Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,105

I turn the truck around and head back out to the main road, sitting at the turn-in as I try to decide my next move. I can’t just go back home now. I’m a woman on a mission and I won’t be able to rest until I’ve talked to Cage.

When my truck’s tires hit the gravel of the parking lot at the Pink Pony, I do another sweep, not seeing hide nor hair of Cage or the truck. But since I’m here, I go ahead and park.

“Hey, Tempest,” Floyd greets as I slide up to the bar. “What can I get for you?”

I look around and realize I’ve never been here this early. It’s kind of weird to see the dancers on stage with only a few people at the tables. “Running the skeleton crew, huh?” I ask, gesturing over my shoulder.

Floyd smiles and nods, using a bar towel to dry a glass. “Regulars.”

“Have you seen Cage today… by any chance?”

His expression shifts. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “He hasn’t worked all week. Boss said he’s off the schedule.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

“Did he say why?”

Floyd looks thoughtful for a second before answering. “Nope… not that I recall. He’s had Roger filling in for him.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have his phone number, would you?”

If I could only remember, Cage actually gave it to me, but it was in the middle of my meltdown and I could barely remember my name at the time, let alone ten digits.

Floyd glances around the bar, and then back at me. “I’m not supposed to give out personal information, but I know the two of you are friends...so—”

“I won’t say anything,” I tell him, making a show of zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

After a few seconds, he tosses the towel over his shoulder and walks to the back. When he comes back out, he has a folded piece of paper and he hands it to me.

“Thanks, Floyd. I owe you one.”

Once I’m back out at my truck, I climb in and grab my phone, unfolding the paper and dialing Cage’s number before I can chicken out.

Chapter 30

Cage

“Now, that’s what I like to see,” my brother, Viggo, calls out as he walks into the gym. I thought I’d be able to get some quiet time here, just me and the bags, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

I should’ve known better. Alone time in a big family is like a mythical creature.

“Don’t get so excited. I’m just getting in a short workout before I meet with my realtor.”

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving the city for a small town... in Tennessee, no less. I never pegged you for the type.” He stands on the other side of the bag and holds it for me while I continue my punches, working out the pent-up aggression that’s lingered for the last week.

“What type are you referring to, exactly?” I cut him a look, daring him to say something offensive.

“You know what I mean. Small town-type—seeing the same people and the same things every day, a slower pace, nothing exciting to do…”

My mind immediately flashes to Tempest, because I’d love nothing more than to see her every day and she’s far from nothing exciting, but I shut that shit down. No sense in pining over someone who doesn’t want me. But that’s the crazy thing… I know she does. She’s just fighting it.

“You’ve never been there, so you really shouldn’t be judging Green Valley. I like the pace and the people and I don’t have to be constantly entertained like you do. Where you are never satisfied, I’m actually quite content with my life.”

“Aww, my little bro is growing up.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, you should try it, dickweed.” I move as though I’m going to punch the bag, but instead, I hit Viggo in the shoulder, catching him off guard.

Laughing, he rubs at where my glove made contact. “Asshole.”

Ready to take a break and change the subject, I hold my gloves up to my brother and nod my head, silently asking him to untie them for me. “Did you know Gunnar is thinking about coming to stay with me and train in a few months?”

My youngest brother and I have been talking a lot this week about his future in the ring. He’s excited to take his training to the next level, but I know he’s been avoiding telling Viggo. Being the oldest of us Erickson boys, Viggo feels like