Sweet Forty-Two(84)

What a dick.

As predicted, when I pulled into our driveway, I saw the light shining in the bakery kitchen. I knew the door would be locked, and I didn’t want to scare the hell out of her right before I apologized by bursting in through the interior door, so I knocked on the glass door outside.

And knocked.

And pounded a fist.

My pulse became slightly frantic, as she seemed to ignore me, until I caught the bright pink outline of her earbuds and noticed her phone tucked into her shirt pocket. A few seconds later, she looked in the direction of the door and jumped when she saw me.

I waved, pointing to the door, asking to be let in. She seemed to take a deep breath, but exhaled with a smile as she held up one finger. I watched her lean forward as she pulled a baking sheet from the oven and set it on the stainless steel table behind her.

She jogged over to the door a second later, and I smiled at the short shorts and combat boot combination that first caught my attention a couple of months before. Her smile widened as she unlocked and finally pushed the door open.

“Hi,” she said, holding the door open.

“Hi.” I tried to take a step in, but her hand stopped me.

“Wait a sec. Don’t move.” She pulled her hand away from the door and nearly skipped across the seating area to the far wall, flicking two light switches.

The pre-dawn darkness was still heavy enough for me to notice pink and blue lights turn on at the front of the building. I leaned my head to the side, to try to see what she’d done, but she yelled as she ran back to the door.

“I said don’t move!” She laughed nervously as she met me outside and took my hand, bringing me to the front of the building. “Well ... now you can move.” She shifted on her feet, nodding upward toward the sign.

It took me a while to tear my eyes away from studying the way hers lit up. She seemed hesitant to look at me as her eyes remained fixed on the neon sign above us. Finally, I looked.

Sweet Forty-Two.

The letters were in no particular pattern, some blues were two in a row, some pinks three, and most of them were in a different font.

“You’ve got a name! But ... wait...” My excitement at this tiny detail that had been annoying the piss out of me for the last couple of months waned. “Forty-two?”

She nodded, pouring everything she had silently from her eyes into mine.

Forty-two days. You’ve been in my bakery with me for forty-two days.

“This is ... from our conversation the other day?” I swallowed hard, looking between the sign and her face.

She smiled. “It is.”

“But ... we kind of ... ended on a shitty note there.”

“It wasn’t about that day, Regan. It was about the forty-two before that. You didn’t just help me in the bakery and break down my stubborn walls.” She took a deep breath and reached for my other hand. “You broke down the walls and lead a search party for the pieces of me you knew you could love, and you dragged those out of the f*cking rubble I’d let pile up around my soul.”

“Georgia,” I whispered, moving my hands up to her face, letting the warm fullness of her cheeks warm my hands.

“It was,” she cleared her throat as I watched her eyes water, “the sweetest forty-two days of my entire life, Regan.”

I pulled her head to my chest and kissed the top of her head. “What if I didn’t f*cking come back? Or, what if I did and we didn’t talk anymore?”

She shrugged beneath my arms. “It wouldn’t have changed those days and what they did for me. Plus,” she pulled away and wiped under her eyes, “you asked me if I could believe in a prince. I believe in you. Will you believe in me?”

“What?” I shook my head in confusion.

“Will you believe in me? Will you be patient with me and hold me and trust ... me. I realize that’s a huge thing to ask, given everything that’s happened—”

I cut her off. “I believed in you from the second I laid eyes on you, Georgia. There was never anything unbelievable about you. Well,” I laughed, “it was all a bit unbelievable, but you know what I mean. You’re real. Raw and jagged. Confusing and curious and ... nonsense. And, I believe every single bit of it.”

“Do we get to kiss now?” She sniffed, an unsure smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Don’t you even want to hear my apology?”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

“Being an ass. Kicking you out of my apartment. Telling you it was too late. Pick one, I’ve got more...”

Georgia lifted up on her tiptoes. “That, I believe, is called being human. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

As our lips got closer, our smiles faded and our breathing got heavier. Clouds of anticipatory breath swirled around us, highlighted by the freshly rising sun. Our lips finally touched, both of us taking deep breaths, submerging ourselves in the feeling.

Georgia’s cold nose brushed against mine and we smiled and we kissed until the sun had fully risen and the world started a new day with new love.

The best kind.

“Wait a second,” I asked as I pulled away. “How’d you get a lighted sign made in three days?”

“There’s a sign shop in La Jolla. I’d been there a few times talking designs and names with the guy. When this name hit me, I knew I’d be out of luck, that there was no way they’d be able to make the sign before the grand opening in two weeks. But, I figure the outside should match the inside, so the guy took me to the storage room where they keep pieces of old signs, letters they never used, prototypes, all of that. There were enough there for what I needed. He came yesterday and wired everything in and ... here.” She held up her hand, once more showcasing the bright sign.