at once, everything exploded. Lights danced in front of my eyes, my body trembled and shivered from the energy between us, and finally I collapsed on top of him in a pile of loose muscles and melted joints.
His hands stroked my back and then my hair. An overpowering sensation of contentedness washed over me, around me, through me. I lifted my head, so I could see this man who’d so completely taken my breath away.
He smiled at me, and his arms tightened around my body. I put my head back on his chest and tried to ignore the worry that was beginning to overtake my happiness.
Sex with Nate? It wasn’t what I’d expected. It wasn’t what I’d thought it would be. It was more—so very much more than I ever believed possible. And with circumstances such as they were, what the hell was I supposed to do about that?
Chapter Twenty
“Lizzie? Someone’s here to see you,” Jon said, entering the kitchen at A Taste of Magic.
I placed the nested set of mixing bowls in the cupboard and swung the door closed. Thinking it was the elderly couple I’d met at the furniture store, I said, “Tell them I’ll be out in a minute.”I rolled my shoulders back to stretch out the kinks, happy the long day was almost over. Before meeting with them, I wanted to duck into the restroom to be sure I didn’t have powder on my nose. Sometimes, after a full day of baking, I resembled a ghost with the layers of flour that coated me.
“No, Lizzie. Not them. He.” The abrupt, staccato beat of Jon’s voice should have clued me in. Sadly, it didn’t.
“He? Exactly who is here?” Maybe Nate had stopped by? My pulse sped up at the thought.
“Marc. ‘Dickhead’ is in the house. Want me to shoo him away?”
Okay, not such a nice surprise. What could he want? You see, it didn’t matter that I’d made my peace with my failed marriage. I still didn’t want to see him.
But then, I realized it was probably about the bakery. Most likely, Marc had decided it was time to make some changes at A Taste of Magic. I’d planned on mailing his check on my way home that night, but now I could give it to him in person. “No. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Have him wait in the office.”
Jon put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure? You don’t have to talk to him. I can easily give him his check and send him on his way.”
“I’d rather give it to him. So yeah, send him back.”
After a quick onceover of my appearance, and with a fresh cup of coffee in hand (you know, for strength), I let myself into my office.
“Betty, thanks for seeing me,” Marc said. He was standing in the corner, hunched against the wall, his eyes following me. Dressed in a dark grey suit, he was as polished as ever. The spitting image of success.
“Didn’t leave me much choice, did you?” Sitting down at my desk, my mind ran through all the different possibilities. He had to be there about business, because even when we were married, Marc rarely visited A Taste of Magic. While he never said it out loud, I was fairly sure “his wife, the baker,” had been another sore spot.
Yeah. Anyway, water under the bridge. “What did you want to see me for?”
“You’re not taking my calls, and you sure as hell aren’t returning them. You didn’t leave me much choice.”
The nerve in my neck began to throb. “Last I checked, we were still divorced.”
“Last I checked, we were still partners in this place,” he said, his gaze taking in the office with one full sweep.
I opened a file on my desk and retrieved the envelope I’d addressed earlier. “Here you go.”
“What’s this?” He walked toward me.
“A check. Business is doing well enough, so we’ve decided to pay the loan amount back in full. As of now, you no longer have any interest in A Taste of Magic.” Yeah—I have to admit—saying that felt pretty damn good.
He ripped the envelope open and pulled out the check. After glancing at the dollar amount, he folded it and slipped it into his pocket. “Thank you. But it’s not why I’m here.”
That startled me. “Why are you here, then?”
He put his hands on my shoulders and knelt down so we were nose to nose. “I just want to talk to you. I miss