Page 31 of Sweet Rivals

“What is your problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you find everything so damn funny?” I asked.

He just laughed again. His gaze moving from my eyes to my lips then down the rest of my body, triggering an involuntary warmth spreading out from my stomach before goosebumps raced across my skin. Normally, I would cringe at a man drinking me in like that, but for some reason, standing in a pool of moonlight on a private beach left me feeling all kinds of naughty things. I wish it didn’t and only felt angrier as a result.

A warm breeze brushed over my skin, making me all too aware that I stood in front of him in nothing more than a bikini. I wanted to wrap myself up in a towel and storm away, but more importantly didn’t want him to see that he had any effect on me at all. So instead, I stood there defiantly, hands on hips, looking up at him. As expected, the stupid grin on his face only spread.

“Ahh,” I shouted. “You know, you should take people more seriously. All you do is laugh. It is so dismissive and demeaning.” I pointed my finger in his direction, closing the gap between us.

“You should take people less seriously,” he said, mimicking my finger-pointing so his finger pressed into my collar bone.

“You should learn how to respect boundaries,” I said, pushing his chest even harder.

“You should learn to tell people what you want,” he said, stepping closer and pushing so hard that I thought he might push me over.

“You should learn that the whole world doesn’t revolve around your whims,” I said, using my whole hand to push against him. He barely moved.

“And you,” he said, moving his face so it was only an inch from mine. “Should learn that maybe it should revolve more around yours.”

I stared into his eyes as the rage dissipated, his words hitting me like a crashing wave ready to pull me under. He wasn’t wrong. All I wanted was to put my needs first. It left me unnerved that this stranger was able to see that so easily about me after knowing me for a handful of days. This stranger who happened to be my mortal enemy and the antithesis of everything I stood for, managed to see right through any walls and facades I built up in a way that even my family and best friends couldn’t. Although it was possible that they hadn’t noticed because it always benefited them. I didn’t know what else to say, but now, we were standing toe to toe. Me with my hair and bathing suit dripping, my breath coming rapidly as if I had just run a race. Him, calm, cool, and collected like always. But close, so, so close. I could feel the heat from his body and see the rise and fall of his chest as he held me trapped in his gaze. I felt vulnerable and exposed in more ways than one. I had to get the hell out of there.

“Jenna,” he said, his words thick with something that I didn’t want to probe further.

I turned on my heels, grabbed my clothes, and booked it across the sand, scrambling up the rocks like an idiot. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I called over my shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Iarrived at the bakery with the rising sun, ready to work. I pushed any thoughts of the late-night beach encounter out of my mind. The work crew wouldn’t be in for several hours, and I wanted to get a lay of the land. The front facing side of the bakery has been largely demoed, and they would be starting on the kitchen, likely installing state-of-the-art equipment. It would be pretty nice to try it out when the time came, but until then, I wanted to work on a few recipes that had come to mind. And it was pure happenstance that my creative juices—ew—started flowing after our chance rendezvous that meant absolutely nothing.

The front door was unlocked, so I imagined that Jared was inside or nearby. And the fluttering in my stomach could have been mistaken for excitement, but it was definitely angsty. Right?

I moved slowly through the front room, taking in the empty space and the stringent scent of heavy-duty cleaning products. The sun rays slanted across the old flooring from the tall windows. With all the old stuff out, I could so easily picture the cherry wood floors, the eclectic artwork, the comfy chairs, the bookshelves full of beach reads, the board games, the corner set up for a guitar player. The whole vibe of the place felt like I could settle in and stay there forever. Jared could deal with whatever decisions I made. My goal was to bring people in and encourage them to never leave. I would have to get some coloring stuff for kids too. For the first time, I let myself get carried away in the planning. I may only have been there temporarily, but I was going to make the best of it, damn it.

In the back, a lot of the large equipment had already been removed, leaving vacant spots for new stuff to be installed. I dropped the few ingredients I had brought off in the walk-in refrigerator. I wasn’t ready to start unpacking in the pantry without Jared’s okay just yet.

Once again. those pesky butterflies took up residence. I made my way to the office where he sat on his folding chair. The early sun on his back highlighted the dust mites playing in the non-breeze.

“Cozy,” I said, as I set my own laptop, journal, and binder down across from him. I planned on placing orders today, so we had to share the office space whether he liked it or not. The office that I had been so jealous of was mine, at least for the time being. The spark of creativity that I felt the previous night only blossomed with the view of the beach and the warmth of the sun. For a moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could be that person of my vision who baked things and kicked ass.

I took a deep breath. Only I could make that a reality. And I could only make that a reality by bringing this guy down, although looking at him in the sunlight made my feelings just a little warmer. How the hell did simple sunlight have the power to change everything?

I pulled my folding chair from beside him to the other side of the table. I didn’t sit though. I couldn’t waste my creativity on the most soul-sucking part of the job—talking to vendors on the phone. Without a word to Jared—and despite feeling his eyes on me—I left the office and returned to the kitchen, retrieving my ingredients and setting them on the stainless-steel counter.

After washing several pots several times, I set to work on the stove. I wanted to make a bread pudding in a sandcastle mold with a hard caramel sauce shell topped with crème anglaise. It could be eaten warm or cold. At The Lobster Tail, we only ever used caramel candies melted in a pan with some butter to make caramel sauce. But I wanted everything for the bakery to be fresh and homemade. It would be a challenge to get the right consistency.

I felt Jared behind me. You can do this, Jenna, I told myself, trying hard not to turn around and yell at him for invading my space. I wouldn’t get dragged into an argument today. Today was a day for creativity and dreams and baking. Jared could go screw.

“Whatcha workin on?” he asked, peering over my shoulder with an exaggerated curiosity. So much for that.

I turned my body in an effort to block his view of my saucepan. It didn’t do much since he stood a full head taller than me. “You know, I’m not telling you.”

“Looks like a caramel sauce of some kind,” he said, and I shifted my hip so it nudged into his side causing him to stagger back slightly, although I couldn’t tell if it was because I had actually knocked him off-balance or if he was exaggerating again.

“Maybe you should focus on your own menu instead of trying to prevent me from working on mine,” I said.

“Or we could help each other so we both succeed,” he said with a lifted eyebrow.

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