Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
It was then I understood what had happened in class.
I couldn’t believe Carianne. I would never hurt a woman, but I wanted to wring her bloody neck.
Because as I’d feared would happen, Callie hated me.
I’d felt it in her fight.
And seen it in her eyes.
I just hadn’t understood it until now.
Suffice it to say, Carianne and I had words about her taking it upon herself to tell Callie we were dating when we weren’t. She then acted affronted, as if this was all my fault, when I’d never once agreed to the pretense. I’d hung up on her.
Now I was skulking around Ardnoch, hoping to bump into Callie so I could explain. I was supposed to be working from home on my client’s Tain project, but I’d decided to grab lunch in town. I knew the bakery wasn’t open on a Tuesday, but Eilidh had mentioned Callie could still be found there practicing new recipes.
To make myself feel less like a stalker, I stopped in at the Gloaming to say hello to my uncle Arran. We chatted a bit about business and the twins, and then I made my excuses to leave. Deciding the best vantage point for the bakery was Flora’s (and aye, I was aware this made me seem more like a stalker and I was not proud of myself), I strode toward it, stopping across the road as cars drove down Castle Street.
As the way cleared, Flora’s door opened and there she was.
Callie stepped out of the café, laughing. Looking so far from the vengeful woman she was last night. Then my heart fucking stopped as some bloke followed her out and took her hand.
Recognition hit.
I’d seen him in photos with Callie. It was the French ex-boyfriend.
What the fuck?
They strolled down the street and I found myself following, my heart thumping wildly. I felt sick. Panicked. Outraged.
When they stopped at the bus stop, I didn’t even care if Callie saw me. She was too busy, though, engrossed in the Frenchman. He turned and rested his hands on her hips, pulling her to him. Possessive fury burned like hellfire in my chest.
It boiled over as he bent his head and pressed a kiss to her lips.
It wasn’t a passionate kiss.
But it might as well have been.
I knew if I stayed around and watched any longer, I’d do something I’d regret. That we’d all regret. In all likelihood, I’d lose any chance of winning Callie back if I did what I wanted at that moment.
Nah. The appearance of Gabriel was merely a setback.
It didn’t mean I’d lost her.
I refused to believe that.
Even as anger at her roiled inside me.
Striding back to my bike, I got on it and waited. The bus to Inverness passed, most likely halted at the bus stop. Sure enough, Callie appeared a minute or so later in the distance, strolling alone toward the bakery.
Gabriel was gone.
Good riddance.
She didn’t look my way. Instead, she disappeared through the front entrance of Callie’s Wee Cakery.
The Harley rumbled to life as I switched on the ignition and then I rode it down the side street and into the car park of the bakery. Hoping she didn’t lock me out, I quickly crossed to the back door and thudded on it.
Twenty-One
CALLIE
The day had thrown me for such a loop that I didn’t even think when I heard the thudding on the bakery’s back door.
I reduced the volume on the music on my phone and crossed the kitchen to see who was here.
The sight of Lewis looming in the entrance made my heart leap into my throat and I moved to close the door.
He barged right in.
“Uh, excuse you!” I snapped.
“Unless you want Morag to hear this conversation, I’d close the door,” he bit out in an uncharacteristic growl of anger.
What the hell did he have to be angry for? “I don’t want to have a conversation with you, Lewis. I am done with you.”
“Because Carianne’s an idiot who asked me out and when I said no because I’m still in love with you she suggested that we pretend to date to make you jealous? To which I did not agree because it’s fucking stupid.”
What? I gaped at him, stunned. Because it was surely so silly he’d made it up. “Eh … can you repeat that?”
“You tried to kill me last night for no reason.” Lewis tugged a hand through his long hair. “And if that French fucker thinks I’m going to allow him to steal you from me, he’s sadly mistaken.”
Whoa. There was way too much in that to digest. “Don’t you dare go all caveman on me, Lewis Adair. I am not some thing to be stolen. I belong only to me.”
“And me.” He pounded his fist passionately against his chest.
I’d never seen him so agitated. Not even when we’d broken up.