“Why are you here so early?” I shout through the glass.
He’s not smiling, but he’s not exactly frowning either. He’s definitely scowling though, like me asking him why he’s posted up against my building isn’t as alarming as it is.
His breath fogs up the glass, every puff angrier than the first. But still… he doesn’t answer me.
Finally, I get myself together and carefully unlatch the door, letting him in only because it’s freezing temperatures outside.
“How long have you been out there?”
He growls under his breath, “Long enough.”
“You’re going to catch a cold sitting out there all night like that.”
He only shrugs, then makes his way to the farthest corner of my shop and sits down, the chair screeching against the floor beneath him.
“Krampus…”
“I told you to call me Rich,” he grits out, mouth clenching in frustration.
“Okay, fine! Rich, why are you here?”
“Can’t a guy want a pastry in the morning?”
“Sure? But I don’t open for another few hours. What gives?”
He looks away from me, watching the door like he’s expecting a war.
“Are you planning on sitting there all day?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
My hand immediately goes to my hip. “And you’re not going to tell me why?”
He shakes his head. “The less you know, the better.”
If there’s one thing that really makes me mad, it’s when people keep things from me, and he’s obviously keeping something big, because the man’s in definite defense mode right now.
“Rich, if you’re gonna post up in my shop like this, I at least need to know why.”
He briefly looks my way, then looks back at the window, crossing his arms defiantly.
“This is loitering, you know?”
He nods.
“I could call the police on you.”
He shrugs, refusing to say anything more.
“You are the most aggravating man I have ever met. I hope you know that.”
And the guy does something even more infuriating… he winks. Not a cool, calm, and collected wink either. A full on sexy as fudge wink that sends my ovaries into overdrive. The instantbaby maker wink you only see in movies. Cookies for him doing this.
He smirks as I stomp away, my frustration doubling as lust as I make my way upstairs to take a shower. Part of me wishes he would join me. The other part of me wants to throw him out into the cold again. But I don’t. Outside, it was freezing. Inside isn’t much better. The shop’s heat is minimal at best, so the man isn’t going to get much warmer loitering in my lobby. I hope his boy nips freeze into tiny little peaks and… and… ahh, shortbread! The more I think about his nipples being hard, the more turned on I get.
That’s the difficult part of being celibate for far too long. The last time my lady parts got a good workout was years ago. Five, if you want to be specific. I’m not the kind of girl who just opens her legs for anyone. When I choose a guy, it’s because I’m genuinely attracted to him and in a monogamous, serious relationship.
My last boyfriend and I were together for five years before we broke up. We were on the fast track to marriage, babies, the whole fudging gambit of forever bliss, and just like burned cookies, the man fried my heart in an oven, leaving me alone and single right before the holidays. It was devastating! I baked at least a hundred desserts that night, taking my frustration out on pastry instead of him. Calvin Moot didn’t deserve my tears or my heartache, but that’s just what he got that Christmas, along with a long, sad letter begging for him back.
