Page 2 of Forever Home
Grabbing my alarm, I hit the dismiss button and lay back with a sigh. Everything about my dream is exactly what I want. So, of course, once again, it’s nothing but a fantasy.
Sitting up, I grab the blankets and whip them back. My gaze falls to my bare thighs and the aching feeling in my swollen pussy that’s still slick with the pleasure from my dream. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to recall the image of the lover I allowed to please me, but the image is fading.
The strong teasing of his fingers and his tongue are the only things I can recall strongly, and every part of me wants to dive back in to stay just a moment longer with him. But the feeling doesn’t last as I open my eyes once more and stare at the empty bed beside me. No sexy man with a satisfied grin lies there. No hunk ready for round two, determined to make me moan in more than one language.
Ah, the glamor of the single life.I sigh.
“I need a cold shower…”
Four in the morning comes sooner than I would like, but it’s a familiar sacrifice I have to make as a baker. And it isn’t something that I regret. The feeling of my fingers working through the ingredients used to create a masterpiece is almost as good as sex. Or at least, in my experience, it is.
Padding towards the bathroom, I flick the switch on the wall by the door and come face to face with hazel eyes that stare back at me from the mirror above my sink. Dark black circles under my eyes show my lack of sleep over the past few weeks due to my obsession with a new baking show from Paris. I’m bursting with inspiration to create new masterpieces to show my mom, though I know deep down she won’t go for it.
Running my fingers through my extremely messy hair, I groan.I’m way overdue for a haircut. I’d allowed myself to get too caught up in work lately. Not that it honestly bothered me too much.
Luxuries like going to a hair salon and splurging on shopping sprees aren’t hobbies I take up often. I’m not saying that I don’t like them; I just don’t have the time when I’m constantly creating edible art.
It doesn’t take me long to shower and dress for the day. My hands slip through the wet strands of my hair as I pull it up into a tight bun and slip a hair tie around it.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I sigh.Focus, Madi. Work first, then fantasize about a man I’ll never meet. I pull out my phone and quickly scroll through the notification as I make my way towards the front door.
It’s a tradition I do every morning, and today my eyes scroll across the report that Sadie Walker from high school was engaged to some hockey player from Washington. My heart drops. “Sadie fucking Walker is marrying a gorgeous, blue-eyed hockey player?!”
It’s nothing against the girl; she was cool, for the most part. It’s just that she was the quiet, introverted, library type growing up who never talked to anyone. Now she literally looks like a supermodel with blonde, perfect hair and a million-dollar smile that doesn’t show a sign that she once had more metal in her mouth than the damn train tracks running through town.
How did she get a gorgeous man like that, and I’m over here with nothing but dirty fantasies?
Groaning, I tilt my head back. I’d never had an issue with being single before, but now… The envy over Sadie’s life builds deep within the pit of my stomach as I exit the app on my phone and slip it back into my pocket.
Everyone around me is doing so much with their lives. Traveling the world, falling in love…
And I’m just here. Not that I hate my life or anything. I love spending time with mom and running the bakery. It just…gets lonely sometimes. Especially since everyone has moved away besides Knox, and even he has his own life and a very busy career.
The stairs creak slightly as I descend, and the scent of pastries and sweets greets me like an old friend. Taking a deep breath, I smile. I may dislike getting up this early, but I love my job. And, living above the bakery makes the commute much more manageable.
Crossing the linoleum floor, I unlock the back door to my mom’s bakery. I flip on the switch placed next to it, causing the fluorescent lights to turn on one by one. The soft buzzing sound follows me as I approach the ovens.
“Nothing like a warm oven to get things going in the morning,” I mutter softly as I turn them on. “Alexa, playMy favorite playlist.”
“Turning on yourChristmas playlist.” “Jingle-Bell Rock" blasts through the speakers
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Alexa! TURN ON my FAVORITE PLAYLIST.”
Alexa pauses once more, the blue light spinning before it finally acknowledges what I said.
“Turning on yourfavorite playlist.”
As the music turns on and the sound of Green Day blares through the speakers, I sigh with relief, busying myself with collecting the ingredients I need for the morning menu. Flour, baking soda, sugar… The list is always the same, but the art that’s made with it is so much more. With the items lined up on the long prep counter, I lose myself in the process like I always do. The recipes are engraved into my soul as I move through each step without thinking.
While I would have loved to go crazy, trying the variety of new types of pastries that I’ve seen on my favorite French cooking show, I stick to the basics that our customers love. Warm, flaky chocolate croissants, old-fashioned donuts, almond cherry tarts, cream cheese danishes… The list is endless, and every second spent in the kitchen is completely worth it.
Plus, as my mother always says, stick to what you know.
Though, since I bought myself time by staying up late last night to prep for this morning, Icouldplay with new recipes if I was sneaky.
The thought instantly crosses my mind mischievously before deciding against it.
By the time I finally slip two trays of cream cheese danishes into the oven, I glance at the clock and notice the time. “After five already?”
