Fall isn’t the same in L.A.
It’s only a short walk to the Butter Bliss, but when I see it, I stumble. Rex reaches out to steady me as we approach the entrance. It’s been blocked off with caution tape and steel barricades, which probably won’t keep everyone out of the bakery, since there’s always someone who thinks it’s okay to trespass.
That’s when I see Boomer. He’s the sheriff and Scythe’s brother. He nods to me as if he knows what I’m thinking. It’s a relief to see security, because it means no one will be hurt or trampling the bakery’s ashes. “She can go in. It’s secure enough.”
Rex doesn’t look happy about it, but he thanks Boomer before leading me around the back to the employee entrance. I use the key to let us in, and gasp. It’s worse from this side.
The bakery is burned to a crisp, blackened and charred until it’s unrecognizable. Nothing about the pink and white décor remains. It’s an ugly, dead thing now—a burial site for the Butter Bliss.
It’s so shocking that I can’t hold the emotion inside. A cry leaves my lips, and Rex steps towards me. I launch myself into his chest, clutching at his flannel shirt as the tears fill my eyes and overflow.
“It’s gone,” I blubber.
Of course, I knew that already. But it’s one thing to be told about it and another to see it. All the hard work we put into the Butter Bliss. The years we spent making memories. These walls will never smell like vanilla and cinnamon again. They’ll never witness the happy customers who ooh and ahh over the baked goods we set out each day.
Rex’s arms slowly envelop me in his embrace. He murmurs soft words as his hand soothes the sorrow building inside me, smoothing over my back as he comforts me. I feel his lips press to the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Blissy Girl.”
Wait.
This is Rex. I can’t be in his arms.
The moment is shattered as I push away from him, dashing my fingers under my eyes to wipe away the tears. I hate that I’m crying, but it also feels appropriate. I’m mourning the loss of something that means a lot to my family and me. Rebuilding won’t be the same. It’ll never be the shop I grew up in, helping my mother and Granny Jo in the kitchen, trying new recipes. Smelling like brown sugar and spices. Tasting the first bites of buttercream frosting after it’s whipped.
I sniffle and hiccup as I pull my phone out of my purse and start taking photos. I’m meticulous for our records, taking much longer than necessary to get what we need. It takes me that long to recover from the shock of seeing the bakery in ruins.
“Hello?”
I turn around and find two people entering the bakery.
The first is a stranger. He looks around the interior and then at me. “I’m the insurance agent Josephine Carter called. My name is Gary. Are you Camille?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He moves forward as I see Emma Johnston saunter toward Rex. She swings her hips like she’s ringing a goddamn dinnerbell. I don’t have time for her or whatever drama she’s got going on with Rex.
I turn to the insurance agent. “Walk me through the process.”
Chapter 7 Mountain
Istare at Hannah as she enters the bakery after the insurance agent, Gary, introduces himself. The first thing she does is smile at Cami like she’s trying to start shit. After the drama she caused three years ago, I want to kick her out and tell her to fuck off.
“Hey, Rex.”
“Hi.” I know Cami is watching even if she’s talking to Gary. I can see the side-eye she’s giving us, thinking I’m fucking Hannah or something when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I don’t find anything attractive about this bitch. And sheisa bitch. After the way she treated Cami during the festival three years ago, I haven’t spoken to her more than a handful of times. I’ve gone out of my way to avoid her.
This shit she’s pulling now? I don’t get it.
Gary’s deep in conversation with Cami and looks her over with an appreciative gaze, not at all bothered to handle the claim with a pretty woman. Fucker.
She’s mine.I want to growl the words, and I fucking can’t say a damn thing. Cami would lose her shit.
I sort of want to rile her up on purpose just to see her reaction, but I won’t do that to her after the emotional roller coaster she’s had over the last two days. It’s enough to set anyone on edge, and I don’t blame her for being moody or weepy.
Maybe I have a savior complex because I can’t get the idea out of my head that I can solve all her problems for her. It’s controlling, I know. But I want to be the shoulder she leans on, cries on, and finds her strength. Holding her in my arms as she broke down felt so fucking right; it’s messing with my head.There’s a part of me that wants to kidnap her, take her to my house, and fuck the hate right outta her.
It’s goddamn tempting because we need our second chance. I firmly believe that.
I’m not paying attention to Hannah at all, listening to Gary as he speaks.
