Page 12 of Turning Up the Heat

I sighed, a quick flash of regret seizing my chest. His words would have melted me six months ago. Now, I wasn’t nearly as moved.

“And I have a proposition. A business proposition.”

“Keep talking,” I said, testing the water temp on my hand.Still not hot enough…

“I want you to open a bakery in Midtown with me. Next to my new restaurant.”

My breath caught in my throat as his words sunk in. I turned the water off, sinking down onto the edge of the bathtub.

“Really? How would that work? I’m opening my own bakery in less than thirty minutes in Peachtree Grove.”

“You can have multiple businesses, Lane. People do it all the time.”

“Yeah, rich people.” I let that hang in the air between us, knowing full well Holden had a lot more financial resources than I did.

“Don’t worry about the money now, Lane. I would front all the expenses, then we’d work out a split going forward. The important thing is you’d be back in New York—where you belong.”

My heart pounded hearing those words, a sentiment I’d wrestled with over the last few months, even as I plotted and planned my life here in Peachtree Grove.

“You’re not a small-town girl, Lane. You belong in the big city—you’re too good, no, great—for such a small place. Deep down you know that.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, staring at my reflection in the mirror.Was Holden right?I’d come home to be with my family. Then the space for the bakery on Main Street became available, and Mars had agreed to come down and help me out. I knew he was using his experience at my bakery as a blueprint for opening one of his own down the line. But all the stars had aligned and now Holden was throwing a ripple in my perfectly smooth frosting.

“Thanks, Holden, for the vote of confidence, but I don’t know…”

“Just think about it, Lane. You could be back in New York by Christmas.”

I closed my eyes, envisioning the busy streets packed with people hustling this way and that, hearing the honking of the taxis, the whirring of sirens, the rush of traffic when the streetlight turned green. A gaping pit yawned open in my gut; as much as I loved my family, I missed the excitement of the city.

“Fine. I’ll think about it. But I do have to go now. I have a grand opening to get to.”

“Good luck today. I’m sure you’ll wow everyone with your pastry skills. You had a great teacher.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Mmm-hmm. Thanks, Holden.”

“I’ll need an answer before Christmas, Lane. Chat soon.”

Then the phone went dead. I tossed it on the counter and exhaled, long and loud. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, now I had a huge decision to make.

4

Quinn

Friday was a busy day at the station: one house fire, two medical calls, and not even kidding, one cat stuck in a tree. But I was glad I didn’t have a lot of free time to sit around and think about my surprise package. Now I was bone-tired, though, and happy to be going off-duty for the weekend. Weekends were always crazy—people lose their damn minds come five P.M. on Friday. I was looking forward to some downtime, a cold beer atThe Rowdy, maybe hanging with my brother, Ryder.

“Yo, Quinn!” Josh called as I snatched my keys out of my locker. “You heading over to the bakery for the grand opening?”

Slamming the locker door shut, I quickly debated my answer. On the one hand, I was exhausted and really just wanted to decompress alone in my apartment. Despite my best efforts, I’d been shoving thoughts of Delaney out of my mind for the last twenty-four hours, so showing up at her bakery seemed counterproductive. On the other hand, Josh was standing here basically giving me the green light—in fact, encouraging it—so maybe I could just pop over and check it out.

“I could swing over, see how it’s going, I guess.”

“I’d appreciate that, man. I’m still on the clock for another twelve, so I can’t make it. I know she’d appreciate the support. This bakery is her everything right now. She’s put all of her energy into it since, you know, our mom passed...” An awkward silence crept into the conversation, and I rushed in to rescue Josh from spiraling down the dark hole of fresh grief.

“No problem, man. Consider it done.”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.” He patted me on the back and a pang of guilt twisted in my gut.

Ignoring it, I said, “We’re good, dude. I’m on it.” I spun my lock, shot Josh a wave, and headed over toLanie’s.

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