Exploding: A Mafia Romance (The O'Keefe Family Collection #1) Page 2

  Hattie nodded with a barely lucid smile. “Thanks, Fallyn. I’ll need a box of muffins, too. I screwed up a deposition yesterday, so I’m in the doghouse.”

  “Coming right up.” Fallyn had only just finished her night of laborious baking, so the muffins were fresh and ready to fly off the shelves. She pulled an assortment and placed them in the lavender boxes with her store’s name printed on the top. Every time she saw the Sweet Somethings logo in the oval with teal and brown script, she did a mini-swoon.

  While she was ringing up Hattie, seven more customers came in, each ordering her signature muffins. She heaved a sigh of relief when Jen called to her from the backroom, “I’m here, Fal. I’m here. Hit some traffic on the way in.”

  Jen was always “hitting traffic” even when the roads were clear. She was perpetually ten minutes late for everything, and Fallyn wouldn’t have her any other way. “It’s fine, Jen. Can you bring out more muffins?”

  “Sure thing, Bossypanties.”

  Her first seven customers each bought a dozen muffins with their coffees, depleting what Fallyn was certain would get her through the first hour of the morning rush. “Will that be all, or would you like to place an order for one of our custom cakes?” Fallyn asked the man with a cell phone glued to his ear.

  He pointed to the muffins and mouthed “three dozen”, all while “yes, sir”ing into his phone.

  Fallyn filled the order as Jen came out to the storefront. She wore beat up gym shoes, jeans that were mostly clean and a t-shirt from her favorite indie band under her Sweet Somethings lavender apron. She marched up to the cash register and held out her hand expectantly to the customer. “Give it,” she demanded. “Give me the phone.”

  The man furrowed his brow at her and gave her a playful scoff, taking her passive scolding with grace and ending his call. “Sorry about that. Three dozen muffins, your box of coffee for the office and an éclair should do it.”

  “I wasn’t kidding. Give me your phone.” Jen kept her hand extended, and when the man chuckled at her, she snatched it from his lax grip. “You can have it back after you sing Fallyn a song.”

  “Huh?” He backed away, pink creeping into his fair-skinned cheeks. He was twenty-something, as most of the morning customers were. It was the assistant crowd, who were in charge of keeping their bosses organized, answering phones, and making most of the coffee runs for the business district in the center of Fairfield. “I won’t talk on my phone next time.”

  Jen jerked her thumb to her best friend, her red curly hair bouncing as she spoke with fire in her veins at having to wake up before noon. “Fallyn made you these muffins. Stayed up all night doing it. I think she’d like to hear a song.” Jen called to the line that was now out the door. “Who else wants to hear this guy sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot’?”

  Hands raised like the whole line was doing the wave at a baseball game, the customers livening at the impromptu show. Everyone stared at the tall, lanky man as he shrank before their eyes. “Seriously?” he asked Fallyn with a whine.

  Fallyn covered her laugh with her hand as she nodded. “I wouldn’t cross Jen on this. She’s in charge of who takes home the muffins.”

  The man indulged the store’s occupants with a rousing rendition of “I’m a Little Teapot”, complete with hand motions. When he finished, he gave the cheering room a low bow, taking in the catcalls and hollers with an appreciative nod.

  Jen gave the man back his cell phone, and Fallyn threw in a free pastry with the man’s order. “Free pastry for anyone who sings to me this morning!” she announced with a lively smile. “I’ve been baking all night, and I need the boost.”

  The customers left the store grinning, carrying more baked goods than they’d set out to purchase. “We’re running low on muffins again,” Jen called over her shoulder to Fallyn, who was filling an order while Jen was at the register.

  “On it!” Fallyn sang, clicking to the backroom in her high heels, her powder blue dress swooshing at her knees. She threw together an econo-sized batch of blueberry lemon muffins and popped them in the oven.

