CRAVE: A Small Town Menage Romance (Reckless Falls Book 4) Page 2

  I was too.

  We'd sunk everything into this move. A fresh start for both of us, and I believed with all of my heart that we were on to something. Moving to Reckless Falls right as it was poised to go from dusty old family vacation spot to a world-class, high end resort town, that could only be good for us. I knew Jackson was looking to earn his second four-star chef rating, and me, I was ready to use all the shit I'd learned about making money for other people to start making some money for myself.

  "Let me see you out," I said to the line cook with a sigh. She wouldn't meet my eyes as I led her through the unfinished front end. The smell of just-cut lumber and the strangely astringent scent of unhung drywall hung in the air. The front atrium was still hung with plastic to keep out the elements, and I ducked under it first to sweep it out of her way.

  It was only then that I saw the red spots blazing on her cheek. "He's a fucking asshole," she hissed furiously.

  I took a deep breath. "I know," I told her, in all seriousness. "But he's a genius. And he's never wrong."

  She stared at me, openmouthed as I opened the door. "Good luck," I told her.

  Then I let the door close and dug the heels of my hands into my eyeballs before I headed into my unfinished office to yell at a few of our suppliers.

  After what felt like only minutes, the plastic that hung in my office doorway crinkled. "Are you ever coming out of there?" Jackson asked.

  I leaned back in my chair and stretched. "Why?"

  "Because I'm heading out."

  "What time is it?"

  "Two thirty in the morning."

  I rubbed my eyes furiously. "Jesus. How?"

  Jackson shrugged.

  "Jesus," I repeated, leaning back in my chair. “This place eats time. And here I thought I'd have a new hire to celebrate..." I glared at him

  "She wasn't right," Jackson repeated from the other side of the plastic sheeting. "All flash. No foundation in the basics. If that's the kind of bullshit graduate the Culinary Institute is putting out these days, I need to give Tom a call."

  I looked up, pressing my lips together to keep the torrent of anxiety from spilling out. "Okay," I finally said, shoving the plastic aside and heading back out into our raw space. "So we're supposed to be opening in time to catch the height of the summer season." I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "But, Jacky-boy—" Jackson's eyes narrowed at this hated nickname, so of course I made sure to use it again. "Jacky-boy, can I be frank with you? You're fucking everything up."

  He regarded me with that same amused grin he always wore. Like this was all a big joke and didn't matter to him because he knew I'd fix it.

  And most of the time he was right.

  "You told me that I was in charge of hiring the kitchen staff, Finn."

  "Yeah, but when I said that, I thought you might actually fucking hire someone."

  "No one in this shit town knows how to julienne a carrot much less cook a steak sous-vide."

  I glared at him. He shook his head. "Don't fucking say it."

  You could have hired half the staff at your old place if you'd just played nice. "I'm not saying it," I said. I'd already said it a billion times before.

  Jackson's lip curled. "Yeah but you're thinking it loud and clear."

  "You know I'm right."

  "Nothing wrong with burned bridges, so long as you're on the right side," he intoned loftily.

  "Jacky-boy you didn't burn them. You fucking nuked them from orbit."

  "Yeah well," he mumbled. And without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back to the half-done kitchen.

  I took a deep breath. We'd been working sixteen hour days. I was hemorrhaging money like crazy and Jackson still hadn't worked out a menu he was happy with. The opening date I'd announced in all the press releases, the one that had seemed to comfortably far away, was closing in fast. Only a month to go.

  I sighed again, rubbing my eyes, and when I opened them again, it was like I'd seen the light.

  The light next door that was.

  She was working.

  Indigo was situated in a prime location in a new strip of waterfront development carved out of an old marina. All around us were the shells of new construction, some finished, some still unfinished and looming over us like dinosaurs skeletons in a museum.

  But there was one place that was open and ready for business and it sat right next door to us, across a shared alleyway that led to the back. The huge plate glass window I'd had installed here on the corner to give the widest possible view of the water also gave a pretty nice view of Honey Bee's, a sweet little bakery run by her.

