Page 135 of The Reluctant Wife

“You’re looking for a bailout.”

“Excuse me?” I gape at him.

“Your business is in trouble. You need money to pay off your debts.”

My flush intensifies. Heat crawls up my cheeks, all the way to the roots of hair, followed closely by anger.How dare he walk in and throw my failure in my face? How dare he not talk to me all these years, only to reappear at the worst possible moment? And right after my brother told me it was my destiny come-a-calling when the bell to the shop rang.

“Wait, did Ben put you up this?”

“Eh?” He stares at my lips. His gaze is so intent that the frisson of awareness, which has crackled up my spine since he arrived, flares into a full-blown shiver. I shake my head, ignoring the buzz of electricity that has always hummed between us. “Are you here because Ben asked you to help me out?”

A weird look comes into his eyes. He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I’m here because my grandfather is the chairman of the Davenport Group of companies, and he thinks your bakery would make for a good investment.”

“He does?”

“I’m yet to be convinced.” He crosses his arms across his chest.

So that’s how it's gonna be, eh?

He glances toward the counter, taking in the various desserts on display, and his frown deepens. I follow his gaze and take in the tray of cupcakes displayed: Sp1cy Scene, Red Room, Velvet Ties, Purple Patches, Cave Wonder, The Vanilla Vajayjay, The Earth Moved… You have to admit, they’re innovative names for the treats.

I named the first one in jest, but it proved to be a hot topic of discussion among fellow spicy book readers like me. Before I knew it, I'd ended up naming many of my desserts in a similar vein.

In fact, the dessert shaped like the backside of a woman and called Spanked is one that customers seem to love. Then there's my other hit, a chocolate cake shaped like a vibrator and called C!itasaurus. Yep, they love that one. Also, another raspberry-infused one in the shape of a peach called Moist Goodness, not to forget the honey-glazed fruit cake in the form of a beehive called the Honey Pot, and the strawberry and cream-topped, fig-shaped shortbread I named Sweet Bits. Finally, the doughnut-shaped dark chocolate glazed treat called—you guessed it—A1phah0le, which readers love when I cater at book events.

You’d think business is booming, and I certainly have my share of loyal customers, but it’s not enough to keep me in the black. I need to bring in new customers, and a lot more of them.

He stabs his forefinger at the display. "Is this a joke?"

Skylar

A-n-d that was the absolutely wrong thing to say. No one insults my baby—my bakery, my dream—and gets away unscathed.

"I can assure you; they are popular amongst my customers."

He turns those searing eyes on me, and it feels like I’m looking into the depths of a frozen lake. The surface seems able to bear my weight, but one wrong step, and I’m going to fall right through and find myself trapped. I try to breathe, but all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out by his presence. My pulse crashes in my ears, and my nerve endings are so tightly stretched, I fear they’ll snap any second. And when he shoves a hand in his pocket, pulling the fabric of his pants taut over that bulge between his legs, a slow thud flares to life between mine.

Icannotfind him attractive. Cannot risk acknowledging this chemistry that thickens the air between us. Not when I need hishelp to save my business. Not when I know who he is, and he’s definitely out-of-bounds. Forbidden. Sirens go off in my mind.Back away. It’s not worth taking on the humungous backlog of complications that are going to come with having anything to do with him.

Then a look of boredom crosses his face. He yawns, and my pulse rate shoots up.

Strike out everything I felt earlier. It’s definitely worth taking on every challenge that comes with getting him to cough up money, because by God, he needs to realize the world doesn’t revolve around him. How can anyone be this full of himself? This insensitive?

Anger squeezes my chest. Adrenaline laces my blood.And how dare he turn the most important meeting of my life into… into… something that doesn’t merit even a few seconds of his attention?

"I’ve seen everything I need to see. Goodbye." He turns to leave.

What the—? He’s leaving? Does that mean he’s decided against investing in the bakery? Think! You need to say something to stop him. You cannot afford to piss off the one guy who might be able to help save your bakery.

"Wait, don’t you want to taste my wares?" I burst out.

He freezes mid-step. His shoulders seem to swell. The planes of his back rise and fall, and the jacket pulls even tighter.Is he going to burst out of his skin and go all Hulk on me?I swallow. And when he turns slowly and makes a growling sound at the back of his throat, I have to stop the yelp that almost spills from my mouth. Every single cell in my body has woken up and is doing the hula.Stop that. You can’t feel this drawn to this… To this arrogant beast who rejected you.

But I also need his help. I have to save my business from going bust. And if that means swallowing my pride, then so be it.I tip up my chin and straighten my back. "I… I mean, maybe you want to taste my Honey Pot?"Ugh. Didn’t mean it to come out like that.

His left eyelid, the one covering his blue eye, twitches, and he seems one step closer to either having a breakdown or walking away. Neither of which is desirable.

"Oh,Fraggle Rock. What I meant to say is, you’ll definitely like the Purple Patches." I point to the range of cupcakes showcased under the counter.

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