  When Fallyn came back to the front to help, she found a man in a nice dress shirt, suspenders and solid green silk tie behind the counter, pouring a cup of coffee for a patron in line. He had brown hair with the hint of a curl to the tips and a wide smile at being behind the counter instead of in the long line that stretched out the door.

  “You’re a little overdressed to work in a bakery,” Fallyn scolded the stranger with a congenial tease.

  “Your girl here told me to make myself useful when I tried to cut in line.” He jerked his dimpled chin to Jen, who waved him off as she tended to the next customer in line.

  “Try cutting in my line again, and see what I won’t make you do. I’ve got a mop, and it gives me no shortage of joy to see a nicely dressed man mopping the floors for me.” Jen gazed up at the ceiling, as if daydreaming. “Oh, please cut in line again. You can mop while Fallyn and I take a nap in the backroom.”

  He motioned to his sleeves that were rolled artfully to his elbows. “You’re really enjoying this. Do you think one of your aprons would suit me?” he inquired, revealing a dashing smile. He looked to be in his late thirties, and a few paygrades above barista work.

  Fallyn took a look at the long line that kept growing. She knew she needed to be in the kitchen replenishing the muffin supply, but was intrigued by the mischief happening behind the counter. “Looks like you got yourself a job.” In one clean move, Fallyn untwisted the knot on her apron and flipped the loop over her head, reaching on her toes to slide the apron bib over her new hire’s head. “I’m Fallyn, your new boss, apparently. I’ll see to finding you that mop when the line dies down.”

  His eyes were wide at being dressed in the apron. He didn’t even stop Fallyn reaching around his waist to tie the lavender uniform in place. “Um, I’m James, your new barista-slash-mop man.”

  Fallyn caught a whiff of his spicy cologne as she tightened the knot around his toned stomach. “Nice to meet you, employee of the month. Can you pour coffee?”

  His eyebrows peaked. “Oh, you’re serious? I can’t work here for real. I was just trying to get some coffee, pay my penance for a couple minutes, and be on my way. I have to get to work.”

  Fallyn spun James around to face the line of people, her fist in the air like a protester. “James here wanted to cut in line to get his coffee before all of you. I say we make him wait on each and every one of you to pay for his crime. What do you say?”

  The customers responded with a vindicated, “yeah!”

  Fallyn felt no qualms at trapping the man to put on a show for the customers. Her pink lips were endearing, as was her playful nature, so James paused his schedule to indulge in a little levity. He chuckled at the pretty girl’s antics. “Alright, but only for a few minutes. I really do have a job to get to.”

  “I think what you mean is, ‘Fallyn, thanks for giving me this opportunity to serve these wonderful people.’” Fallyn reached up and touched his nose as if he was a child, sniggering when he rubbed his nose with a confused smile.

  “I think I was five the last time someone did that.”

  “Well, you can’t say that anymore now, can you? I only treat grown men like five-year-olds when they can’t remember how to wait in line like proper adults.”

  “You’re really scolding me. Actually scolding me,” he marveled, accessing a good-natured grin that hadn’t been used in ages. “Alright. Lesson learned.”

  She looked up into his eyes with a more imploring demeanor as she lowered her voice. “Seriously, just give me a few minutes to get a head start on throwing in a few more batches of muffins. You can leave in five.”

  “Oh, can I?” James challenged her, using his height to tower over her much shorter frame. He was tall, muscular, and Fallyn thought he looked like he was built to model the clothes he was wearing – except perhaps for the apron. “You’ll let me leave in five?”

  “Please?” she begged
with her big blue eyes, her lashes framing the innocent plea with too much beauty for even the new mop man to ignore.

  James softened, unable to look away from her heart-shaped face and peach complexion that was turning slightly rosy under his penetrating stare. “Unfair. You’re weaponizing those doe eyes of yours.” Fallyn blushed as James turned to the next person in line. “Who needs coffee?”

