Chapter 5
Chapter 5 - Irresistible.
Noelle sighed for the third time that day, staring at the stack of bills spread across the counter.
The electricity company had given her until the end of the day.
After that, the lights were getting shut off.
She rubbed her forehead and looked toward the bakery windows. Sunlight still came through the glass, but by tonight, the place could be dark. No ovens. No refrigerators. No display lights. Nothing.
And that wasn't even the worst of it.
The landlord had served her a quit notice three days ago after raising the rent to $4,000.
Pay it or leave.
She'd laughed when she'd first read the number because the alternative was crying, and she'd already done enough of that this week.
There wasn't $4,000 sitting in her account.
There wasn't even half of it.
Business had been slow for months, but lately, it had become painful. Some mornings, she baked anyway because watching the shelves sit empty felt worse than wasting ingredients. Today, she'd made six chocolate cakes, two trays of blueberry muffins, and a batch of cinnamon rolls.
Three customers had come in.
One had bought coffee.
The others had looked at the prices and left.
Noelle looked at the clock.
12:45 p.m.
She picked up her phone again, her hand finding her contact list. Her fingers hovered over her father's contact.
She stared at it. He could easily make this easier for her but he'd not for once called to check in her.
He'd called the bakery a dying establishment the day he took away her inheritance. Called her decision to keep it alive embarrassing.
And when she'd tried explaining that it was her mother's dream, he'd gone quiet for a moment before telling her she was becoming a disgrace to the Bennett name.
That hurt. She'd tried to figure out why her father hated what her mother treasured. He knew it meant the world to him and yet, he treated it like this.
Her thumb hovered over his name.
No.
She locked the screen.
She would just have to scrub floors at night and bake until her hands peeled, she'd do it herself.
She would save Sweet Solace herself and prove him wrong.
Noelle gathered the bills into a crooked stack and pushed them aside.
Maybe she could run a half-price sale. Maybe that would bring people through the door. Or maybe it would make her look desperate.
She was still arguing with herself when the bell above the bakery door chimed.
Her head snapped up.
A customer.
Finally.
She straightened, wiped her palms against her apron, and pasted on her brightest smile.
"Welcome to Sweet Solace, how can I—"
The words died.
A familiar figure stood in the doorway and he stole her breath away.
Tailored charcoal suit. Dark-brown hair perfectly in place. Those striking eyes already fixed on her.
Reid.
Her high-level escort.
The man she'd tried very hard not to think about while she saved enough to require his services again.
He looked entirely too expensive for a bakery that smelled faintly of yesterday's burnt sugar and freshly ground coffee.
Memories rushed back anyway.
His hands.
His voice.
The way he'd looked deep into her eyes as he made her orgasm.
Heat climbed up her neck.
She tightened her thighs beneath the counter and hated herself for it.
Of all the people who could walk through that door today.
Reid's mouth curved.
Noelle recovered first.
She gave him a tight smile and tilted her head.
"Do escorts usually stalk their one-night stands, or did you just miss my tips?"
His smile widened.
"I strictly serve satisfied repeat customers."
His eyes moved over her.
Golden-blonde hair twisted into a messy bun. Flour dusted across one cheek. A plain T-shirt beneath her apron. Nothing remotely close to the woman he'd seen at the lounge.
"You left a note," he added. "I took it as an invitation."
Noelle let out a soft laugh and reached for a clean cup.
"I was satisfied. Very." She poured coffee into it. "But I can't afford your services as frequently as I'd like." She set the cup in front of him. "Sit. Coffee's on the house."
His eyebrow lifted.
"And don't get used to it."
She turned, cut a generous slice of her signature chocolate cake, and placed it on a plate.
Reid took the stool at the counter.
He was close enough that she caught the faint scent of his cologne beneath the bakery air.
When she set the cake down, he leaned toward it and inhaled. His shoulders loosened.
Noelle noticed. Her brow furrowed.
That was strange.
He took a sip of coffee and looked at her over the rim. "What am I supposed to do now?"
She frowned.
"About what?"
"I took you at your word the other night." He sounded genuinely offended. "I left the job," he lied.
Noelle blinked. "What?"
"I assumed you wanted a permanent arrangement. No sharing. Remember?"
Her mouth fell open slightly.
Oh.
Her drunken promises.
Of course.
She'd said something stupid.
Probably several stupid things.
Her eyes moved over his charcoal suit, the expensive watch, the polished shoes.
Guilt pricked beneath her skin.
This man clearly wasn't desperate for money.
"You don't look like a man who needs tips to survive," she said carefully.
"I don't."
"Good."
She reached for a cloth and wiped a spot of flour from the counter.
"Then you'll figure something out."
His jaw tightened.
Noelle looked at him. "Finish your cake, Seven. Then go find someone who can afford the lifestyle you're used to."
She turned toward the little back office.
She needed an hour away from him.
Away from the bills.
Away from the landlord's notice.
Away from the electricity company's final warning sitting inside her bag.
She needed air.
Maybe she could hand out flyers around the neighborhood. Maybe someone would order a birthday cake. Maybe one of the offices nearby would let her leave menus in their break room.
Anything.
She stepped into the office and shut the door.
Her fingers went to the knot of her apron.
She pulled it loose and hung it over the back of the chair.
Her T-shirt was sticking to her back from the heat of the ovens. She grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head.
She was halfway through reaching for a clean shirt when the door opened behind her.
Noelle froze.
She yanked the shirt the rest of the way off and spun.
Reid stood in the doorway, eyes dark, gaze moving slowly down her bare skin and the simple white bra she hadn’t expected anyone to see.
Noelle’s mouth opened.
Before she could form a sentence his hands were cupping her face, tilting it up, and his mouth was crushing down on hers.