The Bakery Sisters (65 page)

It had been a long time for her…five years to be exact, but that wasn't the reason she kept thinking about them being together. It was more because Matt had been the only one to touch her soul. She'd loved him and that had made all the difference.

She finished drying off and picked up the robe. It smelled of fabric softener rather than someone else, which was good. She didn't want to think about the other women in his life.

She put on the robe and used the blow-dryer to get most of the wetness out of her hair, then walked into the bedroom from the bathroom. Matt did the same from the hallway, carrying a mug of coffee. He handed it to her.

“I put your clothes in the wash,” he told her.

“I saw that. Thanks.” She sipped the coffee, feeling awkward and exhausted. The night was a blur of fire and smoke and shattered dreams. Except maybe she still had a shot at her dreams. Maybe it was all going to work out.

There was so much to do, so much to think about. She set down the coffee and rubbed her temples. “I think my head is going to explode.”

“You don't want that,” Matt said. He guided her to the bed. “Come on. Try to sleep. At least for a couple of hours.”

He pulled back the covers. The sheets were beige and striped and looked expensive. Had he bought them himself? Did he have a designer or did one of his women take care of that sort of thing. Maybe the nice secretary she'd met at his office helped out. And how many women had there been in the past five years? A few? Many? Herds?

How could he have done that? Slept with them? Hadn't he missed her at all? Hadn't he loved her like he said, or had they just been the age-old words men had uttered since the beginning of time to get what they wanted?

“Don't cry,” Matt said, touching her cheek and wiping away tears she hadn't felt fall. “You have a plan with the bakery. That's what matters.”

She nodded, because speaking seemed impossible. Besides, what was the point? He actually thought she was only upset about the bakery. How just like a guy.

“I'm just tired,” she managed to murmur. “It's a lot to take in.”

He nodded and stepped back.

She stood by the bed feeling broken and alone, knowing she'd better get used to this because it wasn't going to change. Until that moment, she hadn't realized that talking about the bakery and making it there, reconciling with Nicole, had all been crap. Sure, it was important, but it hadn't been the real reason she'd come back. She'd come back for Matt. She'd come back to see if there was still something between them because she couldn't seem to move on. No other man had interested her and plenty had tried. She'd come back to see if he still loved her.

Looks like she had her answer.

It shouldn't hurt so much, she thought, even as pain sliced through her. She shouldn't be surprised. He'd never come looking for her, so of course he'd moved on. Still, a part of her had wondered if maybe, deep down inside, he'd felt it, too.

She'd been a fool.

There was no way she was going to sleep now, but her clothes were in the wash, so she was stuck for the next hour or so. Better to be alone in his bed than trying to make conversation with him.

“Do you have a T-shirt or something I can borrow?” she asked, hoping the twisting in her stomach went away soon.

He went into the jumbo closet and opened a built-in drawer, then returned with a soft, well-worn Seahawks T-shirt. He started to hand it to her, then swore, tossed it on the bed, grabbed her by the collar of the robe, dragged her close and kissed her.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was determined and hungry, taking as much as it offered. He used his lips to claim her, his tongue to arouse her and, dammit all to hell, it worked.

She found herself straining toward him, kissing him as intensely as he kissed her. She put her hands on his shoulders, then his upper arms and felt the strength of him. The fire she remembered returned, consuming them both. He broke the kiss and stared at her.

“You're just standing there, so calm and reasonable,” he said, his eyes dark with passion. “You're naked, Jess, and that's not something I can ignore.”

“I'm wearing a robe.”

“
My
robe. How do you think that makes me feel?”

His? Not one of the girls'?

The pain in her stomach faded as if it had never been. “I can solve the problem of the robe,” she murmured and shrugged out of it.

The heavy fabric fell instantly, pooling at her feet. His breath hissed, then he was touching her everywhere, his hands skimming her body. She gave herself over to him, kissing him, touching him, feeling the hard planes of his body, so wonderfully familiar.

He pulled back enough to jerk open his shirt. Buttons popped and scattered. He threw the ruined shirt on the floor, quickly removed his shoes, socks, jeans and briefs, then grabbed her around the waist and tumbled them both onto the bed.

