Chapter Three

Glancing around my abundant closet, I finger the hanger holding my work clothes. I shake my head while I think of all the reasons it’s a bad idea. Jax will be pissed, he’ll tell Logan . . . I can’t think of anything else. Two, just two reasons why I shouldn’t pull the red shirt that has Sweet Tooth embroidered over the right breast off its hanger. Thinking about sitting on the couch next to him, wanting him but knowing he will never give into us again, is too much. I smile wickedly as I drop the towel. I don’t need a babysitter. Jax can be mad all he likes.

After getting dressed as quickly as possible, I hobble back to my bed to retrieve my phone only to realize that it’s still in the living room. So much for sneaking out of here to decorate cakes. I huff in exasperation. This isn’t going to go over well at all.

He seems to have no care in the world as he reads something on his iPad. He hears me, it’s impossible not to with my wood floors, but he ignores me. Good. Hopefully I can swipe my phone off the table and leave before he notices. I bite my lip as I try to bend down for my phone. I avoid him entirely as I straighten back up. As I turn around to leave, I exhale.

“You don’t think you’re going to work do you?” he asks, startling me. “I already called in for you.”

I glare over my shoulder at him. “Last time I checked, you’re not my father and I’m a big girl. I don’t want nor need you calling into work for me.”

He shrugs. “Either way, you’re not going in.”

“Watch me.”

I don’t even make it a step before he’s behind me. He runs his nose through my wet hair and speaks so close to my ear that his lips brush against my skin. “You know I can’t let you go.”

Right. Because of Logan. “Well, tell my dear brother that I’ll be fine doing nothing but decorating.” I turn my head so my nose nearly touches his. “My butt will be firmly attached to the stool the entire time.”

“No.”

The way he says it leaves no room for discussion. This new feisty person I woke up to is steaming. I will not be told no by Jaxon Chandler anymore. I’ve heard that word from him one too many times.

I open my mouth to tell him exactly that, but he’s already sitting on the couch again. What a jerk! He honestly thinks I’m just going to bow down to him. Well, why would he think any differently? All I’ve been doing for the past six years is rolling over and going along with whatever is demanded of me. Am I ready to put up a fight? Is right here, right now, the time for me to say enough and do what I want? Yes. Because if I’m locked in here with Jax, I won’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth, or worse, my actions.

I bite down on my lip as I put weight on my sprained ankle. Wow, one night isn’t enough time for it to heal. I don’t use the crutches, I’m making a point here. When I reach the door, I turn to face him. He’s seething. His jaw is so tight I wouldn’t be surprised if he snapped it.

“You have two options. Lie to Logan and say I’m here with you, or come with me.”

He runs his hand through his fohawk while he grinds his teeth. Okay, so I admit maybe walking on my injured ankle wasn’t the best way to prove that I’m ready to be taken seriously.

“I can just keep you here against your will,” he bluffs.

I smirk at him while opening the door. “You can, but you won’t. Besides, if you come with me I’ll make your favorite.”

When he sighs in defeat, I know I won. “Carrot cake cupcakes?”

“Even with brown bunny ears as decoration.” I almost smile at the memory from when we were younger.

He sits up and slides his feet into his black chucks. It’s only then that I realize that he’s changed. Obviously he’s changed; his suit was dripping wet. He’s in a red Flash T-shirt and black jeans. Him and his superheroes. He’s always been fascinated by the comics, never realizing that once upon a time he was my hero.

He points at the crutches as he meets me at the door. “You can either use those, or I’ll be carrying you. Don’t you dare pull a stunt like that again.”

I mock salute him. “Yes sir.”

The bell chimes as Jax holds open the bakery door for me. Sam glances up from the register and frowns when he sees me. The bakery is almost empty. I knew it would be. There’s one couple sitting at the red iron table to the left of the door. After lunch, usually the only customers are the ones putting in an order for a party. It’s my favorite time to bake.

“I was told you were on bed rest,” Sam says in the fatherly tone he’s mastered from being a dad for two months.

I nod in Jax’s direction. “Is it okay if my shadow is back there with me?”

Once he finishes up with the last customer, Sam turns his attention back on me. His frown deepens. “Adalynn, as much as I need your help today, I can’t have you working like that. Besides, Clark is going to kill me if he finds out.”

I give Sam my best puppy dog eyes. It’s the same face I gave him two years ago when I applied for the job he wasn’t offering. To this day, I believe my winning personality and my superb baking skills are the only reason he took a chance on someone without references or cooking experience. Apparently, baking for your family doesn’t cut it in the baking world. Who knew?

He watches me lead Jax behind the counter to the back room. I’m thankful that Jax has chosen for the first time in his life to stay quiet. I search the room for the white apron with my name on it. Sam appears with my missing apron.

“Clark washed it.” He grins whenever he mentions his adorable better half. The twins they adopted earlier this year are so lucky to have such caring parents.

I accept it and tie it into place around my waist. “Does this mean I’m working?”

He peers at Jax. “Does this mean you’re going to make sure she doesn’t break anything else?”

“I won’t take my eyes off her.”

It seems like Sam mutters, “I bet,” under his breath but I’m not sure. “Create something new,” he tells me.

I can’t help but beam at him. This is my favorite part about working here, creating something new, something different, that will make your taste buds come to life. The very first time I told a customer that I could invent a cake that wasn’t on the menu, I thought Sam would have a stroke. Granted, once he took the first bite, he was sold. Now, two years later I have free rein of the kitchen. Sam works the customers, Clark handles the business along with their adjacent restaurant, and I do my magic. It’s perfect and I love it. I can’t wait for Jax to witness it, too.

I face Jax, who leans against the stainless steel counter tops. Even though he’s trying not to show it, I know he’s uncomfortable. Jax has never been one to sit idly. He needs a task and I need help.

I point at the white apron hanging on a hook on the far wall. “You’ll need to put that on if you’re going to be of any use.”

“You’re putting me to work?” he asks but he struts his way to the apron.

I walk to the fridge to snag the ingredients. “Yes, I’m in need of an assistant.”

I feel him behind me but I pretend that I don’t. I swallow loudly. “Can you grab the butter and cream cheese?”

He reaches in front of me for the items. I suck in a breath as his hard chest presses against my back. Desperately I want to melt into him, but I can’t. I don’t deserve happiness. I stole away theirs.

I direct Jax to everything we will need. As he sets the bowls in front of me, his other hand trails down my spine. It takes every ounce of will power to not shiver at the contact. Happiness is for everyone else but me. Jax watches the movements of my hands as I pour the first batter into the cupcake tins. Hopefully he’s paying attention because he’s doing the next batch. As I wipe a paper towel over the extra batter on the tin, I can feel him studying me. I focus on the task at hand.