Love Him Free (On the Market #1) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,45

to knock before he realized his mistake, then he pulled out his phone and opened his texts.

Simon: I’m outside your door right now. I hope you’re home.

A minute passed that felt like an eternity before the door swung wide, and Rocco was there—filling up all the spaces between them. His eyes were a little wary, a little nervous—but also a little hopeful. ‘Are you okay?’

Simon bowed his head, breathed, then nodded. ‘I’m good. I’m more than good. I like you, Rocco.’

Rocco’s expression went soft. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yes. And…I think I want to take you up on your offer.’

Rocco beamed. ‘Okay.’

Before Rocco could reach for him, Simon put up a hand. ‘I do have some conditions. Deal breakers. Can we talk about them?’

Rocco stared—intense and captivating, then he put one hand at Simon’s waist and pulled. Simon’s feet moved without his permission, and the door slammed shut behind him like a benediction. It was over before he could even start to fight—and really, he didn’t mind. Rocco’s body was against him, eyes drinking him in like he hadn’t seen Simon in years.

It was heady.

It was addicting.

Rocco leaned in, brushing a breath of a kiss to Simon’s jaw, then he stepped back, just out of reach. His long, thick fingers rose, and he signed with absolute purpose, ‘I’m ready to negotiate.’

‘…and we can do this any way you want, but I’m glad you trust me. I’m glad you want to do this with me. It feels different with you. Better. Like…’

“Simon!”

Simon snapped back to reality, back to the bakery, to the kitchen with a ball of dough in his hands that was supposed to be bread but was hard as a rock. He glanced behind him at Kyle who looked more confused than annoyed that Simon had been off in his own little world.

“Sorry, Kyle. You okay?” He swiped his hands on his apron, then grabbed the ball of dough and tossed it into the trash before turning to face his employee.

“There’s someone here to see you,” Kyle said, thumbing over his shoulder.

For a moment, Simon’s heart leapt, though he knew it couldn’t be Rocco. Or well, it shouldn’t be. Simon hadn’t stayed as long as he’d wanted in Rocco’s room, but they’d parted with a plan. Rocco was going to spend the day in search of a place he could rent that wouldn’t have the telltale signs of Simon’s apartment, or the bakery, or the only real hotel in the entire city on the video. If Simon was going to do this—if he was going to be brave enough to take a step outside of his tiny bubble—he wanted at least a little anonymity. Even if it didn’t last.

“Who is it?”

“Birdie—that fire department guy,” Kyle said with a shrug. He glanced at the baking table and the rest of the dough Simon had separated. “You want me to take over here?”

Simon knew by the way Kyle’s face fell, he hadn’t hidden his grimace well enough. But his mind immediately went back to the last time he had let Kyle help—and the wasted batches of cookies that had been little more than charred lumps of coal.

“Why don’t you take a lunch?” Simon moved to the sink to wash up, then glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief to see it was almost noon. “I’ll handle the front for a bit.”

Kyle looked like he wanted to argue, but at the resolute set of Simon’s jaw he shrugged and untied his apron. “It’s not busy anyway.”

And when was it ever? Simon would wager Birdie wasn’t coming in to buy anything. Apart from bread for the Cherry Creek Lodge and the bagels for the fire house, they only occasionally had trickle-in business. Tourist season with the Market opening meant a few more customers than normal, but not enough.

And he’d seen a drop now that Levi’s food truck was parking in various spots around town. Not that Simon could blame the people for wanting Levi’s bakes. They were better, and more diverse. They were trendy—like brie and bacon croissants. They were everything Simon wasn’t—and didn’t want to be.

Drying his hands, Simon finally walked out to find the blacksmith bent over the glass display. When the door creaked, Birdie straightened and rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Hey.” He looked good in his CCFD shirt and jeans, his hair tousled by the wind, cheeks a little pink.

Simon raised a brow. “Hi? Is there something I can help with? If you want one of those