Page 48 of You Cake My Breath Away

“Yup.” I leave the treats with him to try while I’m not there. I can’t bear to watch while he decides if he likes them or not.

Heading to the bakery, I wonder if Archer’s already there. Shantel let it slip that he’s got another interview for that job soon, and I can’t deny the sadness I feel thinking about it. Once the bakery is finished, I won’t see him anymore, unless he comes to Sunday dinners at Nora’s. With his plan to leave, I’m not holding my breath. I think it’s why I’m still trying to deny these feelings bouncing around my chest. I don't want to give someone else my heart and then have to watch them leave me.

I wouldn’t survive it.

I stop by the cafe and grab a latte for me and Archer. We haven’t spoken outside of a few texts since last night, and the last time I actually saw him, I left him there with Deidre. To be honest, I’m worried. He said Jessie wasn’t the reason he was still working at the bakery, which means he’s there because of me. It was the most I’ve gotten him to open up, the most honest he’s been in years. But if he can’t be transparent and talk to me, how do I tell him I’m interested but scared?

Screamo blares through the speakers as I approach the bakery, and pedestrians move to the other side of the street to get away from the sound. He’s already scaring off my customers before I even open. Pushing through the door, I speed walk to the radio and turn it down.

“What the heck was that?” I ask.

It takes a beat to realize his shirt is off, the ripped muscles of his abs stealing my breath. He’s covered in sweat, and my tongue darts out like it can taste the salty flavor of his skin.

“I brought you a coffee.” I hold up the paper cup, my gaze refusing to lift from where his muscles take a sharp curve down his hips and into his jeans.

“My eyes are up here,” he says.

Heat rises to my cheeks as he chuckles and grabs his shirt.

Stopping myself from booing takes superhuman effort.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He takes the drink from my hands. “But thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Your hair looks beautiful.”

I struggle to contain my grin by chewing on the side of my lip. “Thanks.”

He takes the lid off the cup and chugs the latte. A thin strip of foam is left on his lips and without thought I reach up and swipe my thumb across it, the pad of my finger brushing against his soft lips. His sharp gasp makes my center clench. He steps back like I’ve hit him and brings his hand to his mouth.

“Sorry.” Electricity zings around my chest, and my cheeks flame.Why did I do that? What on Earth made me reach out and touch him like he was…mine?

“No, it’s fine.” He looks down at his shoe, and I curse myself for making it awkward. My first time initiating any physical contact with him, and I ruined it.

I’m such an idiot.

I clear my throat. “Thanks for the compliment, though.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence descends over us. My eyes bounce around the room, taking in all that still needs to be done. I’ve ordered the metro shelves, stainless steel tables, and coolers for the back of the bakery. Thankfully there was already a stove and some cabinets from whatever company was here prior.

“The wall looks great.” I gesture to the freshly painted wall with shelving hung and a cabinet beneath it. “All it needs is a sign.”

He rubs the back of his neck and pulls out the poker chip he keeps with him, flipping it a few times. I imagine it’s an obsessive trait at this point, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

“There are a few signs you can choose from at my garage,” he says, kicking the toe of his boot against the wood pile.

“Jessie had signs made?” Giddiness takes over my emotions and I smile wide.

His expression doesn’t match mine and I realize I’ve somehow offended him. I know it’s difficult for him. He planned to work on this place with Jessie, and instead, he got me. I’ve tried not to give what Shantel and Zevia said too much thought, but could they have been right? Could Archer have been pushing me away all this time because he’s been attracted to me and felt bad? Would he be honest if I asked him?

“Let me show you.” He walks past me and out the door to his truck.

“Now?” I ask, following him.

He opens the passenger side door and shuts it when I get inside. Leather mixes with Archer’s cologne to make the sexiest scent in the world. I close my eyes, inhaling like I want that smell to become part of my DNA. He gets in, pulling his notebook from his pocket and placing it on the dash. The truck roars to life, vibrating beneath me.

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