Page 17 of Sweet Southern Heat

He looked at it with disinterest and muttered his thanks before walking out the door.

I was at a loss. It didn’t appear that he’d softened to me at all despite trying to show him kindness. He was hell bent on hating me, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

There was one thing, a voice in the back of my mind reminded me. I could tell him the truth about that night. Then again, he probably wouldn’t believe me. I’d just be wasting my breath, and in the end, he would still hold a grudge against me. I sighed, resigned to be the villain in Landon’s version of our story.

Two hours later, I was finishing up a special order that needed to be delivered to the elementary school. Mina and Roxi were both here, so I let them know I was heading out and to call if they needed anything.

The more I worked with them, the more I wanted to stick around and see if I could really do this, if I could run the bakery just like my nan had always intended. I enjoyed what I did. Baking was my passion. It was an art form all on its own, and I lost myself to it, especially when I was stressed or worried. It made the decisions I was faced with that much harder, and I was running out of time. My job in Atlanta wouldn’t wait on me forever. I had a few more weeks of vacation time left, so the clock was ticking. Yet I hadn’t bothered to look for a buyer or talk to any real estate agents about selling the building. I was still holding out for … something. I just didn’t know what.

I pulled up to the elementary school and parked in a visitor spot. Hefting the boxes of cupcakes, I made my way to the entrance. The kindergarten class was having their end of the year party, and the teachers all pitched in to get a special treat for them. I had a blast making miniature graduation caps out of fondant to top each cupcake with. Perhaps it was a bit much for a bunch of six-year-olds who probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra effort I’d put into the decorations, but I thought it was cute.

I paused when I made it to the door, wondering how I would open it with my hands full. As I contemplated propping the boxes on one hip to free a hand—which could be risky if I didn’t maintain perfect balance—a voice called out from behind me.

“Let me get that for you.” Bobby Rawlins rushed to the door and gripped the handle, opening it wide so I could fit all the boxes through the doorway. The main office was guarded by the secretary who’d been there for as long as I could remember. She looked up at the sound of my approach and peered at me over the rim of her glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her gaze scrutinizing. I felt like I was a kid again, coming to school late after oversleeping.

“I have cupcakes for the kindergartners,” I offered with a smile.

“I’ll let someone know you’re here,” she announced apathetically.

“I’m here to pick up Gracey for a dentist appointment,” Bobby announced, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The secretary nodded and picked up her phone.

Bobby turned to me, a beaming smile curving his lips beneath a dark, heavy mustache. He was a nice guy who always had a friendly word of greeting. Unlike his coworker, Landon. They worked together at the garage, and though I’d seen him around, I hadn’t talked to him since returning to town.

“I just wanted to thank you for all the goodies you’ve been sending to the garage with Landon,” he said. Well, that answered the question of what he did with my peace offerings. He was taking them to Murphy’s to share with the crew. It made sense. His dad was diabetic, so it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to bring home sugary treats.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, pleased that Landon and the guys were enjoying the baked goods, and they weren’t going to waste.

“I just don’t know how Landon resists,” he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “He never eats any of it. He must be on one of those new-age gluten-free diets or something.” My smile faltered, and my stomach soured.

“Never?” I asked, searching for clarity. Maybe it was an exaggeration, and he just usually didn’t eat a lot of sweets.

“Not even once,” he confirmed, and my heart sank. No wonder Landon seemed so indifferent whenever I gave him a box of treats. He hadn’t even bothered to try them. He’d given them away like they were nothing to him. At least they didn’t end up in the trash, andsomeonegot to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

“Although,” Bobby continued, his expression turning thoughtful, “he did walk in empty handed this morning, so maybe he finally tried them and what you sent was so good, he ate it all,” he said with a chuckle. My face fell, and his eyes widened at my expression.

“Unless … I mean…” Bobby tripped over his words as my mind reeled with possibilities. There was no way Landon had eaten all of those cinnamon rolls. He would’ve had the worst bellyache of his life or fallen into a sugar coma. So what had he done with them? Surely, he hadn’t left them in his truck. They would be a mushy, gooey mess after sitting in the hot sun all day. “If you didn’t send anything with him today, that’s totally fine,”Bobby said, breaking into my thoughts. “We don’t expect you to. I-it was just a nice treat, and we all appreciated it.”

I forced a smile and placed a comforting hand on Bobby’s arm. “I was busy this morning, so it must’ve slipped my mind. I’ll send something for you guys tomorrow.”

“You’re the best, Olivia. The guys and I will be sad when Landon’s done working at the bakery,” he joked. Before I could respond, the doors to the office opened, and two teachers came through. I handed over the boxes and thanked them for their order.

“It was nice seeing you,” I said to Bobby as I turned to leave.

“See you around!” Bobby called as his daughter burst through the door. She practically tackled him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her face to his chest. I silently slipped out the door and walked to my car, a sense of melancholy settling behind my ribs. Landon hadn’t touched even one of my creations. He’d all but rejected my peace offering. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want Landon’s contempt. Hell, I would settle for indifference at this point. If I was going to consider sticking around town, I needed to make peace with him.

When I returned to the bakery, I checked on the girls up front. They had it under control, so I set to work cleaning up my mess from earlier. I’d been in a rush to get to the school and had left my workstation in disarray. Once my space was sparkling clean again, I gathered up the trash to take to the dumpster. I lifted the lid to toss in the bag, and something caught my eye. Bright midday sun reflected off the stark white box. Pulse pounding in my ears, I reached a trembling hand toward it. Instinctively, I knew what it was. It had the bakery’s emblem on it, and it was the exact same size as the box I'd given Landon this morning. I held my breath as I lifted the lid and breathed out a curse when I saw what was inside.

Cinnamon rolls.

Fuming, I stomped back inside and went to the sink, furiously scrubbing my hands. Maybe it was irrational. Maybe it was even a little ridiculous, but I was pissed. For the past few weeks, I’d tried to bridge the gap between Landon and me. I’d tried to bury the hatchet and move on from the past. I was tired of playing nice and trying to win him over. Maybe now it was time to reveal the truth.

Bracing my hands on the counter, I weighed my options. I couldn’t exactly broach the subject while he was working on the renovations, so I’d have to catch him outside of here. A plan began to formulate in my mind, and I quickly set to work. Pulling my apron over my head, I set out my mixing bowls and grabbed the almond flour from the cabinet. I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing my final peace offering. If this didn’t work, nothing would.

Just as I suspected, Landon's truck was the only one left at the garage when I pulled up. It wasn’t unusual for him to work late to finish up a car for a customer. I suspected that was how mine got fixed so quickly. Murphy had told me the parts wouldn’t be in until late on a Friday, and it would be Monday at the earliest before I could pick it up, but it was miraculously ready Saturday morning. Landon had wanted me gone, and I wouldn’t put it past him to spend his Friday night fixing my car to make that happen. Joke was on him. He wasn’t getting rid of me now.

All the bays were closed, but I could hear music playing from inside. He was definitely here. I knocked three times and waited.

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