Do I look like hell? I slept horribly last night without Cruz next to me.
“I’m fine.” A guy walks past, and I do a double take. He’s wearing wraparound sunglasses and has a long dark braid down his back. Nothing like Damon. Dammit. “I’ll be fine. It’s just... everything’s catching up with me, and I’m worried it’ll interfere with the important things.”
“Like your boyfriend?” Her light teasing hits home.
“Yes.”
It’s her turn to look surprised. “Oh, Elodie. That man is not going anywhere.”
“It’s...” I wave a hand in front of my face. The group of tourists is coming closer. “I’ll talk to you later.” And I will. I’ll tell her about how Damon keeps stopping by, and hell, maybe I should tell her about the blackmail. More minds can help me figure this mess out.
The next few hours fly by. We get another couple of rushes, and I sell more than singles of cupcakes and cookies. A few people order a dozen, several that live in nearby small towns take my card, and there’s a lot of gushing about the Foster House collaboration. Kids are happy to get in on the baked samples when they can’t sip and sample with their parents.
Best of all, my day was Damon-free. I just hope Cruz’s was too.
I don’t have much to pack up. I let Kinley go since the cleanup won’t take long. Is Cruz going to stop by again?
What will I say? We didn’t exactly part on a bad note, but it wasn’t a good one either.
I bring a folding table inside the bakery and push back out onto the sidewalk.
Damon’s standing at the corner of what’s left of my booth, his arms crossed, and an arrogant twist to his lips.
“Ugh.” I was stressed the whole day because of him and he shows up at the end, and he likely did that on purpose. Damn him! “You’re like a turd that won’t flush down.”
His anger is immediate, darkening his eyes. “Do you have my money?”
Cruz’s reassurance from last night stays with me. “Do you mean more ofmymoney that you’re blackmailing from me?”
His shocked expression gives me a short moment of satisfaction. He looks around, and so do I. I should’ve done that before I cocked off. No one’s close enough to hear, and anyone who saw us would think he’s just a latecomer.
I prop my hands on my hips. “It’s not the end of the month.”
“Close enough.”
“Fuck off. I still have time.”
“I’d hate for someone to hear about how you used to whore yourself?—”
Damon flies to the side and slams into the wall of the bakery, thankfully missing a window.
Cruz steps onto the sidewalk, his features livid and his hands balled into fists. “Shut your goddamn mouth.”
“Cruz! Stop.” I don’t know whether to run or laugh or cry. I could’ve handled Damon, but I also loved seeing him go flying.
Damon shakes his head. “What the hell?—”
Cruz shoves his finger in Damon’s face, crowding him toward the buildings. With more size and experience—and fury—thanDamon, Cruz has no problem intimidating him. “If you don’t fucking listen, you’re going through the window this time. And then I’ll stand on top of you and make you glue every goddamn piece back together.”
Damon backs up so far, he hits the building again. “Get out of my face.”
“Get out of my town,” Cruz says through gritted teeth.
“She owes me money,” Damon shoots back.
Dread fills me and I have the urge to sprint again.
Cruz looms in front of him. “She doesn’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
