He doesn’t say anything at first. Just smirks at me.
“Well?” I say.
“What else do people do at bakeries?”
He doesn’t look like the type of guy to frequent a rundown bakery. He doesn’t look like the type who would ingest anything into his perfect body that isn’t organic or made from the finest ingredients.
“Well, the bathroom is occupied,” I say.
“I can see that.”
His eyes flicker with humor and his gaze lingers on my breasts a beat too long before he looks back at my face.
“So shut the damn door,” I tell him.
He takes a step into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. The lock clicks in place.
“I didn’t mean with you in here. Get out.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he takes a step closer.
“Rose Monroe. It’s been awhile,” he says, his eyes traveling up and down my body, stopping at my chest. Everything is on display. My cheeks heat under his gaze.
I remember when I was under the spell of that very gaze. Whenever he looked at me I would swoon.
The last time we saw each other we were making out. What we had didn’t last long. We were over before we even had the chance to get started. It was the night of prom. My sister was out with his brother, Sam. It was the same night she found out Sam had cheated on her. I was at home with Thomas and had gotten a text from her, and when I met her out on the football field she had been sobbing. She started the night looking like a princess and by the end she had black steaks of makeup smeared down her face. It was awful. That night I learned that Logan boys cheat and we made a pact never to trust one. I ignored Thomas after that and I haven’t seen him since. Not until this very moment.
“Not long enough,” I say.
He screws up his face, a look that’s a little confused and a little defiant. “If I remember right, you’re the one who ditched me. So what’s with the attitude?”
“I’m late meeting my sister,” I say and try to push past him, but he puts his large body in front of me, blocking the way.
God he smells good. My body wakes up at the scent of him and reacts in a way that’s a total betrayal to mine and Fiona’s pact. I try to pretend like he has no effect on me, but my chest is heaving—and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Thomas flashes me an infuriatingly confident smile.
“Missed a spot,” he says, and rubs his thumb across one of my breasts as if trying to scrub something off my shirt.
I should step away from him. I should slap him. But instead I gasp and just stand there and let him do it. The scrubbing becomes a caress and then he stops and we are both looking into each other’s eyes.
When I hear pots and pans banging together in the back of the building, the spell is broken and I step away from him.
“I think I got it,” he says in that cocky way of his.
I roll my eyes and push past him, as I finish buttoning up my wet shirt. When I get to the front of the store I look out the window to see if my sister has shown up. She hasn’t. But parked right out front is a shiny blue sports car with a personalized license plate that says T Logan.
My jaw drops. “You’re the douche-canoe who ran me off the road?” It’s the same car that cut me off this morning, spilling coffee all over myself, leading to this rather exposed situation right now.
He chuckles. “I’ve been called a lot of things by women, but I have to say that’s a first. And you’re the person who was driving so slowly in front of the high school that a snail could pass you. What were you doing?” he asks, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Reminiscing on old times?”
I flush, the memory of his lips and hands all over me the night of prom coming to my mind. Lips and hands and pure pleasure. Except for what came after that. “Remembering the bad ones actually.”
The most potent memory from those times is one that still haunts me. Picking up Fiona while she was crying so hard she could barely breathe, wrecked after being cheated on by her then boyfriend. The Logans are an institution here in Hawthorne—rich, handsome, and they own half the town. None of that mattered to Fiona, and she and Sam were so head-over-heels in love it was a little gross. At least she thought they were, until she caught Sam and Lacy together behind the school gym.
Fiona still doesn’t know this, but that night I was with Thomas. We’d been flirting for a while, and that night we took the next step. I’d snuck out to see him and we were together when I got her call. I’d driven to get her even though I didn’t have a license, which landed me a grounding that lasted for pretty much the rest of the year. But it was worth it. If I hadn’t left to pick up Fiona, I might’ve gone too far with Thomas and fallen in love the way she had. I might’ve suffered the same fate as my sister, broken and miserable.
Him standing here is a reminder of what we almost had, what we almost did. It’s the icing on the top of this shitty day. “And thanks to you, this shirt is probably ruined.”
For the countless time his eyes land on my breasts, and I blush because it’s obvious that he’s not looking at the coffee stain. “Honestly, I think it’s an improvement.”
