Fake It Till You Bake It(28)

“So, truce?” He held out his hand. His large hand engulfed hers.

She sucked in a breath at the innocuous contact. Jada forced a smile to hide her reaction. “Truce.”

She was going to ignore that weird, quick flare of something wicked and pleasurable that flowed through her every time they touched. It was … nothing.

He aggravated her. She aggravated him, and that was just the way it was. She was not going to repeat the mistakes from her past, like falling for guys too hard too fast, no matter how not right they were for her.

She was here to make sure she gained control over her trust fund so she could fully take control over her life. That’s all that mattered. Well, not completely.

Now that she was here, she wanted to prove she was capable of more than almost (even though not really) burning down a kitchen. She hadn’t asked for this job, but now that she had it, she wanted to prove she could do it. She didn’t want to see that disappointment on his face again. She’d seen that same disappointment on too many other faces throughout her life. Operation: Jada Gets Her Life Together was officially on.

She squared her shoulders and met Donovan’s gaze. “I promise to do better.”

That’s all that mattered.





Chapter Eight


Donovan studied Jada out of the corner of his eye while he made a fresh pot of coffee. She was across the room chatting and laughing with a table of customers. They hadn’t spoken since their meeting in his office an hour earlier.

“So look,” she’d said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t think baking is for me.”

Had “baking” ever been uttered with such distaste and mistrust before? “Giving up already?”

Her shoulders deflated while a shadow crossed her face. “Quitting while I’m ahead.”

And he felt like shit all over again. Damn. “Hey, I really am sorry for yelling at you.”

“I know,” she’d said with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes before escaping.

Instead of going after her, he’d stayed in his office because what else was there to say? Besides, he had work to do—ordering supplies, paying invoices, staring at yesterday’s dismal sales numbers, and not thinking about how the simple act of touching Jada’s ankle had made him hotter than he’d been in too long to contemplate. Her ankle. Good Lord. Had he transported himself to the Victorian era? And then she’d smiled at him—really, smiled—after the comfort and amazingness of the Crocs had sunk in. He’d felt like he’d been sucker punched.

But it was all nonsense. Inconsequential nonsense. He didn’t deal with nonsense, inconsequential or otherwise. He’d made that promise to himself years ago, and his life had improved exponentially. In regard to Jada, they were temporary colleagues, and that’s where it needed to start and end.

So why had he made his way to the front counter long before his official shift was supposed to begin? Oh, right. Because Jada was his employee, and he needed to monitor her progress. Make sure she didn’t try to burn the place down again. And maybe because he’d heard Nicholas’s voice followed by her laughter after Ella’s shift ended. Nicholas had given him a shit-eating grin when he spotted Donovan before retreating to the kitchen.

“Gonna break your neck if you keep staring at her like that,” a grumpy voice drawled from behind Donovan.

Donovan spun to face the counter. “What?”

The graybeard staring at him didn’t flinch. “You heard me. I’ve been standing here for a while now, and you didn’t notice. I might be old, but I’m not foolish. You might be though if all you do is stare without making a move.”

He was getting killed by a man old enough to be his grandfather. Awesome. Donovan cleared his throat. “Welcome to Sugar Blitz. How can I help you?”

The old man snickered while he studied the menu board. “Well, I don’t know. Give me some time to decide.”

Hadn’t he just said he’d been standing there for a while? But Donovan decided to keep that fact to himself. He was in no position to antagonize customers, even if he spoke the truth.

His shoulders straightened when Jada joined the geezer at the counter. “Hi, Mr. Till. Good to see you again.”

“Oh, hi, Ms. Jada.” Old Guy hitched up his pants and sucked in his paunch before patting his head, where a crown of gray hair circled a shiny brown bald spot.

Donovan blinked. “Wait. You know him?”

Jada turned those amazing chocolaty brown eyes his way, hitting him square in the solar plexus. “Oh, yeah, we’re old friends, right, Mr. Till?”

“Yep. Met yesterday.” He beamed at Donovan, sure he held a higher place in Jada’s affections than Donovan.

“I told him to come back today after he was done playing chess to try out our red velvet cupcakes.” Her smile and tone were both bright and authentic. “He said red velvet was his favorite, but we were out.”

“Yep, I play chess with the fellas at the park and my sweet tooth was cutting up yesterday. This was the closest place I could get something.” But not the preferred place, based on his tone.

Donovan infused his voice with his best “happy to have you here” customer service tone. “Well, we do have a fresh batch of red velvet cupcakes. They’re a crowd favorite.”