Page 9 of Tasting Sin

I knew before I was behind the wheel that Nellie wouldn’t want to see me, but when I pulled up in front of Sugar & Spice, I didn’t care. I cared more about the yellow sign in the window that seemed louder now that I knew the reason it was there. She was more than at risk of losing her bakery—she was about guaranteed.

When I opened the door, the bell above it rang, and Nellie practically danced out from the back of the kitchen. The smile on her face when she did was enough to make me believe everything was okay. At least, until she saw me. As soon as she did, the sweet serenity on her face disappeared.

“You again?” she snapped, resting her hands on her hips. Nellie looked unamused, and the frustration she radiated was a complete contrast to the sweet scent that filled the bakery.

I grinned, finding amusement at her sour distaste. “I came to talk to you.” My eyes were drawn from the scowl on her face to the case of cupcakes.

“Why waste your time? I have no interest in talking to you.” Nellie turned around to walk away.

“I know you need help,” I said, stopping her in her tracks. Her back stiffened, and I could nearly feel the heat darkening her cheeks.

When she whipped around, her glare carved deep lines next to her eyes and wrinkles in her forehead. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

I quickly closed the distance between us, slamming my hands on the counter while she stayed frozen in place. “I said I know you need help.” Nellie looked even more suspicious than when she had recognized me the first time. I exhaled quickly, pointing at the yellow sign in the window that made her cringe. “Look, I came in here to rent this place, but instead, I want to help you. Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Because I don’t want your help.” She emphasized each word with a step towards me, her anger cooling down. The glare never left her face. Distrust. “I’ve survived most of my life without help. What makes you think I want help now?”

“You love this place.” I smiled, and for a moment, I could swear I saw her seething frustration flicker. Then, the sudden annoyance returned, along with a look that told me to go fuck myself. I leaned over the counter, surprisingly satisfied when she didn’t recoil. “I can see it when you walk out of that kitchen covered in frosting, or when you prepare yourself to greet a new customer. I saw it when you sold me the cupcakes the other night, even though you didn’t want to. And I tasted it in the piece of cake I told myself I wasn’t going to enjoy. You. Love. This. Place.”

“Of course I do.” She threw her hands in the air, as if to point out the obvious. “That doesn’t mean I want your help. You’re the last person I want help from!”

I smirked. I couldn’t blame her for that, but I also knew I was the first person she should want help from. I could actually help her. “You’ll change your mind.”

“Is that a threat?” Nellie crossed her arms over her chest, popping her hip out to the side, as if it made her look tougher.

“Not at all.” I shook my head. “It’s an assumption. You’ll change your mind because you’ll realize that soon, you’ll have baked your last cupcake in this shop if you don’t.”

“I won’t change my mind.” She all but stomped her foot to emphasize the point, and I bit back a chuckle.

“I guess we’ll see, huh?” I winked. I was going to help her whether she wanted me to or not. “Now, let me get some more of those cupcakes. What did you say they were?” I pointed to the same cupcakes I had bought the other day—the ones she swore were the best in Boston. I wasn’t sure I could disagree. Not that there was anything for me to compare it to.

“Italian cream cake,” she said. Her eyes bounced between the display case and the boxes on the counter, like she was deciding whether she would sell me the cupcakes. Finally, she grabbed the box, and I grinned. When she mirrored it with a small smirk of her own, I felt relieved.

“Whatever they’re called,” I chuckled. “I’ll take them all.”

Chapter 7

Nellie

“Okay, seriously. What’s the worst that can happen?” Ava tapped her nails against the metal counter, watching me dump sugar and butter into the mixer.

I stopped and sighed. “I don’t know.” I didn’t. “I just don’t trust him.” I thought about the way he’d walked in last night, almost threatening me with the purchase of cupcakes he had already told me he wasn’t going to eat.

“Why not?” I stepped aside seamlessly when Ava moved to take over, adding coloring to the mix and turning it on. The whirling hum when the mixer started to blend the ingredients was a subtle soundtrack to the thoughts screaming in my head. Why did he want to help me anyways?

“I haven’t seen Ronan since Dickie died, not before he suddenly walked in earlier this week.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and when I opened them, Ava was nodding half-sympathetically and half like she already knew what I was thinking. “He didn’t even go to the funeral. Then, when my parents died…nothing. Not that I expected it, but still. What makes me think he’s really going to help me now?”

She stepped away from the mixer but left it running, moving to throw her arm over my shoulders. I didn’t resist it when she pulled me into a hug. “Maybe it was hard for him. He was young.”

“He was twenty-one. I was only eleven,” I scoffed, realizing too late that he wasn’t much older than a child. I rolled my eyes like it made a difference—like he should’ve been there because I had to be. “He was the one who found Dickie, and then he just disappeared. Not even a good-bye? How can you be someone’s best friend and then not even show up at his memorial?”

I blinked back the tears and attempted to swallow the lump swelling in my throat. Even though Ava had seen me cry on numerous occasions, I hated crying in front of people. I didn’t want to appear weak. It had been seventeen years since my brother died.

“It wasn’t his fault, Nellie.” She squeezed me tighter when I started to shake. “Dickie took his own life. It wasn’t Ronan’s fault.”

“I know it wasn’t.” She didn’t have to tell me that, like I didn’t know all about the day he died. I’d relived it in my head a thousand times. A warm tear streaked down my cheek, and I caught it with my finger before it dripped from my chin. “I’m not blaming him. I just… He had no problem abandoning me when I was a child; what makes me think I can trust him now?”

Ava shrugged, affirming I had made a valid point. “I mean… I’ll ask again. What’s the worst that can happen?”

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