They landed on the soft sheets, legs tangling, bodies touching. His erection pressed against her bare belly, his mouth on hers, his hands reached for her breasts. Heat was everywhere. She was already wet and swollen, just from being close to him. She felt herself drowning in sensation. The combination of past and present was too much, and exactly what she wanted.

He shifted so he could brace himself on the mattress, then gazed down at her. “You're so beautiful,” he said as he stroked her hair. “You haven't changed.”

There were a few changes, she thought, but they were mostly on the inside and she didn't want to talk about them.

“Matt,” she said, loving the sound of his name.

He rubbed himself against her thigh, then groaned. “You've always had that power over me. What is it?”

“I don't know. Chemistry.”

“Something.”

He bent down and took her nipple in his mouth. The combination of tongue and lips caused her to arch her back. Her body clenched in anticipation. Wanting built, along with pressure.

He moved to her other breast, pushing her further along the road. She squirmed as her body began to remember how good all this could be. He licked her tight nipple, then sucked, causing her to gasp.

Each time he drew her deeply into his mouth, there was an answer pulse low in her belly. A flare of desire. She began to shift her hips, trying to hurry him along. Preliminaries were nice, but it was like being at a cocktail party when she was starving for dinner.

She could feel how swollen she was. Long dormant parts were insistent that it was time. She wanted to come, but it wasn't so much about the orgasm as it was about coming specifically with Matt. She wanted to know if it was still the same between them.

“Be in me,” she breathed.

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. His dark gaze found hers for a second, then he nodded. He opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out a condom, then put it on.

She parted her legs and braced herself. Did that part shrink from lack of use? Had having a baby made anything different? Was there—

He pushed against her. Despite being wet and ready, she was tight, she thought as he eased inside. Tighter than she remembered.

Inch by inch he filled her, stretching her. Nerves began to quiver, then dance as he rubbed them, going deeper and deeper. It was as if he could go deep enough to touch her soul.

She pushed down as he pushed in, taking all of him, feeling full for the first time since…since…since the last time.

He withdrew and thrust in again. Her body tensed, prepared for release. While Jesse knew it was going to be good, she was almost disconnected from the process. Because this moment wasn't about sex for her. It never had been. It was about finding the connection with the only man she'd ever loved.

Everything was different, she thought sadly. Everything was technically better. His pace, the intensity. He shifted so he was able to reach between them and rub that one swollen spot. It pushed her over the edge in a matter of seconds. Even as her orgasm claimed her, she knew it was as much about technique as anything else.

Then she was lost in the wave and nothing else mattered. There was only the release and all that went with it. She came and came as he filled her and withdrew. The pleasure was endless, causing her to hang on to him, gasp for breath.

When he came himself, she allowed herself to believe it was just like before. That they were together and he loved her and nothing else mattered. It was a beautiful dream that ended when her body was finally still.

He withdrew, then stretched out beside her. They faced each other as they had dozens of times before. She wanted to believe she saw something in his eyes, something that meant he'd felt the pull from the past, too. But she knew that was just wishful thinking on her part. Nothing more.

“That was unexpected,” he told her. One side of his mouth turned up. “Not that I'm complaining.”

“Me, either.”

He touched her cheek, a tender gesture that made her throat get all tight. “Jesse…”

She waited, not breathing, praying that he would say something, anything, to make her believe that there was still a spark between them. That he regretted letting her go all those years ago. That he'd been wrong to judge her and wanted to make it up to her.

He withdrew his hand.

“I'm sorry about the fire,” he told her.

Right. The fire. For a few minutes, she managed to forget the destruction. She rolled onto her back and pulled up the covers.

“We have a plan. We'll see how well it works.”

“You'll figure it out,” he told her.

She nodded. At least thinking about the five million things she had to do so the business could be up and running again meant she didn't have to think about Matt. Business was a whole lot easier to deal with.

“I can't believe Gabe and I were here last night,” she said. “It feels like weeks ago.”

“Thanks for bringing him over. I want to get to know him more.”

She looked at him and smiled. “You were doing much better.”

“He's a good kid.”

The right words, but did he mean them? Did he see Gabe as his child yet? Had being apart for those first few years destroyed the relationship they should have had? Was that her fault?

