Page 61 of Crushes and Confections

It was a brûléed peach and diplomat cream enrobed in a milk chocolate shell that had a drizzle of white chocolate, peach dust, and a flake of edible gold. It was my Claire in one bite.

I’d practiced countless times until I’d gotten an acceptable product. While nothing could do her taste justice, this was my ode to her.

Turning the corner to head back out to the main area, I stopped dead in my tracks at the couple standing at the counter. The plate in my hand almost slipped, and I hastily set it down.

“Adrien! Comment ça va?” My mother asked, acting like she was just dropping in for un café.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, refusing to answer her asinine question.

If she really cared how I was doing then she wouldn’t have turned me away once I’d told her about Vance.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother,” my father chastised, his English flawless.

At least time seemed to correct that, most likely his business driving him. There was a time when he swore he wouldn’t speak anything other than French.

“I’m going to have to ask the two of you to leave,” I said firmly. “I have nothing more that I want to say to you.”

“Don’t be silly,” my mother huffed, pursing her lips. “You have responsibilities back home you must attend to. Your father needs to retire soon. Don’t worry, we found the cutest little omega who can serve as your beard for all we care.”

“My home is here in Holiday Hollow,” I said through clenched teeth.

“But we found you a—“

“Excuse me, ma’am, but he asked you to leave,” Blaire spoke up, having stood from her chair.

Her hand was popped on her hip, and she was glaring my mother down. It made me feel almost too much.

“Run along now, beta. The important people are talking,” my mother sneered.

I was up and over the counter in a second, a growl ripping from my chest as I placed myself in front of Blaire.

“Don’t talk to her that way.” I warned.

“I may be a beta, but at least I’m not a cold-hearted bitch,” Blaire called over my shoulder.

“Adrien, mon fils—”

“Leave. Now. You have nothing I want. If my father cared at all about anything other than that job, maybe he’d have a replacement for retirement. I’m not your scapegoat or retirement plan. I’m a person, one who wants nothing to do with you. Either of you.”

My mother huffed, looking at my father to do something. But I was no longer a timid teenager my alpha father could push around. I was my own alpha now and in no way willing to stand down.

“We’ll leave,” he said finally. “But this isn’t the last of this. You need to come home.”

I didn’t take another breath until they stepped out of the shop, a soft hand on my shoulder finally breaking me out of my glowering.

“Your parents are a piece of work,” Blaire said bluntly. “How do you feel about a hug?”

A laugh slipped from my lips as I opened my arms to her. “Your daughter does the same thing.”

“Well, where do you think she learned it from?” Blaire asked. “Don’t you dare say Charlie, he’s spoiled enough as it is and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

She wrapped her arms around me tight and I felt a pang in my heart. This was what a mother should be, someone who loved you unconditionally.

“Thank you, Blaire.”

“I can see why calling me Mom would be hard for you, Honey. But just know that I’m here for whatever you need. You don’t need to worry about them here, this town will have your back.”

“I-I appreciate that,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Let me grab that box I made for Charlie for you.”

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