The way he’s looking at me makes me want to pull him inside the bathroom and fuck him, just to see what I missed all those years ago. But I’m not going to do that. That’s insane. Instead, I sit at the café table that’s cluttered with the papers my father had laid out to show me. I press my legs together, trying to tamp down the feeling of arousal. It’s ridiculous how much he’s affecting me.
Thomas comes over to the table and leans on it like he’s in a fashion ad for that suit he’s wearing. “So what brings you to town? Last I heard you were living large in New York City.”
“I don’t know anyone who would talk to you about me.”
His mouth curves into a devastating half-smile. “I keep track of interesting people.”
He kept track of me? What does that mean? Tilting my head to look at him, I try to remember the Thomas Logan I actually knew. I thought Thomas was hot in high school, but Jesus, he’s spectacular now. He could have any woman eating out of his hand with just one look of those stunning eyes. Even with our less than stellar history, he has me in heat. I don’t see a ring, so he’s not married. That, or he takes it off for special occasions—he is a Logan after all.
I realize that I’m distracted just looking at him. “I’m just visiting my father.”
“You never did tell me why you’re at the bakery—and don’t give me any bullshit about you being here for the pastry,” I say.
He smiles, leaning just a little bit closer. Fucking sexy, and that scent ... it’s a deep, spicy scent, very masculine, but not overpowering. I imagine it’s what lust would smell like if it had an odor.
I bite the inside of my cheek, hoping that the little bit of pain will help me focus. It doesn’t. “You’ve had your dad’s cupcakes. Best in town. It’s my vice,” he says.
He’s not wrong. The cupcakes are the best around, but
I know where the Logans live and it’s nowhere near here. They live on the rich side of town. “You drive all the way across town to get a cupcake?”
“Am I not allowed?”
“Of course you are, I just assumed you’d go to some place that’s overpriced and full of hipsters.”
Thomas laughs softly. “You haven’t seen me in ten years. How do you know what kind of bakeries I like?”
His laughter is rich and melodic and sends a shiver through me. Even the sound of his voice is sexy. It’s not fair to the rest of the men in the world to be this sexy and be disgustingly wealthy on top of it. When Thomas Logan steps into a room no other men stand a chance.
“I remember you and your brothers. People don’t change that much,” I say.
His head tilts to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got me pegged.”
“I think I do.”
I didn’t notice how close we’d leaned into each other until this moment, and I lose my breath because we’re close enough for me to see the
star shape of his irises and hint of stubble peeking through his perfect skin. He’s so beautiful. This can’t happen.
I pull back just as my father comes into the room. He’s holding another bundle of papers and he freezes when he sees Thomas. A moment later his trademark smile is back in full force.
“Thomas,” he says. “Good to see you!” My dad comes around and puts down the papers so he can shake Thomas’s hand.
“You too, Mr. Monroe,” he flashes that dazzling smile, and I feel conflicted by the burst of attraction the flies through my body. “I was just catching up with Rose. It’s an…interesting surprise,” Thomas says.
The way he says interesting sends a thrill up my spine, and I shove it back down. This isn’t why I’m here. I’d almost forgotten why I’d come home in the first place. The papers my father is holding are loan papers, and all the financial statements for the bakery. He said he’s in trouble, and I’ve come to help him sort it out. Looking at the volume of papers on the table, my head is starting to hurt and we haven’t even started.
Dad smiles and shrugs and says to Thomas, “You’re early.”
I look between them, suspicious. “What does that mean?”
Thomas looks at me again. He’s still smiling, but it’s sharper, less charming. “As much as I like your father’s cupcakes, I’m here to talk business.”
“Business?”
He glances at the stack of papers my father left on the table. “I’m guessing he was about to show you.”
Things click into place all at once, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to throw up my coffee—what little I consumed before it landed on my shirt.
My father is in debt. More debt than he’s willing to admit to. Debt that he made me come all the way up from New York to talk about. He took out a loan, and it’s due, and now Thomas Logan is here to talk about ‘business.’
I take a deep breath and look at my father. “You borrowed money from the Logans?”
This day honestly couldn’t get any worse.
Chapter 2
I’m not sure there are words to accurately describe the horror that I’m feeling right now. I can’t believe my dad is debt to my sworn enemy.
My dad looks at Thomas. “Rosie came up to help me sort things out. She’s better at this stuff than I’ll ever be.” He gives a sheepish smile, and I can’t believe that this is happening.
