Fake It Till You Bake It(51)

Oh, God. Her vision dimmed for a second. She paused for a moment to suck in some oxygen. But only for a moment. She needed to get this off her chest, and he’d offered to listen, so he was going to get the full Jada experience. “What if no one has a good time? If they don’t have a good time, they’re going to tell their friends, who are going to tell their friends, and then no one will step foot in this place again, and then you will fire me and I couldn’t even complain because it would totally be my own fault.”

She was rambling. She could hear herself. But since her thoughts had started rioting ten minutes ago when she looked at the clock and decided a trip to the supply closet was desperately needed, that was okay. He wanted to know. Well, now he knew.

He cocked his head to the side, clearly waiting to see if she would catch her second wind and go again. When she remained silent, he nodded. “Jada, I’m not going to fire you.”

“You might!” Her hands twisted together.

He reached for them and squeezed. “I’m not, and the reason I know I’m not is because I haven’t done it already. I didn’t do it when you almost burned down my kitchen. I didn’t do it when you kissed me and declared that I was your boyfriend. I didn’t do it when you rented my business out as meeting space for a book club without asking me first. I didn’t do it when I got roped into posing as a cover model while a room full of boozed-up women whooped and urged me to show them how it’s done at said book club meeting.”

When he put it that way … Oh, God. Why hadn’t he fired her yet? Panic started shredding the lining of her stomach again. She shook her head. “But this time might be different!”

He squeezed her hands again. “Jada, look at me.” She looked up from where his hands, so large and scarred, cradled hers like they were precious cargo. His eyes were steady and calm and sure. “It’s not going to be different.”

She shook her head, the doubts crowding out his assurances. She’d failed before. She’d been riding the high of a successful book club meeting when she’d suggested hosting other events. When would she learn not to be so impulsive? Why would this time be any different? “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen all the hard work you’ve put into this. You saw a hole in the market and are looking to fill it. I’ve seen the results of your hard work—more people in the shop and more making return visits. The place looks, umm, interesting tonight though.”

Jada giggled at the discomfited look on his face. He was really cute when he was being earnest.

“Not only that, her guest list keeps growing. You’ve already told her what you have planned, which means they’re excited to come and experience it. They’re going to love being here, having our amazing cupcakes and drinks, and then they’re going to come back. We all win.”

When he put it that way … Her stomach began to settle. Just a bit. “How are you so logical?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You mean how do I manage not to be impulsive?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled.

A wide smile spread across his face. Whoa, he was fine. Like whoa. Which was not the point. Yes, it was a good distraction, but it was not the point. He shrugged. “It’s just the way I am.” He looked away. Just the way he was? She wasn’t so sure. Before she could travel down that potentially fraught path, he released her hands and pointed at her.

“There are going to be a bunch of hungry folks here in the near future. You got us in this mess, and you’re going to get us out of it.”

The last of her nervousness released its grip on her stomach. She nodded in appreciation. “Bullying. Okay, that’s a technique one could use, I suppose.”

He nodded. “Coaches love to use it. Look, you obviously thought it was a good idea, and you’re nervous, which is understandable. That means you care. Everyone gets nervous.”

“Even you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, even me, Mr. Robot. Every time I step on a football field.”

What? “You’re one of the best defensive players in the league, or at least that’s what all your fanpeople say when they come in here to buy cupcakes and end up gushing in your face.” He side-eyed her. She shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

“Are the nerves as much as when I was in high school or college and knew scouts were watching me? No. I’ve been playing football a long time. But I still want to do a good job every time I step out on the field. Knowing I’ve done everything in my power to prepare calms me.”

She nodded. “Take comfort in my preparation.”

“Exactly.”

“Anything else make you nervous? And be honest! What happens in the supply closet stays in the supply closet,” she reminded him when he looked like he might object.

He quieted and leaned against the wall next to her, his shoulder brushing hers before he put another few inches between them. She bit her lip before an objection could slip past.

She was becoming a greedy little witch when it came to contact with him. She would take it whenever and however she could. She would examine why later. Right now, she wanted to know what made him tick. What made him Donovan. She would also examine the why for that later. In this moment, she just wanted the knowledge.

“Failure,” he said simply.