The Dare Collection: March 2018. Nicola Marsh
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I stuck out my hand. ‘Good to meet you.’
‘You too.’ Shaun placed the trays on the counter and shook my hand. Firmly. Earning him brownie points. ‘Abby texted me earlier to let me know he’s going to be okay. That’s good news.’
‘Sure is.’ The kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen yet for some reason the thought of Abby texting him about anything stung. Pathetic. ‘Have you been working here long?’
‘Two months,’ he said, shooting Abby a scared look, like he expected I’d fire him on the spot. ‘I’ve enrolled at a college to do pastry work, and I need the hours here as part of an apprenticeship.’
‘You’re in the right place.’ I tempered my tone so the kid wouldn’t look so damn frightened. ‘Remy’s the best.’
‘He sure is.’ A woman sauntered out from the corridor linking the shop to the kitchen.
If Abby was ice, this one was fire.
Flaming red hair, deep blue eyes and the body of a lithe goddess. She moved like a dancer, confidence and strength, like she knew her place in the world and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. A stunner. Yet I felt nothing but appreciation for her as a beautiful woman, whereas Abby turned me on with a tilt of her snooty nose.
Go figure.
‘Hi, I’m Makayla Tarrant, waitress extraordinaire.’ She held out her hand and I shook it, a little relieved when there was no zing. ‘Hope you’re ready to roll up your shirtsleeves and get to work. Remy doesn’t appreciate slackers around here.’
Abby appeared outraged, shoulders drawn back and icy glare back in full force, and I laughed, liking the other woman already.
‘You’ll be pleased to know I intend to work as hard as the rest of you while I’m here.’ I pushed up my sleeves for emphasis, liking when Abby’s gaze drifted to my forearms.
She’d been mesmerised when I’d done it earlier at the café, like she’d never seen ink before. A blush had appeared on her cheeks as she’d studied me, and I’d had the craziest impulse to strip off and show her exactly how much ink covered my body and where.
‘Good, then let’s get started.’ Abby cleared her throat, oddly brusque, and that blush was back.
Oh, yeah, showing her the rest of my tats could be fun.
‘Nice meeting you both,’ I said, with a wave at Makayla and Shaun.
Shaun shot me a nervous smile and Makayla nodded, her gaze assessing, like she couldn’t figure me out.
Join the long line, honey.
Abby strode down the corridor that led to the kitchen, and I followed, the aroma of sugar and cinnamon and buttery goodness getting stronger with every step.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Sadness clogged my throat. Potent. Disorienting.
When she opened a door marked ‘Office’ off the corridor, I’d never been more grateful.
I couldn’t enter the kitchen right now, not when some strange nostalgia gripped me, making me yearn for a past I’d left behind a long time ago.
‘Remy’s very organised, so you’ll find everything documented in spreadsheets. Supply order forms. Current stock. Online orders. The works...’ She trailed off as I slammed the door, wishing I could do the same on the memories swamping me. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ I growled, annoyed that she was so insightful. ‘Continue the induction.’
‘No.’ She folded her arms, her superiority annoying me as much as the relentless memories of how much I missed Mum. ‘For some reason, being here has you rattled, and I need to know why so we can fix it.’
‘Babe, you may be many things, a shrink isn’t one of them.’ I stalked towards her, covering the short distance between us. ‘I don’t need to be fixed.’
‘I—I didn’t mean it like that.’ She took a small step back as I invaded her personal space. ‘I want this place to run smoothly while Remy’s away and if there’s a problem I want it sorted now before it affects business.’
I admired her dedication to my brother. Not many employees would give a rat’s ass about their boss’s business. But no way in hell would I stand here and be analysed by her ladyship.
‘So that’s what’s all-important to you, is it? Business?’
A tiny dent appeared between her brows, as if she didn’t understand the question, before she nodded. ‘Of course. Remy gave me a chance when my life was down the toilet. I owe him. And I won’t have you breezing in here on the pretext of helping and screwing it up.’
My respect ratcheted up further. I didn’t like many people in this world let alone respect them, so I decided to wind her up a little to detract from the flood of uncharacteristic emotions swamping me the last few minutes.
‘If you’re all business, when do you have time for pleasure?’
Her lips parted in a surprised little O and I took it a step further.
‘You do know what pleasure is?’
I leaned in, close enough to smell the sweetness of vanilla in her hair, close enough to see her porcelain skin was one hundred percent natural and unadorned by make-up, close enough to kiss her if I was so inclined.
‘Back off,’ she said, her fighting words at odds with the soft, breathy way she uttered them.
‘Make me.’ I squared my shoulders, wondering when I’d last enjoyed sparring with a woman this much.
‘You’re such a...child,’ she muttered, and I laughed at how she must’ve watered down that insult.
‘And you’re all woman.’ I leaned against a filing cabinet, knowing she’d have to push past me to get out. ‘But a prickly one. Don’t you ever lighten up?’
Anger sparked in her eyes, flecks of vibrant emerald and sizzling sapphire among the blue. ‘I haven’t got time to lighten up. I work ten-hour days here, five days a week, while attending classes one day a week to complete my apprenticeship. On Sunday, my one day off, I do extensive research to update my blog so that people will know who the hell I am if I eventually save up enough to open my own place one day.’
Her chest heaved with indignation as she tried to shove past me. ‘So why don’t you lighten the hell up and give me a freaking break?’
I should’ve felt bad for pushing her to this point. I didn’t. Because if her icy façade had turned me on, it had nothing on this outraged, furious woman.
She was spectacular.
So I calmed her down the only way I knew how.
I hauled her against me and kissed her.