Torn (Billionaire Bachelors Club #2)(21)

“I stayed pretty late last night,” I finally say. “What time did you get here?”

“Around four. I came early, couldn’t sleep.” Gina opens the oven door and reaches inside, a baking mitt covering her hand as she slowly withdraws the cooking sheet from inside. Perfectly formed golden brown croissants fill the tray, the fragrant aroma making my mouth water.

And I left just past eleven, so it had to have happened between midnight and four. “I bet it was kids.”

“I’m sure. I already cleaned up the mess. It wasn’t that bad, but it makes me reluctant to set out any more pumpkins.” Gina shakes her head. “Jerks.”

“Yeah.” Unable to resist, I pluck a piping hot croissant off the tray, tearing off a small piece and dropping it into my mouth. It melts on my tongue, warm and so freaking delicious I moan loudly. “So good, Gina.”

She beams with pride. “Thank you. You know, you can check the security cameras. See if you can see anything.”

“You’re right.” I tear off another piece and chew. I always forget about the security cameras. They’re relatively new. “I think I’ll go check it out.”

“Let me know if you see anything,” she calls after me as I leave the kitchen and head to my office.

Deciding I better check before I get on with my normal day and forget, I log into the security site we use, bringing up the outdoor camera. I fast forward through the film, not really seeing anything until around two-thirty in the morning, when two people with slender builds and hoodies over their heads and faces come along and smash the pumpkins against the sidewalk, kicking them over and jumping up and down on them like they’re bouncing on a trampoline.

Yep, kids. So stupid.

They don’t linger long and I stop checking, knowing there’s not much I can do since I can’t see their faces. Besides, maybe I could get them on vandalism charges, but come on, what cop is going to go after kids destroying pumpkins?

If it happens again, then I’ll contact the police. For now, I’m letting it lie.

Huh. I wonder if the cameras caught Gage and me last night? My cheeks heat at the thought of seeing the two of us kissing in the front entrance, me plastered against the door . . .

Deciding to check the other cameras, I click quickly through the feeds, rewinding and fast-forwarding through the last few days, momentarily startled to notice that business is definitely picking up during the early lunch crowd. I usually don’t come out and help behind the counter until around twelve thirty, but customers are coming in even earlier, the place looking packed around eleven thirty.

I know by the daily tallies that business is increasing, but seeing the evidence makes it even more real.

Great. Business is picking up, and I’m thrilled. But are Gage and I on the camera feed or what?

Continuing my search, my heart starts racing when I don’t find any evidence of the two of us, when really there should be. The camera system cost a bundle when we initially purchased it, but the monthly maintenance fee isn’t that bad and worth the expense. Though maybe I should reassess. Who really needs a camera on the kitchen? Really the only people who are in there are me and Gina and our handful of employees.

Right. And me and Gage last night . . .

Sitting up straight, I go to the kitchen camera feed, my head pounding as I scroll back to approximately ten o’clock last night. I start to fast-forward again, slower this time, until a horrified gasp escapes me.

Gage, with his back to the camera and still clad in his suit, his big hands holding my arms above my head as he kisses me senseless.

Arousal drips through me, slow as honey, and I lean my forearm on the edge of my desk. My mouth goes dry as I watch us. I feel like a voyeur even though I know it’s me. And Gage. I can almost feel his lips on mine, our tongues touching, my hand buried in his hair—

“You have a phone call.” Gina peeks her head around my office door, and I squeal, clicking out of the camera feed so quick I swear I strained my finger.

“Holy crap, you scared me.” I rest my hand against my chest, feeling my rapidly beating heart. If she’d come inside, she probably would’ve seen the footage. How could I explain that?

And how the hell do I get rid of it?

“Didn’t mean to.” She lingers in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Who is it?” I ask, breathing deep, smoothing a shaky hand over my hair as I try to gain some composure. Watching the video of Gage and me together has me rattled. And I didn’t even really get to see anything.

I saw enough, though, to remember just how good he made me feel.

“I don’t know. I happened to pick it up when I went out to the front and he didn’t leave a name. Just asked for you.” Gina leaves without saying anything else, and I reach for the phone.

“Hello, this is Marina.” The person on the other end is silent for so long I wonder if they’ve hung up. “Hello?”

“Hey,” the word is breathed out, the voice undeniably familiar.

“Gage?” I tighten my fingers around the receiver, startled he’s calling me. I thought he’d hate me, after what I did to him. “Um . . .”

“Yeah, this is awkward. Listen, I talked to Archer about you.”

I’m stunned. Why would he still talk to Archer about me? “You did?”