London
Custard.Inmyhair.And my ear. Andagh! Now it’s in my eyes.
No no.
I rush to the sink and spray the water directly into my eye. Now would be a good time for Sean to show up since he has a knack for appearing when I’m at my worst.
The bell above the shop door dings and my heart rate spikes, expecting him. But it’s just Cassie heading out for the day. Grady leaves shortly after and the silence they leave behind brings all my thoughts back to Sean.
He has been texting me all day. Silly things, thoughtful things. Each one makes me smile, but I’m quickly realizing I want more. So much more than that pathetic little peck on my cheek. It’s criminal how much a tiny thing affected me. How muchheaffects me. I know he’d kiss me without qualms if I just permitted him to do so.
“Just so you know, when you finally decide to kiss me, you’re safe.”
He’s going to wait for me to kiss him. Which is rather irritating coming from the man who once kissed the principal on a dare. He was suspended for that one. It’s honestly surprising he graduated.
I duck into my office and glance over my to-do list of everything I need to complete or set up before the grand opening. Only thirty-five items left. My heart rate increases until I feel a pounding in my head. This is why I started with a soft launch. Because I can’t handle it all at once. I have to slow it down and take it one step at a time. The same way I get into a pool. One tiny inch at a time. This is how I’ll be successful. As long as I make it in the pool.
“Cardboard really makes you pop.”
I jump at the voice, my head jerks backward into the wall and I groan. “Sean! You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he says with a smile that doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. “What are you doing?”
Besides wondering how it’s possible to look that good in a basic t-shirt and faded jeans that fit him like a well-worn, well-loved glove? I clear my throat and focus on my laptop.
“Narrowing down my to-do list for the opening.”
He comes around my side of the cardboard desk and leans over my shoulder until his cheek is a centimeter from mine. He’s barely touching me, but I feel him everywhere. The brush of his shirt against my shoulder, his natural masculine scent from working with wood all day. I shift and a strand of my hair gets stuck to his five o’clock shadow like velcro. I want to rub my hand along that beard. Is that dirt in his ear?
“I can help you with number fifteen.”
“Oh, no.” I shut the laptop and stand up. “It’s fine. I can do it.”
“But I want to help. I can also hang the banner for you, and what else was on the list?”
I shake my head. His offering to help should make me feel less anxious, but it’s doing the opposite. “Maybe.”
He stands up straight and pulls out his phone, reading something off the screen. “Oh, that reminds me, do you have social media for the bakery?”
“Uh, yeah?” I think I posted a picture last month.
“I could help you make some videos if you want to release them leading up to opening day.”
I hadn’t even considered making videos, but that’s probably a good idea. “Okay.” My head is spinning as a dozen more to-do list items pop up in my brain. Make videos, post online, find people to post as well…
“Also, our work Christmas party is this weekend,” he says, looking at his phone again.
Does he have his own to-do list on that thing?
“I told my dad about you, and we were wondering if you could make some dessert. I know it’s last-minute. I’ll text you all the info and the address—”
“Sean,” I cut off his rambling. “I need you to stop talking for a minute.” I know he’s only trying to help, but it's all too much. Does he not think I can do this? Is he going to turn into my dad, breathing down my neck to make sure I don’t fail.
“Okay…?” Sean frowns.
I take a breath. “Do you think because I only have one arm, I won’t be successful?”
His head rears back as if I slapped him. “What? No, of course not.”