She'd always comforted herself with the fact that she'd been very clear about the baby being Matt's. He'd been the one to refuse to believe her. But now she wondered if she'd tried hard enough. He'd complained that she hadn't bothered to tell him after Gabe was born. Maybe he had a point. Maybe she should have called or something. Not that he would have listened, but she could have tried harder.

“Do you want to try some one-on-one time with him?” she asked. “You could take him to the aquarium.”

Matt sat up. “Am I ready for that?”

“Probably not, but you're only going to get ready by doing it. The aquarium gives you something to talk about. He's small, he won't last long before getting tired. You'll spend more time driving there and back than actually looking at the fish.” She frowned. “I guess you'll have to borrow my car, or your mom's.” She smiled. “Hers is newer and probably less embarrassing for you.”

He shook his head. “I'll buy something. What's the safest car out there? A Volvo? I'll do some research online.”

Now she sat up. “Matt, you don't have to buy a car to take Gabe out. That's crazy.”

“Why? He's my son. I'll be seeing more of him. I need a safe car. I'll get one this week.”

Of course he would. Because for him, buying a new car was as much an expense as her picking up a pack of gum.

She slid back down in the bed and sighed. Everything was different. On the surface it all looked familiar, but that was an illusion. They'd all changed and pretending otherwise didn't alter reality.

She'd had a baby with Matt, had just made love with him and still she didn't know him. Didn't know what he was thinking, what he wanted, what he needed, what made him laugh, what he resented. He was a stranger with a familiar face, nothing more. No matter what her heart kept telling her, she had to remember that.

“Jesse?”

“Hmm?” She turned toward him.

He rolled toward her and kissed her. A slow kiss that reminded her of how it used to be. A kiss that made her wonder and maybe even hope.

“Get some sleep,” he said. “I'll wake you in a couple of hours.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in his bed.

“C
HECK THE OVENS
,” J
ESSE
called Monday morning as she carried in a stack of boxes and set them in the rear of the kitchen they'd rented. It was smaller than they were used to, but only a short-term solution. A restaurant had closed and the owner was renting to them until a new tenant was found, but for now, it was enough.

Sid opened the top oven door and checked the temperature. “We're on,” he said. “Four hundred.”

“Great.” Ovens that worked were the most important thing.

“Where do you want these?” Jasper asked, carrying in two laptop boxes.

“Out front,” Jesse said. “We'll take orders and do shipping in the front of the restaurant.” Why not? They didn't need the tables and chairs for anything else. It would give them the space to spread out and keep the kitchen clear for baking. “Are the phones working?”

Jasper picked up the receiver. “We have a dial tone,” he yelled.

“The phone company said they'd be forwarding calls by nine.” Jesse glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty. “Call the old number and see if the referral is working yet.”

Jasper began to dial.

Jesse moved around the rented kitchen, energized by the work and the possibilities. Once the rest of their supplies were inventoried, they could start baking. Brownies would go out that day. Tomorrow, someone on the other side of the country would taste one of her brownies and his or her life would change forever. At least that was the plan.

“Controlled chaos,” Nicole said as she leaned against the counter and looked around.

Jesse nodded, not sure what to say. So far her sister hadn't talked very much. She seemed to be staying out of the setup. Was that because she was giving Jesse a chance to prove herself or was this more about being pissed off? Jesse wasn't sure she wanted to know.

“We had our delivery this morning,” Jesse told her. “I did a preliminary check and everything seems to be here. You saw the shipping supplies. We have our first pickup this afternoon.”

Nicole frowned. “What are you talking about? What pickup?”

“For our orders.”

“How can we have orders?”

Jesse didn't understand the question. “I told you the Web site went up yesterday.”

“I know that, but we already have orders? Is that possible?”

Jesse laughed. “It's beyond possible. Come on. I'll show you.”

She led the way to the front of the restaurant to where D.C. had opened the boxes and was setting up the two laptops they'd already bought. Jesse walked over to her computer, sat down and typed in the Web address.

“The site went up yesterday. Normally it would take a while for people to find us, but with the publicity about the fire, we've had more activity than expected.”

