bakery. She and Abby would get on well.”
“All right. Whatever you think is best. I can fly us there as well for a weekend. Just say the word.”
She traced her fingers on my shirt. “Maybe.” She snuggled closer. “Right now, I kinda don’t want to share. I like having you to myself.”
I tucked her tighter into my side. I felt much the same way.
“I’m good with that.”
That weekend, Sunny sidled up next to me at the counter. “You know,” she murmured with a teasing grin, “if this whole millionaire thing doesn’t work out for you, you could become a barista.”
I chuckled as I slid another cappuccino toward her. I had been replaced as sample passer because I was eating as many as I was giving away, and that was frowned on. No one had outlined the rules, so I didn’t feel it was fair, but my protests fell on deaf ears. Now, some kid had the best job in the whole place, and I was moved. I found out quickly I sucked in the kitchen, dropped too many things to be of any help serving people, and my cash register skills were lacking, but I caught onto the whole coffee thing well. Luckily, Sunny’s shop only offered coffee, simple lattes, and cappuccinos. Or a shot of espresso. Not fancy drinks. Otherwise I would be lost.
I was shocked at how much I was enjoying the weekend. Sunny’s bakery had been busy since Friday afternoon as the tourists began to trickle in, drawn by the nice weather and the chance to escape the big city. By Saturday afternoon, the place was packed, and on Sunday morning, there was a line waiting outside when Sunny unlocked the door.
She was amazing to watch, always calm—warm and pleasant to her customers, helpful and efficient with her staff, never sitting or not busy—she worked as hard as anyone, if not harder.
I had forgotten how much I liked simply being around her. Listening to her voice and laughter, being able to touch her hand or steal the occasional kiss. Observe her with other people and the way they reacted to her genuine warmth. This was her element, and I loved seeing her in it.
“I know, Sunny-girl,” I deadpanned. “I’m an awesome coffee guy. I was thinking of applying for a part-time gig here.” I winked, leaning over the counter. “I’m dating this woman, and I want to be able to wine and dine her in the finest establishments. Impress her, you know? I bet with my tips alone, I can win her over.”
She met me halfway, her dark eyes dancing in the bright sunlight that filled the bakery. “Save your pennies, big spender. You already have.”
Unable to resist, I wrapped my hand around her neck and pulled her in for a fast, hard, and surprisingly satisfying kiss. Her cheeks were flushed as she pulled back amidst the claps and whoops my action caused.
“Enough of your lip.” She smirked, the sexy pull of her full mouth making me smile. “Wash your hands and get back to work.”
I grinned, doing as she instructed, then returning to the small line that was waiting patiently. I worked steadily for a few moments, pausing to wipe my hands between orders.
“What can I get you?” I asked, looking up and freezing at the cold gaze that met mine.
“Quite the show,” Mrs. Tremont uttered. “Not exactly family friendly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Affection between loving partners is hardly something to be ashamed of, Martha.” I stressed her name, knowing it would piss her off.
“Not the place for it.” She sniffed.
I couldn’t resist the dig. “You prefer dark hotel rooms, I suppose?”
Her eyes narrowed, her glare becoming frostier. I swore I felt the temperature around us drop. Her voice became icier. “Not hygienic either.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I won’t lick your cup.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want anything.”
I bit back my retort. This was Sunny’s business, and I was out of line. Instead, I offered her a smile, using my most conciliatory tone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I was simply caught up in the moment. Allow me to make you a coffee—on the house.” I wasn’t surprised when she accepted it. Snobs like her could never resist something free.
“A latte. With sweetener. Two.”
“Coming right up.”
A moment later, I handed her the cup with another fake smile. “Enjoy.”
She swept out of the bakery without another word. I bowed my head, pretending to be absorbed in wiping off the nozzle, when, in fact, I