Page 47 of Rebel Heart
But that text was one I couldn’t ignore. It made me believe that there was at least one thing Beau knew about me that went beyond just the physical relationship we’d had.
Sadly, ever since I sent him a recipe two days ago that I thought he’d be able to manage easily, I hadn’t heard anything from him. I could only assume that he’d either made the attempt, and it didn’t go well, or he hadn’t tried at all.
The worst thing about it all was that I’d been fighting not to reach out to him myself to see if he’d had any luck. I hated that I cared at all.
“I don’t think just anyone would do what you’ve done,” Serena said, cutting into my thoughts. “You’re one of a kind, Jules.”
Warmth spread through me. “Are you two buttering me up for something? This sure is a lot of good praise this early in the morning.’
“Don’t forget we just told you that you look like you haven’t slept in days,” Birdie reminded me.
“Yeah, but you said I’m always gorgeous, too.”
They forced awkward smiles on their faces. “Of course, you are.”
I rolled my eyes. Evidently, they’d been lying, and I looked hideous. “Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. As long as you two get back to work right now, I’ll go home tonight and stay there, so I can get a good night of sleep.”
My recent shenanigans to deal with all that I was feeling were really starting to take their toll, anyway. I had to let my body rest for once, even if it meant my mind wouldn’t.
“Deal.”
With that, the three of us got back to work. And the next few hours passed in a flash at the bakery. With kids finally out of school, families taking trips, and the beautiful weather, Westwood’s was busy day after day. Any thoughts of Beau were pushed, at least temporarily, to the back of my mind.
We worked nonstop for several hours straight, barely having a moment to take each of our individual breaks for lunch. Like usual, things slowed down just after three o’clock in the afternoon. Most guests at Westwood’s were usually occupied with activities at this point in the day, particularly the theme park, so it gave us an opportunity to breathe and prepare for the wave that would follow just after dinner.
Thirty minutes later, it was time for Birdie to leave. With Serena only working part time, I tried to make sure that Birdie and I both got the occasional early day off during the week. Of course, that also coincided with working later when the weekend rolled around.
“Okay, I’m out of here,” she declared.
“Sounds good. Have a great night, Birdie.”
“I will. And you better find a way to get some sleep tonight.”
I waved my hand in the air dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
My eyes followed her as she left, a wave of gratitude washing over me. It would’ve been difficult not to feel thankful to have someone like her in my life. Not only was she an excellent addition to my team here at The Mixing Bowl, but she was also a great friend.
I smiled as it hit me just how lucky I was. Sure, there were areas of my life—one, in particular—that were creating a bit of a problem for me, but I really didn’t have any reason to complain. I had a wonderful family, good friends, and a business I loved. Maybe, after giving myself the chance to get a good night of rest tonight, if I continued to go out dancing or to visit the pub, I might find what I was looking for in that other area of my life.
But as quickly as that smile had formed on my face, it vanished. Because my gaze had drifted away from Birdie and through the sea of individuals gathered around with their families and friends, catching sight of someone walking in my direction.
Beau Easton.
And he looked as handsome as ever.
My heart hammered, and my lungs stopped functioning at the sight of him. Weeks had passed since I saw him last, and if there had been any progress for me infinding a way to move past the hurt, because I’d jumped in far too quickly with him, that progress was gone.
God, he was handsome.
And there was something about the way he was looking at me now that had my knees feeling weak.
I couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t fall victim to his charm, only to be tossed out like yesterday’s trash. Maybe that hadn’t exactly been Beau’s intention from the start; perhaps he’d just assumed I wanted the same thing he did, but it didn’t change how I wound up feeling in the end.
There was little I would have done to have a rush at the bakery right now. At least that would allow me to keep whatever this was about to be as brief as possible. Each step he took toward me matched the thundering in my chest, and I was, by no means, prepared for whatever this was as he made that final approach.
Beau came to a stop on the opposite side of the counter, and his eyes roamed over me in a way I’d never experienced from anyone in my life. If I didn’t know any better, I might have believed the look in his eyes was that of relief, regret, hope, and despair all rolled into one.
“Hi, Jules.”
