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"No, that's the one Hayes is trying to talk me into." I sigh and type out my response.

Tempting, but not right now.

"You can't even commit to a dog?" Archer pokes me.

Emmett barks out a loud laugh.

I gather my tools and raise my middle finger high above my head as I leave. The chorus of laughter behind me doesn't make me any less irritated.

I’ve never been in love with anyone… until last year. One second, I was meeting some of Violet's friends and my life was normal. Next, I was head over heels in love with a stranger, and everything I thought I knew about the world was topsy-turvy.

She's tall, blonde, and curvy, with round hips, sexy tits, and a smile that brings me to my knees. One look at Aubrey, and my soul was connected. But it was insane. Just because I felt it didn’t mean she wanted me.

If the angry glares she sends my way are any indication, she would prefer I didn’t exist at all.

Even as I hustle to my truck, I wonder if I have time to swing by Sugarplum on my way back to the job site in a bit.

Fuck me.

I'm addicted, craving the one treat I know I can never have.

Chapter three

Aubrey

"We have a ghost," Candy declares dramatically.

I hum noncommittally and tap the flickering neon Sugarplum sign.

We're cleaning during the early afternoon lull. Candy is working on everything behind the counter while I wipe down the few smaller tables by the front windows. I'm distracted by the intermittent buzz from the sign. Biting my lip, I contemplate whether the blinking looks more professional than an unlit sign.

"I'd leave it on if I were you," Candy says, reading my mind. "People will think we're closed if you don't, and we'll have a mutiny on our hands. Besides, it kind of gives the place a come-and-get-it vibe."

Spinning around, I gaze at the pastry cases, which are dwindling in inventory. "Yes. Let's hope they come and get everything before closing."

I stretch my arms over my head and grin. This is the first month when I have a good feel for the inventory and what to prepare for each day. My favorite part of a business is figuring out how it ticks.

When I opened Sugarplum, I’d been unemployed for months. My bakery in the city was bought out by a chain, and I made a tiny profit. Not a windfall, but enough that I could take my time figuring out my next move. After a weekend girls’ trip, I fell in love with this space, which housed a former beloved bakery in Duhring Park that was closing after fifty years. The town felt like coming home for the first time in my adult life, and I knew I could do something special this time.

My alarm sounds, and I glance at my watch.

"All right, I'm headed to Angelo's to deliver the tiramisu pies. Then I need to swing by Sara's house to drop off the anniversary cake she ordered." I take off my apron and hang it neatly on the hook. "I'll be back in about an hour or so."

"No." Candy puts her hands on her hips.

I sigh and prepare for her lecture.

"I'm supposed to handle everything from one until close. That was the whole point of hiring me. Share the load." She swats me with a pink towel.

I grin. "I'm a worker-bee. I need to keep busy, or I might shut down forever."

I wonder what a trained professional would do with that information. Probably prescribe me a vacation.

"I'll tell you what. You can come back this afternoon if you take Sunday off and get out of town until Tuesday." Candy turns to face me.

I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if she was a therapist in a former life.

"I can start the Wednesday inventory on Tuesday night, and you can come in at your usual time on Wednesday to finish everything up."