Page 15 of Blindside Sinner

Brushing those thoughts away, I finally make it to the kitchen and the woman who very obviously commands it.

The woman I presume to be Karla is shorter than me and seems somewhere near her mid-fifties. As she bounces from the double oven on the wall to the stovetop, the only thing marring her pristine white apron is the mass of silky black curls that threaten to escape their ponytail.

She peeks over her shoulder to smile at me. I’m shocked at how warm and friendly it is coming from a total stranger. “You must be Sloan. I’m Karla. I hope you’re hungry.”

I smile back, hopping onto a barstool all nonchalant as if the smell of baked goods doesn’t have me nearly salivating. “That’s me. Please tell me I can have a bite of whatever you just made.”

She laughs. “I made it for you, so yes. Beck won’t have any during the season.”

I grimace. What kind of maniac refuses baked goods?

As if mentioning his name called him like a demon, the asshole himself strides into the kitchen just then. “Oh, look,” he drawls. “The princess is awake.”

“Be nice to the new girl!” Karla snaps her dish towel at him.

“Fine. I’ll be nice for you. Speaking of…” Beck ducks behind the counter and slips an arm over her shoulder. “Good morning, Karla. How’s my favorite person today?”

I have no idea how this woman works with Beck on the daily. The emotional whiplash is making me dizzy, and I’m just a neutral observer.

It’s different for Karla because he likes her,some part of me says. I eye their easy embrace and the way Beck gives her a soft smile. The way they’re so comfortable around each other, it’s more like they’re family.

Which makes me… what, exactly? A Peeping Tom at the window?

Just as I’m about to quietly slide off my barstool and out of the room, Karla plops the world’s biggest cinnamon roll on a plate in front of me.

There are people in this world who hesitate to eat around new acquaintances.

I’m not one of those people.

I dig into the cinnamon roll like it’s my last meal on earth and groan through the first bite. The usual sugar and cinnamon is cut through with an orange zest so fresh, I’m sure Karla grated it herself.

It is, hands down, the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

“This is incredible,” I tell her. “If all your other food is this good, I’ll let you put whatever you want in my mouth.”

Beck’s eyes snap to mine at once. The heat in them is enough to make me choke on my pastry. He leans over the counter, far too close for my liking. His lips tickle my ear as he whispers, “Careful who you make promises around, sweetness.”

Then his hand is gone and so is he, grabbing a shake from the fridge and heading out without so much as another glance my way.

I blink in confusion.What the hell was that?

Karla looks blissfully unaware as she leans across the counter toward me. “Now that Prince Moody is gone, tell me all about yourself.”

I shrug, pulling off another piece of the soft dough. “Not much to tell. Just a college dropout working three jobs to make ends meet.”

And to pay off someone else’s debts.

“Really? No hobbies? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

I snort. “No hobbies. No boy- or girlfriends. Pretty boring, like I said.”

She scrutinizes me like she sees something I don’t want her to see. “Somehow, I doubt that. You have to have grit to consider taking a job with Beck. I love that boy, but he’s a pain in the ass.” She shakes her head, laughing.

Curiosity swamps me. I figure Karla’s the perfect person to give me more information about my new charge. “How long have you known Beck?”

“Oh, most of his life. I worked for his father and followed him as soon as he could afford me.”

“So you must have plenty of stories about his wayward youth,” I joke. Although there’s probably truth to it. Naughty men start as naughty little boys.