Torn A Billionaire Bachelors Cl(15)

And that his touch is my only relief . . .

Closing my eyes briefly, I stifle the moan that wants to escape and sit up straight, shuffling the stacks of bills into their own haphazard organized piles that only I understand. I drop them all into my desk drawer and shut it with a satisfying thud, then wipe my hands. Like I’m all efficient and totally handled yet another stressful workday, going over bills and taking care of business.

I so didn’t handle it. I barely made a dent in our past-due situation. Yet another fun night trying to manage everything at the bakery, while it all falls down around me no matter what I try and do.

I push away from my desk and stand, then grab my sweater and purse hanging from the little coatrack I keep in the corner of the room. Hitting the light switch as I exit my office, I walk through the kitchen, smiling when I see everything shiny, bright, and clean. My aunt prides herself on keeping an immaculate kitchen and scrubs until it’s spotless every single evening before she leaves.

Walking through the swinging door that opens onto the front of the café, I turn off the switch next to the doorframe, so the only thing left lit is the glass case that houses the cakes, cookies, bars, and all the other delicious stuff Gina bakes, though it stands empty now. Gina will be back at it tomorrow, arriving before the sun rises so she can make all of her delicious goodness ready for the morning crowd.

She can make a chocolate croissant that would have your eyes rolling into the back of your head it’s so good. I’d put in a special request for them tomorrow just before she left. She said she’d make a double batch just for me.

Working at the bakery is going to kill my figure and make my butt big if I don’t watch it. A girl can hold out for only so long.

I push in the rest of the chairs, the task forgotten after I rejected Gage and basically kicked him out of the café. Everything else in the area is clean. Perfect and ready for tomorrow—so why am I lingering? Shouldn’t I want out of this place since I’m going to be right back and at it with gusto by seven o’clock tomorrow morning?

Where else do you have to go? Not like you have anyone to go to besides your parents, and they sure as heck don’t count.

That is the most depressing thought ever. I feel like I’ve been listening to all the women in my family crying over how I’m a spinster at twenty-freaking-three and it’s starting to take hold. If I think about it too much, I believe it. I’m a total screw-up.

Blowing out a harsh breath, I hang my head back, staring at the ceiling. Since when did I turn into such a world-class failure?

I hear a faint knocking on the front door, causing the bell hanging above it to tinkle and I startle, looking straight through the glass and right at . . .

Gage Emerson? Standing on the doorstep?

I frown at him, wondering if I’ve become delusional. I’m hallucinating. No way is he really standing there . . . is he?

Shaking my head, I blink my eyes shut, counting to ten before popping them open again. He’s still standing there, though now he’s clearly impatient with me, if the glower on his face says anything. His hands are resting on his hips, pushing back his unbuttoned, elegantly cut navy jacket and showing off that broad chest of his, his tie loose around his neck, his shirt wrinkled. He’s rumpled and looks absolutely delicious.

Oh God. I need to get rid of him, and quick.


Gage

MARINA IS LOOKING at me in utter disbelief. Like she can’t believe I’ve somehow magically appeared in front of her. She even closed her eyes for a few seconds. Does she think I might be a figment of her imagination or something? I don’t know. There’s an entire building separating us and I want in. She didn’t conjure me up.

Nope. I’m real. As in I’m the idiot who’s drawn to her despite her obvious hate—or at the very least, disinterest in me. I must be a glutton for punishment because here I am, standing in front of her door in the hopes that just maybe she’ll still be inside the bakery. Despite the fact it’s past nine o’clock and she shut the place down at five.

Then unceremoniously kicked me out.

Luck’s on my side tonight, I guess, finding her here.

Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me. I left Autumn Harvest and went back to the house, hoping to get in a few phone calls. Hell, I even tried to call her father but he wasn’t in. Not that he’s ever in for me.

I think the guy is on to me. I haven’t been sneaky about my approach, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew all about my sniffing around his property.

But the thrill of the hunt couldn’t hold its allure today. I got depressed. And I never get depressed. I’ve been rejected twice within an hour. First by Marina, then by her father. It’s a multigenerational-rejection type of day.