Page 88 of Turning Up the Heat

I stood there in shock for one minute, two, debating what to do. My stomach churned as fury surged back up, a hot, bubbling lava of anger threatening to spill over and erupt.

Then Holden walked out of the bakery. I stood back in the shadows, not up for another confrontation with that jerkoff.

I was still standing there, shell-shocked, when Delaney glanced through the window and noticed me. She jumped up from the table, running over to the door and flinging it open.

“Quinn! What are you...how long have you been out here?” Her voice was high-pitched, strained.

“Long enough to see all I needed to see,” I said, my tone flat and cold.

“Quinn, it’s not like that! It’s nothing, I swear.” Her hand fluttered out towards me, but I backed up, just out of reach.

“It didn’t look like nothing to me. Your model ex-boyfriend comes in out of nowhere and now you’re all chummy again.”

“Quinn, that’s not fair.”

“Just spitting facts, Delaney. And thanks for calling me back, by the way.”

“What? I didn’t have any calls from you.”

“You did. But obviously you were too busy to answer.” I crossed my arms over my chest, pissed off now.

“Maybe I missed one call, but how many times did you ignoremetoday? I wanted to talk this out with you, but no. You had to brood. Really annoying, Quinn.” She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips a thin pink line. “And you know what I was going to say? No. No, you don’t because you never bothered to answer. And now I’ve changed my mind about what I was going to say.”

She was really riled up now, her nostrils flaring, pupils dilated.

“Before, I was going to apologize. But now, I’m not. I deserve a few minutes to think about my life choices and my career. I love you, but you are making it hard. Like, really hard.” She slammed her hands on her hips and stared at me.

“Well, guess what, Delaney? I was going to apologize too, before I saw you with that Hell’s Kitchen Wannabe. But now? I’m not. You obviously made your choice.”

“That’s not true. But fine. Whatever.”

“Fine,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets, seething.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. My Bûche de Noël is burning and I don’t have time for burnt cakes—or unnecessary drama.”

“Me neither,” I said. “And it’s my day off, so I don’t want to have to put out any more fires.”

“Well don’t worry about me, Quinn. I can handle myself. And I strongly recommend dealing with your emotional bullshit before you come around again.”

That one stung, but I let it go. No sense pouring more fuel on the fire.

“Have a great night.” With that, I turned and walked away, hot anger coursing through me with absolutely nowhere to go.

I needed to get far, far away from Delaney and all the feelings she churned up. Jogging the rest of the way home, I packed an overnight bag, then jumped into my truck and headed to the one place no one ever bothered me: my cabin in the mountains.

Only an hour away, the cabin was a completely different world than Peachtree Grove. There, I could sit and think. More importantly, I could try to work Delaney out of my system once and for all because we obviously weren’t meant to be.

23

Delaney

“Whoa, wait, what? Slow down, Lanie, you’re babbling. And blubbering. And I can’t understand you at all,” Mars said, exasperated. “I’m coming over, hang tight.”

Five minutes later, Mars sat on my couch, his arms wrapped around me as I cried, hard, into his shoulder. He rubbed circles on my back, comforting me.

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out, Lanie. Now, start at the beginning.”

I untangled myself from Mars, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them tight to my body.

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