Page 8 of Tempt

“Damn it,”I pull my hand back and immediately bring it to my mouth. Sticking my thumb between my lips I suck on it to ease the sting.

“Girl,” Gran leans over my shoulder. “Where are you mittens?” She tsks like she always does, and I can’t even roll my eyes at her because she’s right.

“You are much too young, and those hands are too pretty to be burning and scarring.” She holds out the oven mitts she bought me weeks ago.

“My hands are pretty?” I ask with a laugh, and she offers me a look like I’ve lost my mind.

“That is what I said,” she is biased, and I adore her for it. “My sweet girl, when will you see how perfect you are?”

Attempting to shy away from her comment she moves in to block my path. “Enough of this nonsense where you refuse to believe my words, you are not your momma.”

Reaching out she grips my chin but not because she is mad. It is more to ensure that I see nothing but her. “That mold has been broken with you and I will not stand by and allow you to believe you deserve anything else other than the best.”

She waits until I give her a nod that I’ve heard clearly then she offers me a kiss on the tip of my nose that makes me smile. “Now will you please put on your mittens and protect those hands.”

Lifting my hands I slide one on and then the other giving them a little shake.

“That’s my girl,” She says walking out of the kitchen and into the storage freezer.

After I remove the brownies from the oven I place them on the counter and quickly cut them into the serving squares.

Gran exits the freezer and moves around the kitchen mixing her next batch of goodies while I spend entirely too much time arranging the brownies into some fancy arrangement.

“I’m gonna go add these to the display case, before people start hurrying in for the afternoon rush.”

“Sounds good, just holler if you need me.”

Pushing through the swinging door and moving around Casey, who is our part-time employee, I start adding the freshly made brownies to the display case. Once finished I slide the doors shut and start back toward the kitchen.

“Can you put out those two pies sweetheart?” Gran points toward the apple and peach freshly made and cut to serving slices.

“Sure thing,” the cinnamon scent filling my senses as I lift the apple. The sweet sugary aroma of the peach mixes and I lean in breathing it in deeper. I’ve grown up always remembering the lingering smells of something baking whenever I’d go to Gran’s. The smell is something I associate with safety and comfort. A nostalgic feeling hits me every single time I enter Sugarland, because it reminds me that no matter what, Gran was and still is my safe place.

“It doesn’t matter that I am thirty-seven years old and a mother of two, that right there brings back my youth and leaves me feeling a little tingly.” I find Casey fanning her face as she stares out the front window.

I follow her line of sight and immediately my heart begins to race, but for entirely different reasons.

Garrett closes the door to his red truck, swiping his hand through his dark hair, and starts to walk toward the front door of Sugarland. With each step he takes, my world shifts a little more.

What must he think of me?

Because of me, he now has a record.

The bell above the door chimes and never have I heard it so loudly. The ringing echoes over the bakery and I hold my breath from the fear that races through me.

“Morning,” he says, not sure if it's meant for me or Casey. But she is the first to respond, because I can’t seem to get my mouth to work.

“Good morning to you too,” her voice much higher than normal and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You stop by for something sweet?”

I glance up and find him smiling, flashing those sexy little dimples of his.

“Actually I was hoping that I could talk to Kyra for a minute.”

If it was possible to swallow my own tongue I think I would right here and now.

“Oh,” Casey says, turning her attention to me. “Well, I think I’ll step into the back and see if Gran needs any help.”

She is so obvious it's achingly embarrassing.

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