God, he feels incredible.
I pull back, mortified my mom might see. “My mom has cameras back here, Harrison.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “She seemed to like me. She won’t mind.”
“Also, we’re supposed to be incognito. We shouldn’t be kissing here.”
“No one is coming back here,” he says, irritated. I know he’s angry that I’m denying him. “And what the hell was that all about earlier? You covering those girls’ shifts.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t start. You sound like Becks.”
“Don’t start that attitude again, Juliette. I see you limping. Call your mom and tell her no.” He begins kissing up my neck, then my lips. “And how will I ever see you if you’re working every day starting at four in the morning? I’ll never get my fill of you.”
“Harrison. Don’t tell me what to do, and we haven’t even set a date to see one another again.” I try pushing off again.
“Stop pushing me away, I’ll takemy girlwhen and where I want.” He kisses me again, and I melt into his words.
Pathetic comes to my mind.
Who am I kidding? I couldn’t care less because, once again, I hear his demanding tone, and my body submits, getting lost in an abyss of Harrison Davenport.
“Daddy? Juliette?” Claud’s meek voice comes from the other side of the door.
I move faster than the speed of light and jump back, irrationally worrying she can see through a wood door.
I throw a box of sprinkles and glitter dust at Harrison, and without missing a beat, he swings the door open. “Got the goods, angel.”
“Yessss!” She goes on her tippy-toes to look. “Can I use the pink shimmer first?”
“We have to share,” I remind her. All the girls in the class go nuts for these metallic shimmers.
“I will,” she singsongs then skips off.
I grab the other box of supplies and follow Claud. “I’ll take my girl when and where I want,” I mock, teasing Harrison as I walk by.
“I’d slap that ass right now if I could,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Oh, here’s Liam’s mom now,” I say as her usual immaculate self walks through the door.
Harrison’s body freezes. “I’ll handle her. Don’t worry about it.”
“Do not say anything yet.”
He’ll be scaring off the bakery clients.
I drop the box off for Alice to distribute evenly among the tables, and I glance over at all the creations my little bakers are making.
Some are meticulous, like Claud, and some like to Pollack it up. That wouldn’t fly in traditional French baking classes, but I encourage the kids to use their imagination.
When I see Harrison approach Liam’s mom, Rachel, I stalk over there to diffuse Harrison’s wrath.
“Harrison, I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been, hon?” she whispers so no one can hear.
Harrison ignores her, but they’re obviously familiar. “Rach, is Liam your son?”
“Yes? Why, what has he done now?” She rolls her eyes like she couldn’t be bothered.
Now I feel bad for Liam.
