Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,18

Pulling the phone out, I swipe my thumb across the screen and see that it needs a passcode. When I show it to Floyd, his head drops in defeat.

“Man,” he says on an exhale. “She really didn’t want me to call her dad, but I don’t know what else to do if we can’t get ahold of Cole.”

“Who’s Cole?” I ask, feeling nosy, but I can’t help it. “Is he the ex?”

Floyd huffs a laugh. “No … no way, man. Cole Cassidy is her cousin, deputy … good guy.”

I nod, running a hand over my short hair. “So, what do we do?”

“I guess we can keep trying Cole,” he says, looking down at his watch. “Bar’s still open for another three hours.”

“She didn’t even make it to midnight.” I smirk, looking down at her sleeping form. My fingers itch to brush the hair off of her face, but I can’t do that. That’s too intimate … too familiar. I didn’t even get to introduce myself. Who am I to brush hair out of her face?

What the fuck is wrong with you, Cage?

“Pretty girl, huh?” Floyd asks, his eyes on her too. “Sweet girl, too … definitely doesn’t deserve what she’s been through lately.”

And what’s that? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back.

“Walked in on her ex screwing someone else,” Floyd adds under his breath, eyes cutting down the bar to see who might be eavesdropping.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Floyd shakes his head. “Nope.” Looking around again, he asks, “wanna know the worst part?”

Did I? Did I want to know the worst part? I know it’s common in small towns for people to gossip, but I don’t feel right gaining information about Tempest, even though I want it, without her knowing. But Floyd takes my silence as a yes.

“She was going home to…” He cocks his head and eyebrows suggestively. “You know.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“Yeah, apparently, they were trying to get pregnant and she was going home early for some … you know.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

We both look down at Tempest, who is still snoozing on the bar.

“She kinda lost it,” he whispers, but it’s not in disapproval, more in sympathy … understanding. “But can you blame her?”

No, I can’t. I remember what it was like when I thought my life was going one way and then suddenly, it wasn’t. I’ve had that happen to me on more than one occasion. It’s jolting, disarming. Can’t say I’ve always handled it in the best way myself.

“What are we going to do?” I ask, my eyes still glued on the softness of her cheek and the way her lashes rest on the pale skin.

“I’m stuck here until close, but you could drive her home.”

My eyes snap up. “Me?”

“Yeah, she just lives a few miles away. I can give you her address.” He motions to her purse. “You’ve got a key. She’ll probably wake up by the time you get there … just make sure she gets into the house okay.”

I guess I could do that. Looking around the bar, everyone seems to be doing fine.

“I’ll keep an eye on the place,” Floyd continues. “You won’t be gone long.”

Right. Sure, I can just take her home. I mean, she can’t sleep on the bar all night. I wouldn’t want her to. And she obviously doesn’t have a husband or boyfriend to call. Her cousin isn’t answering. She was adamant that she didn’t want to call her father, so that leaves … me.

“Okay,” I say, taking a step toward her and pausing to think it through. “Should I just?” I ask, hands in limbo.

“Carry her?” Floyd offers, looking at me like maybe I’m not as smart as he thought I was.

“Right.”

When I slip my arm around her back and cradle her to my chest, scooping up her legs, she stirs and so does my dick. Earlier, when I dismounted her from the bar, I hadn’t really been thinking about how she felt against my chest, but now, it’s all I can think about—her small, soft body against my hard torso. Her warmth. Her scent—vanilla and something else—lavender, maybe? It’s soft and subtle and sweet.

Grabbing her purse, I wave to Floyd. “I’ll be back.”

He smirks and nods his head. “Address is on the slip of paper in her purse.”

I hadn’t even noticed him writing it down, too preoccupied with the half-asleep, completely drunk girl in my arms. Walking toward the door, we garner some looks, but I just stare them down