Love Him Free (On the Market #1) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,14

he looked up at James who stared back—unapologetic and defiant. “That was…”

“Don’t bother. He’ll pay for it later. This is mascarpone and raspberry.”

Simon didn’t hesitate this time. It was likely James would never respect him, and he was trying not to take it personally, but he trusted his brother not to ever cross those lines, no matter how often he threatened it. He sighed, then bit into the pastry and groaned at the explosion of flavor on his tongue.

His own bakes were fine. But that’s all they were—just fine. Levi’s were an entire universe contained in such a small thing. They were warmth and comfort and home in a way only his Bubbe’s food had ever been. He peered one eye over at Levi’s face, and he saw a mixture of smug satisfaction, and beneath that, pride.

“It’s amazing,” Simon told him. He was trying his best to stop withholding his praise, and it was a difficult habit to break. “Is everyone else enjoying them?”

“I think it helps, having Enzo’s truck here,” Levi admitted. “I thought we’d end up competing, but people are buying from us both. Plus, his shit is so good.”

Simon didn’t know most of the townsfolk well. He knew of Enzo’s five-star restaurant, Mangia E Zitto—he’d taken Levi there for his graduation dinner and scraped his savings account to pay the tab. It had been a better memory of Levi’s younger years, and he had no regrets. But that was it. Enzo had lived in Cherry Creek for just about forever, and Simon had never tried his food apart from that one night.

“Are you hungry?” Levi asked.

Simon felt his lips pull into a gentle smile. “No, I ate while I was finishing up the challah dough. Thank you, though.”

Levi sighed, nodding once. “You look tired, Simon.”

“I know what that’s code for.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Well, you do look like shit. Why don’t you just fire Kyle and I’ll come back to…”

“No.” Simon didn’t mean to sound so angry—so final. But there would be no point. He tempered his voice and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to…I just…it’s fine, Levi. This is amazing, and you look happy. Besides, it’s only for a few weeks, until you get the truck off the ground.” The agreement was tentative, but Simon had sworn when he handed the keys over, that Levi could take as many weeks as he needed before coming back to work prep hours at the bakery.

A faint blush rose on Levi’s cheeks, and he glanced away like he couldn’t take Simon’s attempts to actually show Levi how he felt. “Whatever. I have time now if you need me.”

“I know.” Simon swiped his hands on his jeans, then walked a few steps to the recycling bin and dropped the paper plate inside. “Right now, I’m tired, but I’m doing okay. I promise I’ll let you know if I’m in over my head with work.”

And it wasn’t likely. Levi was official competition for him now, and he knew he’d be feeling it soon. But it was better that way.

After a beat of awkward silence, Levi shrugged, and the same old ghost of frustration and resentment flickered across his face. Before it got too deep, Simon reached for him, grabbing his brother by the elbow. “Come over Saturday for dinner.”

“Can I cook?” Levi asked.

At that, Simon laughed. “Yes, and bring James.”

Levi looked mildly surprised, but also happy, and he glanced back at his boyfriend before pulling away from Simon’s hold. “I’ll be there. I’d better get back to work, though.”

Simon nodded, and just before Levi reached the doors, Simon called out to him. “It looks amazing, Levi. It’s going to do well.”

Levi hesitated, then nodded one last time before disappearing behind the metal door. It shut with a hard clang, and Simon didn’t feel entirely better, but he felt like there were small changes happening. And really, that was the most he could ask for.

Simon’s private ritual ending Shabbat was different when Levi was around. Alone, his blessings were barely above a whisper, lighting the havdalah perfunctory, the ritual taking a back seat to his eagerness for distraction.

Checking his phone, he was unsurprised to find a text from Levi letting him know that he was going to be late, but James was heading over by seven-thirty and would meet him. Simon felt a small wave of anxiety he was determined to ignore, and he sank into his desk chair, firing up his laptop for the first time in twenty-four hours. The

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