Page 31 of Never Let You Go

eight

Christopher

Iwrap up a quiet late afternoon in the bakeshop, but I feel more electrified than my usual peaceful, winding-down mood. I double-check all my preparations for the next day and verify our orders for the third time.

I bring out the training material for Pierce: her manual with my annotations and target dates for completion. She’ll be done on time if she progresses at twice the average time, which is doable. I dig out baking clothes from our uniform closet, fold them in a neat pile, and stack them next to her manual. I write her name on the cover, and my heartbeat picks up like I’m a fucking teenager. Get a grip, Wright.

I check the time. It’s only six p.m. Emma called to invite Skye for a sleepover tonight, and I dropped her off an hour ago.

The house always feels empty without my daughter. The huge Victorian is too big for the two of us to begin with, and there’s nothing I can do about that. It’s where my bakery is, and it’s a great location. It’s just… huge. And right now, empty.

Ems invited me to stay for dinner, but it didn’t feel right to leave Alexandra alone, so I came right back.

And on the way I realized it didn’t feel right to be alone with Alexandra either.

So at first, I was relieved to find her note on the kitchen counter about her going out for dinner with Grace.

And then I got pissed.

And now I don’t know what to do with myself. Which means, I’m headed to Lazy’s, my best friend Justin’s pub.

I shower again and put on a clean shirt.

As I push the door to Lazy’s, looking forward to some quiet guy time with Justin, there she is.

Her head is tilted back as she laughs wholeheartedly at something Grace is saying. Her delicate neck is the first thing I see, her mouth wide open the next. She straightens in her booth, and her laugh dies as our eyes lock. I nod curtly and make my way to the bar. And nearly trip over Justin’s dog, Moose, who’s laying in his usual spot smack in the middle of the way. Moose lifts his head and squints at me. I squat and pat him. “Sorry, buddy,” I say. He grunts his forgiveness and lays his head back on the floor.

Justin hasn’t picked up on this, and it’s just as well. He pours me my usual draft IPA. “Shane made a mean pulled pork tonight,” he says.

“What’s it come with?”

“Some dude’s fancy bun.”

Huh. I was wondering why they ordered brioche buns from me yesterday. “Guess I gotta try it then.”

Shane is Lazy’s chef. He used to work for the fancy restaurant next door, and since he left to work for Justin, he’s been doing a heck of a job with all the comfort foods that are the staple at Justin’s establishment.

“You got it,” Justin says. “Grace and Alex are over there,” he adds, pointing with his chin. “I’m about to bring them their soups. Should I set you up with them?”

He knows Alexandra by name already? I pull a bar stool. “I’ll stay right here.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Whatever you say.”

The place is filling up, but all I can hear is Alexandra’s laughter and voice. She isn’t loud, far from it. It’s as though her voice is on a frequency that hits me just below the ribcage and radiates from there.

I’ve never felt that way about a woman.

My food comes out quickly, but I’m not hungry. I stare at it. Then take a bite. It melts in my mouth. The flavor of the meat is enhanced by the brioche bun, which also has the perfect soaking capacity.

Bread making is an art. A passion. It’s not a hobby, at least not in my bakery. Alexandra is going to find out pretty soon.

There’s something off with her story. I have the gut feeling she’s not telling me half the truth of why she’s here. I hate liars, but for some reason, she’s giving me a different vibe. Like she doesn’t really have another option than to play her cards close to her chest.

I need her to succeed, but not at the cost of her well-being. If she finds out this is too much for her and she walks out on the apprenticeship, then so be it. I’ll deal with the financial consequences.

Although the walking out would sting for other reasons.

She’s kind and helpful. Smart and funny. Sassy. Sexy as hell.

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