Sweet Addiction(57)

His footsteps follow behind me and I feel his hand grab a hold of mine. “Hold on, I’ll walk you out.” He turns towards the pair of tennis shoes that are by the couch and slips them on quickly.

Stopping in front of Sam, I glance over at Reese who is staring peculiarly at my vehicle, no doubt hurting my precious Sam’s feelings in the process. Good Lord, we can’t all drive Range Rovers. “Why the hell did you drive your delivery van over here?” His finger traces the cupcake design on the side as he studies it in his usual Reese way.

“Um, because it’s my only car.” I open the driver’s side door and hop in as he moves to stand by me.

“You don’t own a regular vehicle?”

I shake my head. “No, Mr. Money bags. I used to drive an old corolla but it broke down and I never really had the money to get a new car so, I just take Sam everywhere. It pisses Joey off but I don’t mind.” Reese runs his hand through his hair and I sigh. “Don’t you dare hate on Sam. He’s been the only man in my life that has never let me down besides my father.”

He squints at me and leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “And me I hope.”

“Humph. The jury’s still out on you, handsome.” I feel him pull back to allow me to leave when I grip his T-shirt and pull him close to me again, nuzzling my head into my favorite spot on his neck. “Just give me a minute.” I hear a tiny laugh as his hand comes up to hold me against his body. Even though I’m a little irritated and a lot confused, everything seems to melt away when I’m close to him like this. I inhale deeply, allowing his smell to run through me and hopefully rub off enough to take some of him home.

“You can stay with me and do this all night if you want,” he says softly. I close my eyes and shake my head against him. “Fine but just so you know, I’m not a fan of this bullshit no sleepover rule.”

I pull away from him and rest my forehead against his, seeing his serious expression. “I should go,” I whisper and he grabs my face and plants kisses all over it as I try to contain my euphoria. Playful Reese is hard to let go of, but I somehow manage. Closing my door, he walks to the curb and watches me as I pull away, his incredible build slowly getting smaller in my rear view.

My mind is racing as I drive home. So many things happened tonight that I wasn’t anticipating and don’t quite know how the hell to react to. Between him dropping everything to come to me, telling me that I’m all he thinks about, and declaring himself my boyfriend, I feel completely unprepared for what to expect out of him next. Fuck my rules. Reese has his own set that he is playing by and I’m completely oblivious to all of them.





Thirteen


It poured down rain all day on Wednesday, preventing our usual steady flow of walk-in customers from making the trek down Fayette Street. I stayed busy in the kitchen all day which I tended to do most rainy days, while Joey rifled through my planner to make sure we were prepared for all upcoming orders. I had one wedding this weekend and the Frey’s anniversary cake to make which I decided to get started on after lunch on Thursday. In between mixing the ingredients, I scroll over the last several text messages between Reese and myself that had transpired yesterday. He really is an expert at the flirty text messages thing. I had just managed to slip the cake into my double oven when Joey’s voice comes ringing through the shop.

“Cupcake, you have a delivery,” he sings and I move quickly past the worktop and through the doorway. Fred is standing in front of the counter and smiles at me, his gap-toothed grin spreading across his face.

“Hi, Fred. How are you today?” I ask as he steps up to the counter. Fred is the only other man that makes my heart flutter at his appearance, and it’s only because he always comes with something from Reese.

“I’m great, Ms. Dylan. Here you go.” Sliding a brown envelope across to me and holding out his clipboard, I sign for it and hold up my finger to him. I grab a bakery box and fill it with some apple turnovers, slipping one into a separate small bag and handing them out to him.

“Would you please give this box to Mr. Carroll for me? The one in the bag is for you,” I say and his smile manages to grow.

“Sure. Thanks, Ms. Dylan. See ya, Joey,” he responds excitedly, turning on his feet and walking out the door. “Bye, Freddy,” Joey replies in his flirty voice, earning himself an eye roll from me.

“Seriously? He’s like sixty.”

“Age is just a number, cupcake.”

I open the envelope and pull out the tiny brown card, my heart beating so loud that I’m sure Joey will give me shit about it.