“Good morning, shortcake,” I say, walking into Wake and Bake on a Friday morning. I just got off a conference call that lasted over two hours, and I’m ready to see my girl. As if I hadn’t spent my morning between her thighs, eating her out at the breakfast table as she attempted to eat her Cheerios.
I’ve spent every morning with my mouth on some part of her for the past week. It’s been a week since our date—and our little adventure to get her brother and his girl together—and it’s been the most mundane, incredible week of my life.
I like mornings with her. I like watching her take her first sip of coffee every morning, watching her fuss with doing her hair to ultimately throw it up on the top of her head. I like walking or carpooling to work with her. Doing normal things together. We take our lunch break together whenever we can and return back to her place hand in hand every night.
It’s amazing. I love it. And I’d never imagined myself doing this every day for the rest of my life—especially in a small town I’d never heard of in Colorado—until her.
Pippa looks up at me, the light not reaching her eyes as she focuses on a piece of paper in her hand. “Isn’t it afternoon at this point?” she asks, her heart not really in it. Her focus is still on whatever she holds.
I shrug, closing the distance between us and pressing a kiss to her hair. “Well, good whatever it is, shortcake,” I correct. “What’s this?” I point to the piece of paper she won’t stop looking at.
She finally looks at me. “A letter we just got in the mail. It’s a warning that the rent might be raised here, by over a thousand a month.” She sounds stressed, and I hate it.
“May I?” I ask, gesturing to the paper. She hands it over, and I let my eyes scan over it. It’s from the same realty group that I bought my space from. I thought they’d just owned that space, but apparently, it is more than just what I purchased.
“I thought you owned the space?” I ask, my eyes still tracking over the letter. I don’t know who this realty group is, but they’re saying the strip is at risk of being sold to a new, interested third-party buyer.
“No, I wish. I rent it. I’d own it if someone let me, but I’ve never been able to.”
“I can look into it for you,” I offer. There’s no reason her rent should go up by a grand each month. There’s no reason she shouldn’t just own the place to begin with if she wants.
“You don’t have to do that,” she argues, her voice exhausted. She presses her palms to her forehead, sucking in a long, shaky breath.
“I want to.”
She lets the breath out slowly. “It’s just not me, you know? It’s everyone on the block. We’ll all be put in jeopardy because someone from out of town who knows nothing about Sutten is coming in and getting greedy. Maybe I need to speak with the Livingstons.”
I ignore the jab at her opinions on people from out of town, even though at one point, that’s exactly what I did. “Who are they?” I ask, not wanting to approach the first part of her sentence.
“They’re one of the oldest families in Sutten. I think I might remember that their great-great, maybe even a few more, great-grandfather was one of the founding fathers of this town. They own a lot of the real estate here. A lot of the residential land is theirs, but I know they own commercial properties, too. I’ve just somehow got the shit end of the stick and rented on the one block of town somehow not owned by them.”
“We’ll fix it,” I promise, cupping her face in my hands. My thumbs brush along her cheeks as I try to think of a way to comfort her.
“Hopefully.” She sighs, turning her head to press a kiss to one of my palms. “Anyway. How was your morning?”
“Well, I was actually coming here to ask you something.”
“You didn’t show up just to be around my amazing personality?”
I shake my head. “That’s a given. I came here to ask if you’ve ever been to New York.”
Her eyes narrow on me. I don’t let go of her cheeks, loving feeling her skin pressed against my fingertips. “I haven’t. Why?”
“Would you want to come to Manhattan with me?” My heart races underneath my sweater. It’s gotten colder here in Sutten. The temperature seemed to really drop over the last week, proving that summer has drifted away and fall is creeping in.
“When?”
“Right now.” I want her to say yes so bad. I want to take her to the place I grew up, to the only city I’ve ever really called home. I imagined having her in my space, showing her my gallery—my own personal art studio. It’s easy to imagine us on a double date with Beck and Margo. Hell, I can even see her getting along with Emma, even though that thought terrifies me.
“Yeah, let me just snap my fingers and end up in New York with you,” she answers sarcastically.
“Well, it wouldn’t be that easy. But I have a jet waiting at the small airport not too far from here. There’s a gala tomorrow night. I’d love to bring you as my date.”
“Me? Your date?”
“I’m sure as hell not bringing anyone else.”
This makes her smile. Her teeth dig into her lip as she shakes her head at me. “I can’t go to New York with you, Camden. I have nothing to wear. I can’t leave Wake and Bake for the weekend. And I have no one to watch Kitty.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred options until you find something perfect for tomorrow. Your employees are amazing and can handle things themselves here. And I’ve already spoken with Marigold. She and your brother will watch Kitty.”
Her eyes turn to slits. “I thought you and Mare hated one another.”
“She’s pretty cool now that she isn’t interrogating me like she’s in the FBI. She even said she and Cade could stop by tomorrow to make sure everything is running smoothly here. Come to New York with me, shortcake. Let me show you my world.”
“What if I don’t fit in?” she asks nervously.
“Is that what this is about?” I press a kiss to her lips, just now remembering I hadn’t kissed her when I first walked in.
She shrugs, looking up at the ceiling as if she doesn’t want to admit it.
“Shortcake, you shine brighter than any other person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to fit in because you outshine everyone else. It’s a remarkable thing.”
“If someone would’ve told me months ago that you say such sweet things, I would’ve told them they’ve lost their mind.”
A small laugh erupts from my chest.
She grabs the collar of my shirt, bringing my face down closer to hers. “No, really,” she continues. “Who knew this cold, ruthless man isn’t all that cold at all.”
“I’m only like that because I’m with you. No one else gets this side of me.”
She smiles, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss against my lips. I try to deepen it, but she pulls away before I can.
“This idea is crazy,” she points out, her eyes scanning my face. “You don’t seem like the spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, yet here you are.”
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me, shortcake.”
“I think it’s the best.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Yeah, I do, too.”
I feather kisses along her cheeks, pulling her body fully against mine, trapping her arms between us. “So is that a yes?” I ask against her cheek before moving my lips to her forehead. I don’t stop peppering kisses along her face until she finally answers.
“Okay, I’ll do it!” she yells, trying to push me away. “Camden, you have to stop. What if a customer walks in?”
“There have been times they could’ve found us in far more compromising positions,” I point out.
She snakes her arms around my waist, sliding her cold hands into the waistband of my pants. “Did you hear me say I’d go?”
I smirk. “I did. But I’d like to hear you say it again.”
“I’ll go to New York with you.”
“Good.” I slap her ass just before Lexi walks out of the back room, carrying a large pan of pastries. “Time to go get packed.”
