about ending it I felt sick in my guts.
I wanted her in my life.
I’d end up pushing her out of my life.
Which meant the kind thing, the honest thing, would be to finish it now before either of us got invested.
Too late for me. I was already in way too deep and flailing like a drowning guy. Desperate to grab onto the nearest buoy, which happened to be my brother returning to work.
‘You wait here and I’ll go get the car—’
‘What’s wrong?’ Remy stopped me by stabbing my foot with a crutch. ‘Did something bad happen between you and Abby?’
‘We’re fine,’ I said, summoning a latent acting skill I’d honed to great effect as a kid, knowing it would fool Remy. He’d never seen through my fake bravado, from the first time I tried to hide my tears at age eight when Dad yelled at me for looking like ‘that useless French slut who trapped me into marrying her’ to the many times since Mum died and his systemic verbal abuse made me feel worthless and useless like nothing else could.
At the time, I’d resented Remy for not being around, for not seeing enough, for not doing anything. I’d hated him deep down for being caught up in his apprenticeship and his schooling and his dreams of running a patisserie one day.
But as Dad’s emotional torture had escalated, I’d been glad Remy hadn’t been around to notice. Dad had ruined my life; I didn’t want him tainting Remy’s as well. Remy was a good guy. He looked after me when he could. I was lucky to have him as a brother.
After Dad died, Remy had broached the topic of my obvious animosity towards our father once. I’d ended up throwing Dad’s prized beer stein against the wall, smashing it to smithereens and laughing hysterically. Remy had put my tantrum down to grief and the teenage hormones of a fifteen-year-old running wild but, thankfully, he’d never brought up the subject since.
So I summoned those infamous acting skills now to force a nonchalant grin. ‘It’s been great working alongside her.’
Remy’s eyes narrowed, pinning me with a glare that said he didn’t believe my bullshit, not this time. ‘I’m not talking about work and you know it.’
‘We’ve had fun.’ I shrugged, feigning indifference I didn’t feel, wishing that damn ache in my chest would quit sooner rather than later. ‘We’re good.’
‘Had, as in past tense?’ Judgement laced his tone. ‘So you’re over?’
Feeling like a prick for lying to my brother yet again, I nodded. ‘You know me. I’m not built to last.’
‘You’re full of crap.’ Remy snorted, shook his head. ‘She’s a great girl. You’re staying in town. Why not see where this can go?’
I knew exactly where this would go. Down the toilet.
‘I’ll get the car,’ I said, stalking away.
My usual MO and I’d stick to it.
I just hoped Abby would understand.
Abby
ENJOYING A RARE lull after the morning rush, I sipped on a soy latte in the kitchen, mentally sorting the baking tasks for this afternoon.
However, every time I got to item three on my to-do list, thoughts of Tanner would intrude, ensuring all my concentration focussed on him and him alone.
It was no use denying it any longer. I’d fallen for him.
And I’d almost made the fatal mistake of telling him this morning.
It had been so comfortable, so easy, waking up next to him, making idle chatter about our day ahead. There’d been a moment, a drawn-out fraught moment, where I’d thought he was on the same page as me. He’d stared into my eyes, taken my hand and opened his mouth to say something.
I’d held my breath, waiting for him to say he didn’t want this to end. That he wanted to explore a relationship. That he wanted me for more than a few weeks.
Instead, he’d raised my hand to his lips, brushed a kiss across the back of it, before rolling on top of me and consuming me whole.
He did it very well, distracting me with his body, bringing me to life in a way I’d never dreamed possible. So I’d given over to the pleasure, biding my time.
I’d tell him. Soon. And hope to God he wouldn’t run.
He’d left my apartment early, citing an appointment, but something had been off. Almost like he’d closed down after our monumental wake-up sex.
Maybe he’d sensed my impending revelation? Maybe he’d been tired from the few hours’ sleep we’d got yet again? Whatever the reason, he’d be back to help out any second and I’d keep things strictly professional in the kitchen before asking him to a cosy dinner tonight.
Where I’d lay it all on the line.
The back door creaked open and I straightened, my hand drifting unconsciously to my hair and tucking stray strands into the net holding it off my face.
Tanner strode through the door, his expression unreadable as he held it wide open and waited.
‘Hey, what’s... Remy?’ I squealed as my boss hobbled into the kitchen, a grin as wide as the Harbour Bridge splitting his face. ‘What are you doing here?’
I flew across the kitchen to give him a tender hug, surprised but thrilled to see him.
‘Doc discharged me early because I’m healing well. So I’m back on deck.’ He mock frowned and glared around the kitchen. ‘Lucky for you, everything seems to be in order.’
I whacked him on the arm. ‘Tanner and I have not only held down the fort, we’ve filled major orders and turned a handy profit.’
‘Remind me to give you a raise.’ Remy’s eyes twinkled with warmth. ‘Seriously, kid, you’ve done an amazing job and I can’t be more grateful.’ He half turned to Tanner, who hadn’t moved from the door. ‘To both of you.’
‘He’s back to the mushy stuff,’ Tanner said, rolling his eyes, and I chuckled. ‘Let’s get him set up on a stool or chair or something, so he can start issuing orders and be a general bossy pain in the ass.’
The bell from the front of the patisserie tinkled, indicating a customer. ‘I’ll have to get that. Makayla popped out and Shaun called in sick today.’
Remy waved me away. ‘Go. Tanner will get me set up.’
‘Great to have you back.’ I gave him another impulsive hug before bounding down the corridor towards the front of the patisserie.
And pulled up short when I saw who the customer was.
‘What are you doing here?’ I half closed
