Page 15 of Sweet Southern Heat

My skin tingledat the memory of Landon’s hands on me. I tried to forget. I really did, but the jolt of electricity was hard to ignore. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt with his brother.

That thought sobered me. Landon’s brother had been my first, my future, my everything before it all went sideways. We’d been dating for two years at the time of the accident, but for six months prior, things were different.Hewas different. I couldn’t put my finger on it until that night. It was his eyes that gave it away and the anger with which he grabbed me when I told him I wouldn’t take him to get more beer. He’d never lost control like that. He must’ve taken something he’d never used before.

The sound of a truck engine snapped me from the memories. A moment later, Landon’s truck pulled in next to mine at the back of the bakery. I shut my car off and got out so I could unlock the door while he gathered his things.

And so I don’t have to talk to him.

Not that he usually talked to me at this time in the morning. He only responded with grunts and scowls before nine a.m. Coincidentally, that was when he finished up here and headed to his job at the garage. If he was that way with them, I didn’t know.

Despite his surliness, he did amazing work. My deck was in tip-top shape, and you couldn’t tell anything was ever wrong with it. Not only had he done quality work, he was efficient and finished faster than I would’ve thought possible.

I jumped when the back door slammed shut and whirled around to face Landon. His hands were full, leaving him no way of easing the door closed. It didn’t have the same special hinge the front door had that kept it from slamming shut behind customers. Perhaps I needed to get one.

“Sorry about that,” Landon grumbled, his voice deep and scratchy as though this was the first time he’d used it since waking up this morning. And it was sexy as hell.

Nope, not sexy. It was utterly unattractive the way he growled and grunted.

Right.

“It’s okay,” I let out in a rush. “We can prop it open if you have more to bring in.”

“Yeah, that would help,” he replied, his brows drawing together in consideration. He was starting on the floors today and would have to carry in heavy boxes of tile and buckets of … whatever that white substance was that they used to attach the tiles to the subfloor. There would only be a small path from the front door to the bakery case for customers to walk in and get their treats for the next few days while Landon removed the old flooring in the rest of the room. The plastic had been moved to encompass most of the shop minus that small area, which would be completed later this week.

Without another word, Landon went to the front and dropped off his supplies, returning for another round a moment later. The situation from Saturday flashed in my mind as he carried in another load. He’d made several trips for supplies when I could’ve offered to make things easier for him. I’d waitedtoo long then, but this time, I would act sooner. Before I could think through my next move, I opened my mouth to speak.

“Do you need any help?” He barely spared me a sidelong glance before replying.

“No,” he said simply and disappeared into the dark again. My face heated at his quick dismissal and frigid tone. What happened to the man from Saturday whose eyes blazed and touch burned into my skin? I thought I’d cracked that tough exterior just a little bit, but it appeared I was wrong. He was even more disagreeable than usual, and that was saying a lot.

I left him to his task and set to work, preparing buttercream for the cupcakes I’d baked yesterday. My mind frequently wandered back to Landon, and a blush tinged my cheeks as I recalled his chiseled torso and muscular arms. I didn’t remember them being quite that big the last time I'd seen him before moving home.

It was that day in the grocery store when I’d squared off with him over a bag of fresh cranberries. And he’d won. His words had struck the winning blow, and I’d scurried away with my tail tucked between my legs.

Just like back then, Landon blamed me for the accident that had shattered Lyle’s leg and ended his dreams of playing football. Lyle hated this town and always talked about how we would get out one day. He’d play college football then enter the draft. The plan was for me to follow wherever he got a scholarship and get my business degree. My passion was culinary arts, but he’d convinced me to pursue business so we could stay together no matter where he went. And I was just young and dumb enough to go along with it.

When my car flew down that embankment and slammed into that tree, those plans evaporated and drifted away like the smoke from my engine. Lyle’s leg was crushed, his tibia and fibula shattered and ankle mangled. How they’d managed to puteverything back together so he could walk again was a mystery to me. I could’ve found out. I could’ve gone to see him, but I was afraid. I couldn’t face him after what he’d done. After all, he’d tried to kill me that night. And by some miracle, he’d failed. All he’d killed was his future. But everyone blamed me.

The rumors spread almost immediately that I’d been drinking. I hadn’t. I usually didn’t when Lyle and I were together since I always had to drive. But once that rumor took hold, it spread like wildfire. It didn’t matter that they tested my blood alcohol level at the hospital where I was treated for some minor cuts and bruises and sprained wrist. Everyone assumed all my injuries were from the wreck, but my wrist was hurt before we even got in the car.

To this day, it still ached, especially when it rained or when I kneaded and rolled dough. It never was right after falling on it. It had taken the brunt of my weight when Lyle shoved me to the ground.

I blinked away those memories and returned to my task. I didn’t want to think about that night—or Lyle—anymore. It was hard to forget about him with his brother’s close proximity even though they were nothing alike. The only trait they shared were those piercing blue eyes. That was where the similarities ended. Where Landon had dark hair, Lyle’s was dirty blond, just like their mother’s judging by the old photos he’d shown me once. Where Lyle was the life of the party, always socializing and trying to be the center of attention, Landon hung back in the shadows, quietly observing. Lyle, the jokester and class clown, was nothing like his surly, brooding older brother. For some reason, I found their differences refreshing.

The low hum of a power tool whirring to life sounded from the other room, and a smile tilted my lips. I was so glad to be getting rid of that ugly, dated tile and installing a more modern and sleek design. Popping in my earbuds to drown outthe construction sounds, I spent the next two and half hours creating a selection of baked goods sure to sell out by the end of the day, including my favorite pastry. Éclairs. They were my specialty. Every time I made them, they sold out by lunch. Today, I was making extra so I could send some with Landon.

I had just closed the lid on the box with the éclairs when Landon strode through the kitchen. He stopped next to the island, his eyes scanning over the contents cooling there. I watched him closely to see if they lingered on anything longer than the rest so I would know what he liked. His gaze lifted to mine, and he scowled. I almost giggled but managed to suppress my amusement. I had the feeling he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Would it be okay to leave the tile saw here? I don’t want to haul it back and forth.” I didn’t blame him. It looked heavy. Besides, he’d be back tomorrow to use it.

“Of course,” I agreed easily, and he nodded his thanks. Ever a man of few words. I walked toward him, box in hand, and his shoulders stiffened. I chewed on the inside of my lip nervously, unsure how he would react to another offering.

“This is for you.” I held the box out to him, and he took it with a skeptical tilt to his brow.

“Again?” he asked, lifting the box in question.

“Yeah,” I replied nervously with an awkward shrug. “I just wanted to thank you for all your hard work here at the bakery and for getting my deck fixed so quickly.”

His jaw ticced, and he leveled his unimpressed gaze on me.

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