The site loaded quickly, a clean, appealing page featuring enticing pictures of the brownies and the famous Keyes chocolate cake. She scrolled down to a small icon in the bottom corner, clicked on it, then typed in the user name and password. The page changed to columns of numbers.

“Here's the latest info on hits,” she said as she pointed. “We're getting—” She stopped and blinked. “That can't be right.”

“What?” Nicole peered over her shoulder. “What's wrong?”

“This says we're getting over a thousand hits an hour. That's not possible.”

“Sure it is,” Sid told her. “Didn't you watch the news last night?”

“I was too busy debugging the site. Were we on it?”

“Yeah. A great story about how Keyes Bakery had been in business for years and burned down unexpectedly. And how we're using technology to stay in business. You looked good, Nicole.”

Jesse stared at her sister who straightened, looking uncomfortable. “You were interviewed by the local news and didn't tell me?”

“They were covering the fire. I was in shock. I barely remember what I said.”

“You told them about going online and how you wanted to keep your employees working until you could rebuild,” Sid told her. “That there were many business models these days and you were going to take advantage of what the computer age offered.”

Jesse felt as if she'd been hit in the stomach. What was going on? Her sister could get all excited about what they were doing away from her while being difficult and uncooperative in person?

“It was a good story,” Sid repeated. “Maybe it got picked up by some other local stations. You know they're always looking to fill time, especially on the weekends. That could explain the hits.”

Something had to, Jesse thought. She clicked on the order page and gasped. “We have one hundred and twenty orders.”

Nicole stared at the screen. “That's not possible.”

“Apparently it is.” She scrolled through the list. “Mostly brownies, which is good. They're faster to make. There are a few cakes, though. We'll have to sort through the orders and figure out what we're baking first. Our overnight delivery pickup is at five-thirty. We've got to get as many of these orders out today as possible.” She looked at Nicole. “We're going to need more help.”

“I'll call Hawk. Maybe some of his players or their friends want a temporary job.”

Temporary meaning they would be replaced by full-time workers, or temporary meaning this wasn't going to last?

Jesse decided not to ask. She had enough going on without fighting with her sister right now. They had the illusion of getting along and she didn't want to disturb that.

“I'll get the inventory finished so we can get baking. We have orders to fill.”

The sisters went in different directions. As Jesse counted large bottles of vanilla and bins of walnuts, she found her mind straying toward Matt and what had happened a few days ago…after the fire. Except she didn't want to think about him, either. It was too confusing.

She glanced at the computer. The order count was increasing by the hour. Adrenaline kicked in. At last a crisis she could get behind.

 

M
ATT HOVERED AWKWARDLY
as Gabe climbed out of his car seat. His new BMW 5 Series had state-of-the-art safety, including curtain air bags. Still, he'd driven to the aquarium slowly and carefully, never once going over the speed limit. If this had been anywhere other than Seattle—the land of polite drivers—he would have been pushed off the road by passing cars.

“I'll get the door,” he told the boy and slammed it shut. “I was, ah, doing some research online. There's an area where you can touch a lot of stuff. Plants and animals.” He frowned. “I guess not animals. Marine life.” Starfish. He remembered that they would be able to touch starfish. Which were what? A kind of fish?

Gabe looked up at him as they came to a stop at a light. “Are we crossing the street?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You gotta hold my hand.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Matt took the small hand in his own. He felt oversized and inept. What had he been thinking, wanting to spend time alone with Gabe? He didn't know what he was doing. He hadn't even known which car seat to buy, let alone how to put the car seat into his car. His mom had helped with that.

The light changed and they crossed the street. When they arrived at the aquarium, Matt paid for their admission, collected a map and led the way inside.

“They have different talks all day long,” he said. “I thought maybe you'd like the octopus one.”

Gabe's eyes brightened. “Yeah. That's good.”

Matt pointed to the map. “What else interests you?”

Gabe glanced at the open paper, then back at Matt. The light faded from his eyes. “I can't read, Dad.”

Matt swore silently. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling like an ass. “Let's walk around and see what's fun.”

Gabe sighed heavily as he followed at his side.

It shouldn't be like this, Matt thought, more frustrated by the second. The was his
kid.
They should be able to spend a couple of hours together without bumping into each other on the curves.

