Page 50 of Sweet Rivals

“We should talk.” His deep voice startled me out of my concentration.

I looked up from the cupcake I meticulously decorated with blue swirl butter cream in the shape of an ocean that would then be adorned with starfish shaped chocolate. He wasn’t looking at me. He hadn’t even paused what he was doing.

“No, we shouldn’t. We should just prep,” I said. A tense knot that had been slowly growing in my stomach released once he broke the silence. This was much more comfortable footing. I liked being in a position to say no rather than wondering and worrying what his thoughts were in painful silence.

He stopped what he was doing and crossed the room so quickly I could barely register it before he was right in front of me. I craned my neck up to see the intense expression on his face. Suddenly, all I could do was stand there like a deer in headlights, watching him. He ended only inches from me. I backed up until my ass hit the counter, but still he closed the distance, his body pressing against mine.

“Is that what you really want?” He was like a different person from the man I thought I knew. His intensity was like a caged animal ready to turn feral at the first sign of freedom.

“I…” I didn’t want to just go back to prepping. I didn’t really know what I wanted at all. I thought of PotatoBake888 on the other side of a screen, always there for me. I thought of Jared with his effortless smile and expert hands. And I thought of my bakery. All I felt was overwhelmed and confused. At my hesitation, his hand wrapped tightly around my hip. I yipped in surprise as he pressed his body against mine and lifted my ass onto the counter. Oh my god, what was he doing? And why wasn’t I stopping him?

He moved his hips between my thighs, and I moaned involuntarily when I felt the hard length of him pressed against my shorts and panties. He tangled his free hand in my hair as I tilted my head back against the wall.

“What do you want, Jenna?” He spoke quietly against my neck, his breath bringing goosebumps along my skin.

In that moment, all doubt dissipated, and I wanted the thin fabric of our clothes to melt away so I could feel the smooth roundness of his head pressed against my opening. My whole body ached, and it took all my willpower not to grind my hips against him. He shifted his hips slightly, creating friction between my thighs that lit my whole body on fire. Nothing made sense. My burning desire felt traitorous to the rational goals and fantastical dreams I had worked toward.

“We can’t,” I whispered although part of me wished he wouldn’t listen. That he would insist and keep going so I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

But of course, Jared wasn’t like that. He pulled away so quickly I felt like he took a piece of me with him. I tried to collect myself and catch my breath, but I must have looked like a mad woman.

“You are right. I am sorry. I never should have crossed a line. I know how important this bakery is to you. We have a preview to get ready for. I won’t bother you again,” he said.

It occurred to me that he took my “no” as a rejection. I guess it kind of was even though it didn’t feel that way to me. If he had known just how hard it had been for me to say no. How my body still felt the heat and desire of being near him, he would understand it wasn’t a rejection at all, but self-preservation. I finished prepping for the preview in a numb daze, unsure of anything at all, especially my own desires.

The scariest thought of all was that part of me, a very loud part, had been ready to throw it all away for Jared.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ipacked all of my pastries carefully in boxes and Tupperware. Having the preview in town had its benefits, but I worried about the transport. It wasn’t until I was ready to go that I realized I had no car to get all my stuff there.

“Need a ride?” Jared’s familiar and now comfortable smirk was back, and somehow, it broke my heart.

I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. How had I managed to go so quickly from being desperate to destroy him to being a desperate sap. “I guess so,” I said.

“Come on,” he said. He led me out the bakery where the work crew had already arrived for the day to work on the front end, out over the planks of the boardwalk to the street parking where a baby blue, ancient Chevy pickup sat.

“That’s your ride?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said. “You don’t like it?”

“I just didn’t expect it,” I said. I didn’t know what I expected. I hadn’t expected a designer, high-end car like his brother, but I also hadn’t expected a car that looked like it wouldn’t make it to the closest stop sign. “Talk about Texas Chain Saw Massacre.”

“Oh, nice throwback to our first conversation,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows. “Although Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a van, so…”

“Are you mansplaining a horror movie to me?” I asked.

“No, just pointing out that you are wrong,” he said with a shrug and a smirk.

Again, that lighthearted smile pulled at feelings I had tamped down for a long, long time. But the worst part was that it wasn’t for me. Not really. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to murder you today.”

“Today?”

He shrugged and started loading the back of the tuck bed. He packed everything meticulously so it wouldn’t move at all. Then we got in the cab, and he drove the few blocks into town.

My stomach was tied in knots. This was really happening. I was really selling my stuff. What if people hated it? What if Jared’s was better? What if no one even stopped?

“Stop worrying,” Jared said.

---