  Her. That's what I called her, because I didn't know her name. I just knew that seeing her bustle around in her shop at night — baking all those sweet things in preparation for the morning — was the brightest damn spot in my day lately.

  Maybe once the restaurant opened I'd have time to go over there and actually say hello.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jackson

  "Staring at Beatrix again?" I asked.

  Finn nearly jumped out of his skin. "Fucker, aren't you wearing clogs?" he demanded. "How'd you sneak up on me like that?"

  I suppressed a laugh. Finn didn't like when people laughed at him. Which was fucked up because I pretty much laughed at anything. "I didn't sneak," I said instead. "You were just too wrapped up in staring at your baker."

  "The hell you talking about?" he scoffed. But he backed away from the window anyway.

  "Hey, I don't blame you," I told him, going to the window myself. I couldn't see into her shop from this angle, but I knew she was there because her beat up Taurus was parked in the alleyway, its rear end covered in bumper stickers. I liked how she wore her ideals out in the open like that. Like she wanted to waste no time in letting the world know who she was. "Beatrix is a cutie."

  Finn had been leaning up against the window pane, smudging his face against the glass, which made me wrinkle my nose and look around for the glass cleaner. But when I said that, he launched upright. "How do you know her name?" he asked.

  I licked my lips. There was no way I was answering that question. "I have my ways."

  "You're creepy, dude."

  I spread my hands. "I'm proactive."

  "So..."

  "So... what?" I prodded. I knew where he was going with this. Hell, it had been on my mind ever since the first night I saw his head whip around when he heard her car pull up.

  "Are you...?" I could tell he didn't want to finish that sentence.

  I didn't really want him to finish the sentence either. Once he put it out in the open like this, it'd be a done deal. We had an agreement.

  "Am I going after her?" I chuckled, then looked back out the window. "Haven't made up my mind yet," I lied. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

  He licked his lips.

  "Aha!" I crowed, pointing at him. "You're thinking about it too! Good. That's great."

  "Why is it great?"

  "Because," I said, grinning. "I was worried your dick had fallen off."

  "Fuck you," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're the one with the hang-ups."

  "It hasn't been that long," I protested.

  "Since Mercy," he interrupted. "Mercy the Merciless."

  "Yes," I gritted, trying not to sound annoyed and failing miserably. "Since my fiancée."

  "Ex-fiancée."

  "Yes, Finn. I know. It's really not necessary to remind me every damn day."

  "I want to make sure you never go back to that bloodsucker." He looked back out the window. "And if making sure of that means I'm gonna let you have this one, then I'll do it."

  "Excuse me? Let me? You're the one who gets so wrapped up in work he turns into a monk."

  He cupped his groin. "I'll show you a monk."

  I smiled, happy to see him all riled up like this. If nothing else, at least he was thinking of something else besides work. Even if that something else was punching me in the face.

 
"I don't need you to do me any favors, buddy," he seethed. I couldn't keep the smile off my face, which only got him more worked up. Finn Walker was usually unflappable, cool under pressure. The kind of guy who got shit done. He didn't get riled easily.

  It was a matter of knowing what buttons to press. "I know you've been out of the game since coming up here," I went on. "Thought I'd back off and see if you still have any game left."

  Finn looked like he wanted to strangle me. "I do just fine on my own."

  "Oh really?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Then why have you been staring at her for the past few weeks but you didn't even know her name?"

  He opened his mouth, ready to fire back some smartass answer. I waited, honestly eager to hear whatever excuse he was trying to make. Yeah, the restaurant was taking up all our time. Yeah it was a bitch to get everything perfect. But that was no excuse. Finn was good at this shit. Too good. He lost himself in the details, needing to control every second of his life. I'm sure he took a look at Beatrix and penciled down a note to himself in his planner to chat her up between 5:45 and 5:57 PM on a Tuesday three months from now.

