Page 36 of Along Came Summer

I take a moment and repeat that mantra a couple of times until I feel myself relax and the anger that burned hot in my veins slowly ebb away. I might not be able to get away for good, but I can take a couple of days to work through this mess in my head. Reaching back into my back pocket to retrieve my phone I frown when I feel my pocket is empty. Standing straight, I feel the other one and then the front pockets and let out a string of curses when I realise I’ve gone and lost my damn phone.

Okay,think,Levi. You last had your phone when you read a text message from Nate, and that was… in the bakery.Shit. I left my phone in the bakery. Stepping out of the alley I do a quick jog down the street toward the bakery and sigh when I see the lights are dimmed but still on toward the back of the store. I stare at the ‘we’re closed’ sign with a scowl and push the door, expecting it to be locked, but it opens. I poke my head in and the moment I do I hear music coming from the back.

“Hello?” I call out as I warily step inside and follow the sound of the music. Is that Candyman?

“He's a one-stop shop, makes the panties drop. He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman.”

Oh yeah, it’s Candyman, all right.

“Hello?” I call out again as I lean over the counter. I can see the silhouette of someone moving around in the back, but the music is so loud they can’t hear me.

Fucking hell.

The swing door to get behind the counter is ajar, so I push it, open it, and warily walk in. There’s a small round glass just behind the coffee machine, so I look through to see if I can spot someone to get their attention before I get accused of breaking and entering and get arrested, because that would just be the fucking cherry on top of my…cake.

“Whoa,” I breathe when I spot a girl dancing around the kitchen while merrily singing into a whisk. She’s in a bright yellow apron with the bakery’s name and logo printed on the front. Under that, she’s wearing a red knee-length dress that hugs her body in all the right places. My feet move before I can stop them. There’s something about the way she’s dancing barefoot and singing that has me wanting to silently observe.

There’s an infectious light of merriment surrounding her, and she draws me into it, and despite my foul mood, I find myself smiling. She’s freaking adorable. Her light mousey brown hair is sleek, chin-length and naturally wavy, bouncing around as she moves. Intrigued, I lean against the doorframe and watch as she picks up an egg, cracks it against the side of the bowl, and pops it open with her fingers until the yolk and white plop into the mixing bowl.

She’s completely oblivious to her surroundings as she twirls and whirls around the kitchen, stopping to take a sip of her glass of wine between measuring and adding ingredients into the bowl.

She has a pretty smile and, from what I can tell, sparkling ocean-blue eyes that twinkle with warmth and joy.

I feel a pang of guilt for standing there and watching her like some weirdo, but something about her beguiled me, and I didn't want to disturb her little party of one. And if I'm being honest, it was a respite for me too; a momentary escape from that deep ache in my chest that has been suffocating me lately.

The music changes to ‘Genie in a Bottle’ by Christina Aguilera, and her dancing slows to a more sensual sway of her hips while she sings along melodiously to the lyrics and picks up a glass jar of powdered sugar and pops the lid open. When she sways her hips, my eyes inherently wander down the length of her slim body.

Levi, you are going straight to hell. Stop staring like a fucking moron and say something!

By the time I gather my thoughts and open my mouth to speak, she spins, and our eyes lock. The sugar jar slips out of her hands and crashes to the ground with a loud thud. Shards of glass scatter everywhere and a cloud of fine sugar dust fills the surrounding air while she lets out a startled scream.

I wince. Well done, moron.

I raise my hands up in surrender to clarify that I'm no threat. “Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I tried calling out twice, but the music was too loud for you to hear me.” I explain sheepishly over the music, and she stares back at me with wide blue eyes. I can see her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath she takes as her heart rate increases.

“Alexa, stop!”

The music suddenly stops, and she places her hand on her chest, her eyes never leaving mine. “McBroody?”

My brows furrow, “I’m sorry?”

She shakes her head abruptly, “Holy crap on a stick, what are you… how on earth did you get in here?”

What? Did I just hear her correctly? Did she just saycrap on a stick?

“Uh,” I glance back at the entrance door and then at her. “The door was unlocked. Like I said, I did try and call out to you, but the music was so loud that you didn’t hear me. I was looking for my…” I look down at her bare feet and the shards of broken glass around her. “Oh shit, you should—” When I take a step toward her, she instinctively goes to retreat, but I shake my head and hold my hands out to stop her. “No, wait, don't move,” I tell her hastily, and she goes stiff, her blue eyes wary until I point to the mess of sugar and broken glass around her, and her eyes follow. “There’s broken glass everywhere, and you’re not wearing any shoes.”

Her pretty eyes bulge with realisation. “Oh, God.” She gnaws her lower lip while studying the area she's surrounded in, likely wondering how she’s going to get out of there without shredding her feet with all the broken glass. “Wow, uhm...” she rubs her forehead and heaves a frustrated sigh. “You're here for your phone?” she asks, looking around the kitchen in search of something.

I sigh, relieved; she has my phone. “Yes, I hoped it slipped out of my pocket before I left here.”

“I found it on the chair. I stepped outside hoping I would catch you, but you were already gone. I figured you would come for it, eventually.” I nod and observe her looking down at her soiled red dress, now smattered in powdered sugar. She tries to dust it off with her hands. “Your phone is in the drawer under the register. It’s unlocked, so you can go ahead and take it from there,” she utters distractedly.

I narrow my eyes and take another step toward her. “Thank you for holding onto it for me.” She looks up, and my eyes catch her baby blues. “I’m sorry for the mess. Can I help?” I offer, motioning to the mess all over the floor, and she shakes her head.

“Oh, no, thank you for the offer, but…” she says and winces adorably. “That’s not necessary. I'll clean this all up in a jiffy. Just as soon as I figure out how I’m going to avoid all this glass and keep all my toes—ohmigosh!” Before she finishes her sentence, I scoop her into my arms, and she lets out an adorable squeal as I lift her, walk her over to the counter, and gently sit her on top of it. “Wow, uh…okay. What… what just happened here?” she questions, stupefied. She draws her head back, watching me warily as I place my hands on either side of her on the counter and lick my lips. My God, her eyes are even more beautiful up close. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyesthatblue before.

“Please forgive my forwardness. I don't mean any disrespect or to overstep, but I'm not about to leave you herebarefootwhen the floor is littered in broken glass. I wouldn't be able to live with myself and my mother would be very disappointed in me if you hurt yourself because of me.”

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