“Well then,” Thomas says, “if you came up here to sort things out, maybe we should skip this meeting and talk about business over drinks. Just the two of us.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I put enough venom into my voice that he raises his eyebrows and smiles an annoying little smile, like he knows something that I don’t. And despite my fury, my traitorous body wants to lean toward that smile. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” I say to Thomas, “I need to speak to my father privately.”
Marching away, I push through the door into my father’s crowded little office. I don’t check to see if he’s following—I know he will. I wait. He comes through the door and the room is so small that we’re practically nose-to-nose.
“Dad, what the hell were you thinking? The Logan brothers are bad enough, but their father isn’t a good guy. As far as I know, he’s not the kind of guy that would trade a loan for violence, but he has no problem destroying people’s livelihoods. They don’t call them loan sharks for nothing.
My dad doesn’t say anything, just stands there looking lost and exhausted. I know he’s under a lot of stress and having me standing here wagging a finger at him isn’t helping, but I’m just so angry that I can’t help myself.
“So,” I say, “this is why I’m here, to help you get out of debt to our town’s biggest loan shark.”
“Rosie, don’t be like that. I really do want to see you too. It’s been a long time since I’ve had my girls at home.”
“Dad…” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “How bad is this? Really?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I needed the money to start the business, and after everything…” He trails off, and I know he’s talking about his other business ideas that crashed and burned. “The banks wouldn’t lend anything to me. I took the lowest loan I thought I could get away with. I figured there was no way I’d have trouble paying it off. But business really hasn’t been as good as I was hoping. And now if I don’t make it happen in two weeks, they’ll take the bakery. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just didn’t want to disappoint you again. Thomas was here to see if we could make a deal. I asked him to talk to his father about extending the loan. He’s the nicest of them, and I—” He swallows. “It’s bad…You’ve been so good to me, Rosie, and I was just hoping…”
“Two weeks? You’re going to lose the bakery two weeks?” My stomach plummets to the floor, and I take a deep breath, scrubbing my hands across my face. I keep myself outwardly calm, but inside I’m freaking out. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
He looks smaller, like he’s lost his light, and I hate that. It’s been years since we lost Mom but he never really recovered from it. He even named the bakery after her, Lola’s, although Mom wasn’t much of a Betty Crocker. God, I miss her. I’m tired of fixing things, but I hope I’m actually able to fix this.
I point toward the front of the bakery where Thomas Logan waits, probably laughing at me. “And you think he wants to help you?”
My dad shrugs. “I don’t know if he wants to, but he was at least willing to listen.”
“Okay.” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I’m here to help him. I have to remember that. And I also have to remember that I love him even though I want to throttle him right now. If Thomas is actually willing to listen, then I probably don’t want to piss him off too much—any more than I already have, anyway.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say, even though I know the look on his face is going to be fucking insufferable.
Fumbling through papers on his desk, Dad finds a business card and hands it to me. “There’s his number.”
I huff a laugh. “He’s right out there. I’ll try that route first.”
“Thank you.” He deflates. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, holding back the sigh that’s threatening to come out. “We’ll get it figured out.”
I push past my father and back into the main bakery. Thomas is standing there looking far too self-satisfied. His hands are in his pockets, and I swear it’s not fair how attractive he is. If he weren’t…him, I’d have agreed to drinks in half a second.
“Fine,” I say. “I will go to drinks with you.” A smug grin appears on his face, and I have the urge to slap it off. “I’m only going because my father is in trouble and you—out of all the people in the universe—seem to be the person who can help him.”
“Understood.” He glances at my hand. “I see you have my card already, so you get settled in and text me when you’re ready get those drinks.”
“Sure.” I plaster on a fake smile. “Looking forward to it.”
He gives me another long look up and down, and I feel that heat rising under my skin again. Dammit. This is so unfair. “I’ll see you later, Rose.”
And then he’s out the door and I can’t look away from the way his suit fits him perfectly, how it hugs every muscle and stretches across those wide shoulders. His walk is equally sexy. It screams confidence.
I watch as he drives away. With the way I’m being torn between loathing and lust, God only knows what tonight has in store.
* * *
Rose was sure she could trust herself to resist this dirty brother.
Can she trust herself not to end up in his bed?
Keep reading FLIRT now!