  He blinked at me, his nostrils flaring. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited some more. "Okay fine," he finally exploded. "I'll go for it." Then he looked at me askance. "And you're cool with that? We have..."

  "An agreement," I finished. "I know." I was starting to regret pressing him so hard.

  "Last time you and I went for the same chick..."

  "I punched you in the face," I said. "I know."

  "You broke my nose," he pointed out.

  "It's really not necessary to remind me every damn day.

  He grinned. "Touché. We're better as a team than as rivals anyway."

  "For whatever reason, you're right," I agreed.

  "So?"

  I looked up at him and shrugged. There was this weird sinking feeling in my chest. I flexed my fingers, feeling like something was slipping through them and I closed my fist before I lost hold of it completely. When I opened my mouth to tell him that it was fine, I was fine, go for it, I was surprised to hear what came out instead. "Let's see what happens, huh?" I said slowly, as casually as I could.

  Over my shoulder, the light in the back of the bakery flicked on. I could see Beatrix's head bobbing. If her body was as half as incredible as the curves of her silhouette advertised, I was in deep fucking trouble. "We have enough shit to figure out without making this complicated too," I said to Finn, as carefully as I could.

  He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes again, suppressing a yawn. "You're right," he said.

  I nodded, feeling relieved. "I am."

  "But you're also an asshole," he pointed out.

  "I am that too."

  He looked up at the ceiling in defeat. "Why the fuck do I put up with you?"

  I shrugged again with a grin. "Because I'm Jackson Nye. I'm a fucking genius."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bee

  By the time I was done cleaning the front of my store, I had a headache from the solvent. I'd probably need to come back in the daylight and make sure I didn't miss any spots, but right now I really needed to finish my baking.

  I opened the back door to my kitchen to let out some of the heat and got to work, mixing and dividing and rolling out the dough for the honey buns. When I had six trays laid out I opened my shiny new industrial oven and closed my eyes against the blast of heat. I was getting much better at setting up my racks, and it was a little sad how proud I was when everything lined up right the first time.

  I slammed the oven door shut, inhaling deeply, expecting to fill my lungs with the smell of my honey buns baking.

  "Oh God, what's that?" I said aloud in my empty kitchen.

  I sniffed again. The odor of reeking, rotting garbage was faint, but still overpowering enough to drown out the smell of the baking buns.

  "Oh God," I sighed. "Not again."

  I turned in a slow circle, taking in several things at once. The first thing was the overflowing garbage can in the corner of the store that I needed to take out before I opened.

  And the second was the smell of the garbage wafting through the open back door.

  The garbage in the dumpster that apparently hadn't been picked up for the second week in a row.

  "Tonight can go fuck itself," I declared vehemently. For a moment, I just stood there paralyzed. Waiting. Waiting for someone to come swooping in to take care of me.

  But there wasn't anyone, and I had no one to blame but myself.

  "I can take care of myself," I said aloud. That's what I'd told Zach as I ripped the ring off my finger and flung it into the woods. I'd rather be alone than be with you.

  I never realized being alone was so... lonely.

  I sniffled, feeling sorry for myself, and when I did, the odor of garbage filled my nostrils again. When I contracted with the waste management company, they promised that they would do their pick up here at my bakery first, since I started work so early in the morning. But here it was, nearly 5 AM, and they still weren't here. And if what had happened last week was any indication, that meant they wouldn't be coming at all.

  I leaned back on my heel, spinning a slow pirouette that would have made my mother proud, twisting in a circle of indecision. There was no way that I could have my garbage piled in the corner if and when people started walking into the shop, and I opened in an hour. I needed to do something with the morning's garbage, but a full dumpster would make that impossible.

  I looked again out through the open backdoor. It opened to a black top alley, shared by all the new stores and restaurants that were popping up along the strip. Each plot was separated by nothing more than a low chain-link fence.

  And on the other side of that fence from my shop was a giant, completely empty dumpster belonging to Finn's restaurant.

