Page 60 of Strike
Since our confrontation at The Underground a week ago, things had settled. Well, the best they could with the shop’s opening looming. We were much more open with each other, his comfort levels had increased tenfold, and we were on the up-and-up. Those walls he’d built after his return from America were beginning to be dismantled, and the real man was shining through. Thechangedman.
His experiences had shaped him more than he’d realized, and I really fucking loved what was underneath. It wasn’t just in reference to his sexy as hell sculpted body but the heart he’d denied having his whole life. The heart that beat with mine.Hell, I was turning into a complete sap.
We’d been through a lot of emotional turmoil since the fire, and even though our story was unconventional, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Things happened exactly as they needed to. We’d both needed a hell of a kick up the ass to get us moving. It kind of paralleled my current zombielike state, if that was even comparable.
“Mark!” I exclaimed, opening my arms as he approached.
Pulling me into his embrace, he chuckled. “You look sexy in that little apron.”
“Shut up, I look like shit. I’ve been up half the night baking, and we were back here at six a.m.? I’m pretty sure there’s icing in my hair.”?????
“So? You look pretty fucking hot if you ask me,” he retorted. “Hey, did you know there’s a line outside?”
I leaned back with a frown. “There’s a what?”
“Man, you are dedicated to your work.” He shook his head with a playful grin. “I bet you haven’t even looked up even for one second.”
“Not really. I want this to be perfect…” Extracting myself from his arms, I moved over to the door and peeked through the opening. Melissa was placing the rainbow cakes I’d just made into the display case while Stephan and Mallory, the front of house staff I’d hired, were tidying up the counter and arranging the last of the decorations for the opening. Beyond them was the outside world—a place I’d forgotten existed in the last few days—and it was equal parts alarming and exhilarating.
People were lined up along Brunswick Street, filling the entire length of the window. If they went any further, I had no idea, but it didn’t matter. There were people waiting for the store to open so they could taste my cakes. I began to wiggle on the spot, shifting my weight from one foot to the other like I had ants in my pants.
“They go right down the street,” Mark said. “Have you got enough cakes?”
“Oh, fuck!” I cursed. “I made a schedule and have inventory, but… I don’t know… Oh, fuck!”
“Calm down,” he said, grasping my shoulders and turning me around. “Enjoy this moment, Callie. They’re here for you and your cakes. This is your dream, remember?”
I sighed, melting into his touch. “You’re right. Mark, I…”
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He cupped my face with his good hand and gently cradled my back with his cast. The two girls I had helping me in the kitchen rushed around us, giggling as Mark and I kissed.
“I’m here! I’m here!” We turned as Macy appeared through the back door, shucking off her coat and looking completely frazzled. “The tram was stuck behind a wall of traffic. Then I see the fucking line outside! Holy Fuck!” She froze when she saw Mark, and her lip curled. “Still not a fan.”
Mark tensed. “Let me see if I can help out front.” He moved through the door and into the shop, leaving my overzealous housemate and me in the kitchen.
“Leave him be,” I said. “We’re a work in progress. I made my choice.”
“By dumping Hector Vanderhall?”
“I told you the other day,” I said, putting my hands on my hips, “I didn’t turn the job down because of Mark. I turned it down because I didn’t want it. This is what I want my life to be.” I gestured to the kitchen and glanced at Mark, who was lingering just through the door. “This.”
“I really thought you would’ve dropped him,” Macy said, clearly aware he was right behind her. “Not run off to some criminal establishment.”
“Macy,” I scolded. “I explained it to you.”
“How pushing everyone away was easier than actually, you know, living?” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t push a rock uphill.”
“I am a resistant asshole,” Mark said with a smirk.
“And just so you know,” she declared, turning to face him, “if you hurt her again, you had better watch your back.”
He raised his eyebrows and glanced at me. “You’ve got good taste, Winslow.”
“Is he being patronizing?” Macy asked, glancing at me. “Because I can’t tell if the brain is working in connection with the brawn or if there’s one there at all.”
“He’s being sincere, Mace.”
“You’ll like me one day,” he added before stepping around her so he could get to me. Sliding his arm around my waist, he pulled me close. “I was going to wait until later to tell you, but I got the call yesterday.”
