Chapter Four
Noah
I stand outside Bobbi’s bakery. She said she was building her dream...but what she’s really built is a catnip factory.
Bobbi’s Sweet Things. A bakery filled with amazing treats that only she can create. It’s been difficult to resist stopping by since the place opened.
I could always go to a different bakery. It isn’t like Los Angeles is lacking options. But none of them is Bobbi’s dream. And none of them makes me wish I’d reacted differently back then. Now all I’ve got is regret for what I’ve done—and grief for the loss of all we could’ve been, but weren’t because I was terrified of the darkness my secret life could bring.
Bobbi’s Sweet Things is psychological warfare at its finest, and nothing I’ve gone through in life has prepared me for it. If I didn’t know better, I might think Bobbi was working for the enemy.
Even the location is diabolical—right near GrantEm Capital, my brothers’ VC firm, which still has a lot of my money. I’ve thought of different ways to approach her, but the only option that feels right is to act like nothing’s wrong. Shameless, but it’s better than lying about why I missed the opening party.
I simply cannot tell her the truth. So it’s best I don’t bring it up at all, shove our past under the rug and try to smooth things over. I screwed up badly, but Bobbi has feelings for me. Despite her tough exterior, she’s too soft inside to ignore my efforts.
Yeah, but when a woman as sweet as Bobbi decides to cut you out of her life—
I short-circuit the thought, then kick it out of my mind. Don’t need that kind of negativity before a critical mission. Although it’s just recon for the moment—gotta figure out how deep of a hole I’m in before I can build a ladder tall enough to get myself out.
Pasting a shit-eating grin on my face, I walk in. I made sure to look my best because I’m aware of the impact my appearance can have. Women always check me out, and I’ve caught Bobbi staring more than once. On top of that, I know exactly which of my assets she likes the most. I’m in a shirt that emphasizes the width of my shoulders. My jeans are fashionably worn and fit to show off the musculature of my long legs. My hair is neatly cropped and styled to look careless without appearing sloppy.
The place smells of sweets and home. She’s always had a magical ability to make me feel like I can take an easy breath and let my guard down.
You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t spit in your face, you bastard.
I’m okay with that. Anger is better than apathy, although given her deafening silence over the last twelve months, her reaction to seeing me again might involve more than just some spit. I haven’t forgotten that kick she delivered in Mexico.
Bobbi turns her beautiful face, and our eyes meet…
Boom-boom-boom, my heart thunders. I realize that until now it’s been barely functioning on life support without her. She looks even more amazing—and happy.
Although that happiness is rapidly vanishing from her face faster than water on a sun-roasted rock in Death Valley.
“Hi.” I smile.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Her words shake with barely suppressed fury.
Hallelujah. I can still make her feel something. “Hey, babe,” I say with all the joy I feel at being in her presence again.
Her burnt-caramel eyes narrow dangerously. “Don’t youhey babeme.”
Is it fucked up that I want to hug her? Even knowing she’s probably fantasizing about throttling me, I want to tell her how much I love her because it’s the most honest thing I can say. “Sorry, my light, that wasn’t appropriate. You’re a goddess, not some mere babe.”
Her hands curl into fists. If there were a rolling pin nearby, she’d grab it and try to brain me. Actually, forget rolling pins. If I were closer, she’d just swing and break my beak.
Not that I can allow that. My pretty face is one of the reasons she likes me. But she can punch the other parts…well, some of them, anyway.
“I was in the neighborhood and had a craving for croissants. I’ve heard great things about your bakery. And listen, congratulations! Really. You’ve done an amazing job here.” I mean it sincerely. I’m so proud of her for doing what she set out to do. Plus, I’m happy she’s no longer somebody’s bullet catcher. Mom told me I needed to toe the line, but I really should’ve done more than sic the IRS on that Instagram model client of hers. That idiot bitch staged a fake stalking and kidnapping for likes and shares, except she was too brainless to use blanks. Bobbi took one in her belly while protecting her client like the top-notch pro bodyguard that she was. Since Mom vetoed shooting the moron, I should’ve poisoned her. There are so many substances that can give you heart failure.
“Thankyou,” Bobbi says with a smile, although her eyes scream,Fuck you and your fashionably distressed jeans!“Unfortunately, we’re all out of croissants.”
“You are?” I point at a tray, which has four left.
Her smile remains frozen as she pulls out a paper bag with the Bobbi’s Sweet Things logo and places all the croissants in it.
“How did you know I wanted four?” I tease with a wink, hoping to coax a genuine reaction out of her. It doesn’t have to be anything big, but even a crack would be enough to start thawing her out.
A sharp glint flashes in her eyes. “I didn’t. See, these are croissants reserved for somebody else.”