  Did I dare?

  Yeah, I dared.

  The timer on my buns would go off in fifteen minutes. That should give me just enough time to pack up the garbage, and see if my fence jumping skills were still as good as they used to be back home. There was no one out and about at 5 AM in Reckless Falls to see me committing... wait, was garbage fraud even a thing?

  It didn't matter. One bag? Finn would never even notice the difference. He didn't even know I existed.

  That's what I told myself as I grabbed the full bag and tied it off. I slung it over my shoulder then rushed out the back door.

  The stars still twinkled on the western horizon but in the east, a faint line of blue was gathering, a mirror image of the sunset I'd watched eight hours earlier. My eyes were scratchy with lack of sleep. Anxiety and stress buzzed in my veins like caffeine.

  I stood at the fence, gathering up my courage for a second before tossing the bag over, and scaling the fence between our properties.

  I landed with a thud on the other side of the fence, rolling my ankle. I hissed in pain, then hopped over to the dumpster. Praying that it wouldn't squeak, I lifted the lid carefully.

  "And just what do you think you're doing?" came a low voice from the shadows.

  I jumped like I been scalded, slamming the lid shut and dropping the bag of garbage to the ground where it flopped open, letting out the smell of rancid milk and butter way past its prime. Embarrassment thudded in my ears. Of all the ways I had imagined finally meeting Finn Walker, this was by far the worst of my nightmares.

  I turned slowly to see a piece of shadow separate itself from the black mass. "My next-door neighbor is a thief?" the shadow drawled.

  My nose twitched a little. Sure, Finn was handsome, but that didn't give him permission to be a dick.

  I drew myself up standing taller. "You scared me," I called.

  The shadow stepped into the light a little more, and I sucked in my breath to see dark eyes, full lips, and dark hair.

  "You're not Finn!" I burst out and then snapped my mouth shut.

  He gave a slow, easy grin that did something strange to my stomach. I took an involuntary s
tep backwards, unable to keep myself from staring at him.

  He was tall, probably a foot taller than me, with dark straight hair just a little too long for my tastes. It flopped into his eyes and he ran his fingers through it as he stared me down, like he wanted to make sure he had a clear view of my embarrassment.

  I swallowed. He was dressed in chef's whites. So he must be a one of Finn's workers. But what the hell was he doing here so late? Or rather, so early? "You shouldn't be hanging around in the dark like a creeper," I finally managed to gasp.

  "Well," he said, turning to the back step and grabbing a Styrofoam cup that was sitting there. He looked me up and down in a way that made my skin tingle at the same time it made my blood run cold as he took a slow sip. "At least I'm not trespassing," he finally drawled.

  Red flashed across my vision, and my blood heated up. I felt my fists clench as my heart started to pound. A voice that sounded like my mother's echoed in my head, small and distant, watch that temper of yours, Beatrix Noelle, but it vanished as the full force of this shitty day hit me. "Don't be a fucking asshole!" I screeched. "I've had a bad fucking day and the sun hasn't even come up yet!"

  Then I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh my god, oh my god I am so sorry," I said, burying my face in my hands and wishing like hell that the ground would just swallow me up.

  "Don't be," he said. I opened my eyes to see that he was still grinning, but this time it seemed different. Like, less amused and more... impressed? "It's been a shitty day all around."

  "I bet mine was worse," I grumbled petulantly.

  "Yeah? Tell me why."

  I looked back up again. The sky had lightened enough so that I could see the way his eyes were sliding down over my body. I flushed deep red and opened my mouth to shout at him again when the door opened.

  "Jacky-boy? Where the fuck did you go?"

  And if my face was red before, now it had to be deep purple. Because of course Finn Walker was peering out of the restaurant. And of course his eyes landed on me. Of course I now had two devastatingly gorgeous men staring at me while I stood there, breathless and sweaty, half covered in black spray paint, reeking of solvent and standing over stinking garbage.