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“Nope. That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I laugh despite the fact that I desperately want to know what my favorite pastry told her about me. But, judging by the look on her face, I’m not going to find out today.
“Okay, tell me this, then,” I say, pinning her with a look. “Why do you love baking so much?”
Her smile instantly transforms, turning softer as she looks out at the water. “Because there is order to it, control and when you do everything just right, you end up with a beautiful dessert. But you can also bend the rules and find ways to change the recipes you have to create something new. Plus, I just love that moment when someone tries something I’ve made and it lifts their spirits in an instant.”
“When did you start?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off her. When she talks about baking, she comes to life in a way I’ve never seen before.
It’s intoxicating.
“In middle school. My mom was… is… not great and I had this teacher, Mrs. Franks. She taught me how to bake and taught me to love the art of it. I’d go to her room before school and stay long after school had gotten out to avoid going home. The kitchen became my safe place.”
“What happened with her?” I ask, watching her. I don’t want to pry too much but I desperately want to know what she meant about her mom. “With your mom, I mean.”
She sighs and her smile falls. “It’s complicated. My dad died when I was little and my mother… she tends to lose herself in whatever new man she has in her life. Some of them were okay, others were very much not.”
“Did they hurt you?” I reach across the table, laying my hand on her arm and she looks down at my hand before meeting my eyes and giving me a soft smile.
I desperately want her to say no.
I need her to say no.
“Some of them.”
Fuck.
No.
“I’m sorry, Lennon,” I tell her, my voice raw. The rage I keep buried bubbling underneath the surface. I can’t stand looking at her beautiful, sweet face and knowing that someone dared to ever lay a hand on her. “You don’t have to tell me.”
She nods. “Maybe I will someday but I’d really rather not right now.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say, waiting until she meets my eyes. “I’ll be here.”
She stares at me for a moment and I can see the questions filling her gaze but finally, she just nods and offers me a smile. Not one like I’ve seen from her before. This one is sad and unsure. I feel the need to reassure her that I’m not going anywhere clawing at my skin.
“You want to go somewhere else with me?”
Her brows furrow. “Where?”
“I want to show you something,” I say, raking a hand through my hair as my stomach flips. “Something about me.”
She watches me, her gaze staring into my fucking soul and then she nods.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lennon
“I want to show you something,” he says. He drags his hand through his hair and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Something about me.”
I’m intrigued.
I’ve seen the quiet confidence of the man who stepped between Owen and me, I’ve seen the arrogance of the man who effortlessly flirted with me but the vulnerability in his eyes right now is my undoing.
This means something to him.
