Back in myapartment above the bakery, I walk straight to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and lean against the wall, sliding down as I process what just happened.
I’m hot and flustered and it has nothing to do with my attempt at exercise and everything to do with him: Bear. I know it’s not his real name, but it suits him. His huge, muscled stature and wide frame make him look a little bear-like. He could wrap his arms around me and crush me like a grape. Instead of that being something that should put me on edge, I feel the stirrings of desire low in my stomach.
It takes me a moment to recognise it, the slow burn making its way through me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything close to arousal, and now I’ve met two men in two days who have awoken that sleeping part of me. Hormones, that must be whatit is. The two encounters have been so close together that there’s no other explanation.
It's perfectly normal for a woman to feel desire for two men at the same time. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy sexual relationship. Imagining myself as the woman in question is where I have the problem. I’d thought that Jake was my entire life, so I had never imagined myself with anyone else. Our relationship is over, but I can’t rid myself of the feeling that I shouldn’t feel this way about other men. Not that it’s men in general – only these two specific guys.
I think of Clay from the bar last night, with his intense stare, tattoos stark against his pale skin. My mind switches, and I am suddenly imagining that Bear has my back pinned against his chest, his grip firm but not painful. The owner of the bar steps closer so I’m pressed between the two of them, his hand raising to trail across my exposed collar bone, dragging it down my suddenly naked body. I’m unable to move thanks to Bear’s hold. All I can do is wait as that finger is dragged all the way down to the apex of my thighs…
My phone dings loudly from my back pocket, startling me out of my little daydream.
Am I that sex starved that I would have sex with two strangers at the same time?
Hmm. The immediate answer isn’t no, which should probably alarm me more than it does. Geez, I need to cool off before I go around propositioning strangers in town. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I throw it onto the bed and strip off, grabbing a towel and going to take a very, very cold shower.
SEVEN
HOLLY
Walking towards the bakery door, I try to juggle the boxes in my arms and tackle opening the door without dropping them. I’m laden with boxes of cupcakes ready for the school fete up at the Hinton Institute. They hire me every year to make the cakes for the event, when they open their doors to the public and prospective students.
I should really make several trips to my car, but in my chaotic decision-making, I decided that I could manage them all in one go. That is something I am beginning to question now.
“Holly, do you need a hand?” Tina, one of my bakers, asks from the back of the bakery as she watches me balancing on one leg while pushing open the glass door with my other.
“No, I’ve got it. Thank you!”
She doesn’t look convinced, and she’s right not to be, as I don’t, in fact, ‘have it’. Foot slipping, the heavy glass door swings towards me at speed and I do the only thing I can. I catch it with my arse. Sticking my bum out, the blow is cushioned by myample behind. Bum shuffling backward out of the bakery, I smile at my staff and pretend everything is fine.
Finally, I’m outside, the door swinging shut. Taking a deep breath, I enjoy the feel of the breeze cooling my burning cheeks. I’m friends with everyone that works in the bakery and they know me well enough to be used to my behaviour. At least I didn’t drop the cakes.
Turning, I start towards my car, only to smash into a rigid chest.
“Oh shit!” Bouncing back, I fall to the ground straight onto my ass. Several boxes tumble off the top of the stack in my arms, sliding to the floor. Thankfully, I’m close enough to the ground that hopefully the damage to the cakes is minimal.
“Damn it, are you okay?” A deep, male voice asks, his silhouette blocking out the sun as his shadow falls over me.
The man kneels at my side, taking some of the boxes from me and stacking them beside us so he can check me over. He seems to be examining me for injury, but I’ve been struck dumb by how insanely handsome this person is.
His dark skin is smooth and unblemished, his thick dark brows framing his perfect almond-shaped eyes. The brown of his irises is almost amber in colour and must make them look like they’re glowing when in direct sunlight. Not to mention his straight, perfectly white teeth. He looks as though he’s stepped off a photoshoot: he’s wearing a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, a white T-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans.
I’ve never been jealous of a piece of clothing before, but seeing how his T-shirt is stretched over his clearly muscled chest is bringing up new feelings.
His brow raises and I look at him in confusion. “Miss?”
Damn it, I’ve been staring and now he thinks I’m crazy. Shaking my head, I laugh and raise a hand to my head. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Oh shit, the cakes! Gasping, I shift positions, kneeling on the concrete to sift through the boxes, checking each of them for damage.
“Let me help.” He leans over to help pick up some boxes. I want to protest but he already has most of them gripped in his muscled arms. Sighing quietly, I hurry to pick up the final boxes. Only a few of the cupcakes are damaged and I can fix them up when I get to the Institute.
“Thank you.” I gesture to my yellow Beetle parked up in the space opposite the bakery. “That’s my car, if you could–”
He’s already moving before I even finish what I’m saying. Hurrying across the quiet road to catch up with him, I fish my car keys from my pocket and open the doors.
Leaning inside, I place the boxes on the back seat, making sure they are secure and not going to move in transit. Movement the other side of the car grabs my attention, and lifting my head I come face to face with the handsome stranger putting his boxes in the other side. We are so close that I can feel his breath on my cheek. All it would take for me to kiss him would be to pucker my lips.
What are you doing, Holly?I jerk back, ignoring the flash of interest in his amber eyes and fight off the blush I can feel staining my cheeks. What has gotten into me lately? Maybe Ash is right and I need to get laid. Get Jake out of my system and then I might stop fanaticising about every good-looking man who comes into town.
