a slight burn in the muscles of my arms and legs. Release the pent up anger, pour it all into the movements.
After a few more minutes, the urges have passed. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and appreciate the burn in my lungs that matches my muscles.
I’m in control.
I’m calm.
I own the feelings… the feelings do not own me.
When I walk back into the back door of the bakery, I feel a change… it’s subtle, but it’s there. I’m the same Tempest Cassidy I’ve always been, but I’m learning how to handle the emotions that have plagued me and I’m a becoming a better version of myself. Slowly, but surely.
Something else I just realized: I don’t care about Asher the way I used to… not even a month ago, or a week ago… not even a few hours ago. I no longer want him.
All I want is to move on with my life.
Chapter 12
Cage
I’ve spent the last two days beating myself up over the almost kiss.
Yesterday, after my morning run, which I doubled in length because I needed the extra time to clear my head, I almost stopped by the bakery, but it was packed. There was a line of people out the door. Peering inside, I saw her, and I immediately felt the spike in my pulse, which was crazy after the kind of run I’d been on.
How can a petite redhead have this kind of effect on me?
I knew then that I needed to walk away and put some space between us, let her come to me. If that ever happens. The way she pushed me away and ran out of the building like it was on fire, makes me think I won’t be seeing Tempest Cassidy for a while. At least not up close and personal.
Which is where I want her.
And all the more reason I should lay low.
Candy and Fuchsia are on stage doing their thing when I catch a whiff of sweetness—vanilla and sugar mixed with homemade goodness. It’s not your typical store-bought perfume. Those are too sweet and honestly make my stomach turn. This is the scent of a woman who spends her days in a bakery, surrounded by baked goods and decadence.
It’s the scent of Tempest Cassidy, the very same woman I was just thinking I needed to keep my distance from, walking into my bar. Well, not mine… but I have to be here, she doesn’t. However, I can’t say I mind that she is, as long as she doesn’t have a repeat of her last visit.
Now that I know her a little better and know my feelings for her run deeper than an instant attraction, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. Especially, if she decided to make her own stage on the bar again. The way those men were looking at her that night still makes me want to wipe the floor with them.
Maybe I’m the one who needs some anger management.
Her eyes are everywhere but on me as she walks closer.
My first thought is that maybe something happened—Asher showed up at the bakery or she saw Mindy at the bank. Maybe he’s being an asshole about the house? Her comment about them selling it has stuck with me. I want to ask her what she plans on doing after the house sells. Not only has she had her entire life turned upside down, but she’s also being displaced. I know what the life being turned upside down part is like, but unlike Tempest, I chose to leave my old life behind. And unlike her, I still own it and can go back there anytime I want.
She’s lost her husband, future plans, hopes, dreams… and now her house?
It seems like too much—too much for one person to deal with—and worry for her settles in my gut.
Be a friend, Cage.
Make this right.
Smooth the waters.
Give her an outlet.
When she finally makes eye contact with me, it’s like looking in a mirror—a tinge of guilt, a hint of reluctance, and a glimmer of hope that maybe all is not lost. I’m not sure why she’d feel guilty. She’s not the one who almost kissed her friend.
“Tempest,” I say in greeting as she saddles up to the bar.
“Cage,” she returns, sliding her eyes over to me and then turning them to Floyd. “Hello, Floyd.” Her smile is genuine and gorgeous. I want that smile. I want all of them.
Fuck.
“What can I get you, Em?” he asks. And there’s that nickname again.