Not knowing what else to do, Matt followed the signs to the Underwater Dome. They walked in through a tunnel that opened up into an area in the middle of a massive aquarium. They were surrounded by water and fish. Gabe pointed and ran over to the glass.

“Look! Look!”

He raced from side to side, unable to take it all in. Matt watched him and relaxed a little. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

They spent a long time in the Underwater Dome. At one point, Matt saw a couple of boys eyeing Gabe. They were older, bigger and each had a squirt gun in their hands. He strolled over, came up behind them and put a hand on their shoulders.

“Don't even think about it,” he told them.

They looked up, swallowed, then took off.

“Want some ice cream?” he asked his son.

Gabe nodded.

They got ice cream and soda, then went to the octopus talk. Gabe listened attentively for about fifteen minutes as he licked his cone and got ice cream all over himself, then he started squirming. Matt led him out and was about to ask where they should go next when Gabe stumbled, clutched his stomach and promptly vomited all over the cement floor.

A woman in an aquarium uniform stopped next to him. “Poor kid. Too much ice cream, huh? The bathroom is over there. I'll call for a cleanup.”

Gabe stood there, looking miserable. Matt didn't know what to do. He hadn't thrown up since a long night of drinking in college, but he remembered it wasn't fun.

“Come on,” he said and ushered the boy into the bathroom. “You done?” he asked. “You need to throw up again?”

Gabe shook his head. Matt grabbed paper towels, dampened them and began wiping Gabe's face. He didn't know what to say. The ice cream had been kind of large. Matt hadn't finished his, but Gabe had gotten the whole thing down…except the part that had melted on him. And the soda. That had been a mistake.

Who bought a four-year-old a large ice cream and soda? An idiot, that's who. He was beyond stupid. There was no way in hell he should be allowed out with his son on his own. This time he'd gotten him sick. Next time it could be worse.

Frustrated and angry, he scrubbed the kid's arms, then his hands. Gabe's shirt and shorts were clean, but his shoes weren't, so Matt wiped them as well.

He continued to berate himself, knowing that his plan to suck Jesse in, destroy her and take the kid had a massive flaw. While he wanted his former lover taken down, he had nothing against Gabe. Putting the child in mortal danger by hanging out with him was wrong. He had to—

A small sob caught his attention. He looked at Gabe and realized big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

Matt dropped the paper towel and grabbed him by his upper arms. “What's wrong? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital? Tell me. What is it?”

Gabe cried harder. Matt crouched down in front of him, feeling helpless.

“You gotta tell me, buddy,” he said. “I can fix it, whatever it is. Your stomach? Does it hurt?”

Gabe shook his head.

Okay, not that. “Your head? Your back?” What else could hurt on a four-year-old?

“You're m-mad at me,” Gabe sobbed.

“What?” Mad at him? “No. Why would you think that?”

“You're h-hurting me.” He pointed to a red spot on his arm where Matt had scrubbed a little too hard. “You l-look mad and you w-won't talk to me.” There were more tears and a couple of heartbreaking sobs.

Matt felt like shit. Total and complete shit. He'd been so busy beating himself up, he hadn't paid any attention to Gabe. Yet another way he was a danger to his son.

“I'm not mad,” he said, wishing Jesse was here and could take over. But she wasn't. He was on his own. He knelt on the cement bathroom floor and wiped Gabe's cheeks with his fingers. “I'm not mad at you.” He deliberately made his voice calm and friendly. “I'm kinda mad at myself.”

That got Gabe's attention. The boy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“You got sick because I bought you a big ice cream. I wanted to get you something you'd like, but I didn't think that you're still growing. I didn't know it would make you throw up. The soda didn't help, either. I felt bad and then I got mad at myself.”

“You're not mad at me?”

“No. I'm having a good time with you.”

Gabe smiled through his tears. “Me, too,” he whispered, then threw himself at Matt.

His body was small and thin. Matt could feel his bones. The weight leaning against him was unfamiliar, but right. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged the boy. Skinny arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel Gabe's heartbeat.

This was his son, he thought, understanding dawning for the first time. His child. He was responsible for him being alive.