’t happen again.” I take the bag with the tarts and the pie. “Two is perfect. We don’t want to make me fat now do we?”
“No better thing to get fat on than tarts and pie,” Lori sings. She rings us up and I pay what we owe and I promise her I’ll be by again in a few days. Oakleigh gives her a really awkward goodbye before rushing out the store. Her cheeks are bright red, and I think embarrassment looks good on her.