Dante (Hell's Ankhor #6) - Aiden Bates Page 0,32

Maverick said. “Shows you’re invested in a good relationship outside of the chaperone duties. I’d be impressed, if I were in his shoes.”

“Me too. Not a bad idea,” Tex agreed.

Jonah shifted Grace in his arms and came around behind my chair. “I can cover the desk. Not a damn thing going on in here today, anyway.”

“Wait, now?” I asked, my eyes widening. “I should go now?”

“Why not?” Maverick said. “I know your schedule is pretty full with school and club duties. We can cover the rest of the afternoon, if you want.”

Maverick, Tex, and Jonah all looked at me expectantly. And… I didn’t really have a good reason not to go. Other than my own burning embarrassment at what had happened. But it’d be better to suffer through that in private, have a chance to deal with the aftermath of Dante’s rejection at Stella’s, rather than at the next scheduled training.

And, admittedly, I kind of…I kind of wanted to see him again. At the bakery. When he was in his element, dusted in flour and smiling.

God, I was so fucked. But I nodded in agreement, and packed up my things while steadfastly ignoring the knowing grins and elbow nudges of my brothers-in-arms.

And the ride to Junee really worked wonders for my racing, circling mind. Riding always did—made me feel a little freer, and a little more in control at the same time. By the time I parked my bike outside Stella’s, I felt a little more settled, and like I could actually do this. I was still nervous, but I knew talking to Dante was my only option. Because despite what had happened, we still had to work together, and from what I’d gathered, he was like me—willing to put personal issues aside for the betterment of our clubs. Or at least I hoped so.

I hesitated outside the door. The bakery was scheduled to close in just a few minutes. I only hoped Dante would have a minute or two to spare. Or maybe it’d be better if I came back later—when I’d planned it, give him a heads-up. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to just show up like this.

I was staring at the door, debating, when suddenly it swung open so fast it almost smacked me in the face. I took a stumbling step back.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” Mal said. “I don’t always look where I’m going.”

Mal was shorter than Dante, but not by much, with the same square jaw—but rich brown eyes where Dante’s were icy blue. He offered his hand to shake, and I accepted it tentatively.

He gaze tracked over my face, and then to the patch on my leather jacket. A slow smile spread on his face. “Right, the Kid. Heard a lot about you.”

And God, that made me nervous, but Mal’s easy smile made me feel a little better. I plastered on what I hoped was a bashful smile. “Don’t believe a word of it, sir.”

Mal barked a surprised laugh and clapped me on the shoulder so firmly it made me stumble a little again. “Dante’s just finishing up cleaning in there, he’ll be happy to see you.”

Before I could ask what Mal meant by that—or maybe protest that that couldn’t possibly be the case—he was walking away with a jaunty wave. Not able to back out now, I steeled myself and stepped into the bakery. As the door swung closed behind me, a bell tied to the handle announced my arrival with a jingle.

“Oh, sorry,” Dante called from the kitchen. He was the only person inside—the front counter was clear of goods, and all the display lights shut off. “We’re closed for the day but we’ll be back open tomorrow morning.”

“Um,” I said from the front room. “Hey, I—”

“Oh!” Dante shuffled out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. “I didn’t realize it was you. Flip the lock and come on back?”

I pressed my lips together a little nervously—but this is what I’d come here to do, wasn’t it? And hesitating would only make it worse. So l locked the door to the bakery and stepped behind the counter into the big open kitchen.

It was spotlessly clean, the big wooden bench table in the center carefully scraped, the stainless steel prep tables scrubbed to sparkling. The only flour in the place appeared to be on Dante, dusting his forearms, and a stray streak on his neck as well. He pulled his apron over his head and hung it on a hook

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024