Page 14 of Tanner
Her breath hitched, a concerned look in her eye. “Are you feeling okay today?”
Good. It was about time she felt it, too.
Tanner crossed his arms as Junie shifted behind the display case. She was smiling, but there was also uncertainty there. That slight tightness around her lips and the way her hands moved a little too quickly told him everything he needed to know.
Was she beginning to get his message, or was it something else?
“You seem uneasy today, Cupcake,” he said, keeping his voicelight and teasing even as concern sharpened inside his chest. “Everything alright?”
Junie waved a hand like she could brush the question away. “I’m fine. Just tired. Busy morning.”
He narrowed his eyes, that familiar skepticism settling deep in his gut.
Then she glanced nervously toward the far end of the counter. A large bouquet of white roses sat there in a crystal vase, looking formal and expensive, completely out of place in her warm, cozy bakery.
He clenched his hands into fists. Who the fuck did Preston Lassiter—because he was the only pampered prick who’d do something so stupid—think he was? It was taking too damn long for that pompous jackass to get the message. Junie belonged to Tanner. So if anyone was buying her roses, it was going to be him. She didn’t even like roses. She liked bouquets of wildflowers she picked herself from the fields on his ranch.
After all the times Junie had tried to tell Preston to back off, the guy was still at it. If he wasn’t careful, Tanner was going to handle the situation himself. And he had zero problem getting blood on his hands to make sure the message stuck.
“Do I even need to ask who the fuck sent you those flowers?” he demanded, voice dropping into that deep, commanding tone he rarely used with her.
Junie froze for half a second, then shrugged like it was nothing. “Just… someone being nice. It’s not important.”
Tanner stepped around the counter, crowding her space until she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “Try again, little baker. And don’t lie to me.”
She crossed her arms, lifting her chin higher in that stubborn way that always made his palm itch. “They’re from Preston. He’s been sending things lately. But like I keep telling you, he’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” He spat out the word like it was bitter. “Why the hell is he still sending you flowers? You told me that you’d made it clear to him you weren’t interested.”
“I’ve tried,” Junie pushed back, her eyes flashing with defiance. “He just doesn’t get it. Preston’s not that bad. He’s just… persistent. He still thinks about the time I was nice to him in high school. He got the wrong idea, and he’s never let that go. But you don’t need to worry. I can handle it.”
The urge to throw her over his shoulder and take her home where he could keep her safe burned through him like wildfire. Instead, he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“You need to trust me on this, Junie,” he said, his voice brooking no argument . “He’s not harmless. If you can’t convince him to stop sending you shit, then I will.”
Junie stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes wide.
“You seem to be really upset.”
Tanner released her chin, moving his hand to cup her jaw. “That would be an accurate statement.”
“No. I mean a different upset.” Junie was now staring at him as if in wonder. “I’ve never seen you upset likethisbefore.”
Tanner slid his fingers into her hair, letting the silky strands slip between them as a slow, wicked grin tugged at his lips. Heat curled low in his gut while he drank her in.
“You’re a smart girl, Cupcake. Figure it out.”
Tanner turned to leave, but stopped at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes landed on the sad bouquet still sitting on the counter.
“I want to know the next time he sends you something. Meanwhile, get those funeral decorations off the counter,” he said, voice low and firm.
He pushed the door open, the bell chiming behind him as he stepped out into the morning light.
CHAPTER SIX
The familiar warmth of Bread & Batter wrapped around her. Junie willed it to sink all the way into her tired bones as she wiped her hands on her favorite pink apron.
The morning rush had finally slowed to a manageable trickle, and now her favorite girls had claimed their usual corner table near the window, turning what was supposed to be a quick coffee stop into full-blown girls’ night planning.