  3

  Kitchen Encounters

  Fallyn threw together batch after batch of muffins, making a mental note to hire a second baker at the next available moment. Her dress had yet more splotches of flour decorating the fabric, making it almost look tie-dyed. She was a whirlwind as she whipped around the stainless steel bedecked room, knowing she had to make the most of the five minutes the stranger was allowing her.

  She finished the last details of the wedding cake and wheeled the masterpiece into the walk-in fridge. There was batter enough for a few dozen more muffins, but Fallyn couldn’t locate the industrial-sized pan she knew was around somewhere. Finally she located the pan on a high shelf above the sink, guessing correctly that Danny had put it there. The shelf was just out of reach, so Fallyn kicked off her heels and hopped up on the steel counter, standing precariously as she slid out the pan that had been wedged between too many obstacles. “Doggonit!” she muttered as she tugged on the pan to no avail. With one determined tug, she ripped the pan from its hiding place, bringing the entire shelf’s contents down on her head. “Ah!”

  James and Jen darted to see the source of the commotion that could be heard from the front of the store. “Fallyn! What happened?” Jen exclaimed, running toward the pile of baking pans scattered about the floor.

  James brushed past Jen, thumbing Fallyn’s head where she was holding it as she swayed from her crouched perch on the counter. “Oh, that’s going to leave a bump. What hit you?”

  Fallyn gestured to the pile of pans on the ground. “Take your pick. It was an avalanche. I’m alright.”

  “How about next time you want to grab something off the shelf you can’t reach, you call me back here. I’ve got, like, seven inches on you. Come here.” He draped her dainty arm around his shoulders and slid his grip under her thighs, scooping her off the counter and gently lowering her legs so she could stand. He didn’t remove his hand from around her back, steadying her as she wobbled.

  Fallyn leaned against the strong body, acquainting herself with the firmness of James’s chest. She took a few steadying breaths, her fingers dancing like tiny ballerinas across her forehead. “Thanks. I’m alright.”

  She knew she was standing too close; she could feel her breasts lightly brushing the top of his tight abdomen. When his hand surprised them both and brushed against her cheek, she knew she wouldn’t be able to back away to a more respectable distance.

  James’ thumb rubbed a spot that made her close her eyes with a swoon. “Flour. You’ve got flour on your face.”

  Fallyn’s cheeks heated with chagrin. “Of course I do.” She knew it would just figure she would make a fool of herself with a messy, clumsy moment witnessed by the sexiest man she’d seen in who knows how long. He probably didn’t even own a gun, which was one of her hard and fast rules in dating.

  Jen eyed the two, judging their body language to be uncharacteristically open. “Okay. I’m going back into the trenches. You want to make sure she’s okay, new guy?”

  “Sure.” James led Fallyn to the chair and small desk near the backdoor where the employees punched in, anchoring her unsteady gait with his hand on her elbow as he lowered her down to sit. “Can you tell me your name?”

  “Fallyn O’Keefe,” she replied, sighing heavily. It had been a long time since she’d sat down. “I’m really okay. Just a bump.”

  “Do you know your phone number?”

  Fallyn rattled off a string of digits and made to stand. When James settled her back in the chair, she protested. “I’m really okay. This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s my pride that suffers the biggest injury.”

  He tilted her chin toward the overhead light and examined her pupils. She could see his engaging eyes, the cleft in his freshly shaven chin, and the hint of a smirk that told her he knew exactly how handsome he was. “How’s your pride, then?”

  “Bruised. But that’s the worst of it. You can get on with your day. I know you didn’t have it in your calendar to take a shift at a bakery.”

  “Do you usually abduct customers and make them work for you?”

  “Jen usually only snags the cute ones who cut in line.”

  James barked out a laugh. The levity rippled through his abdomen, giving Fallyn a full view of just how good looking he was. “And here I thought I was going to ask a certain shopgirl out for coffee after she closes up tonight.”

  Fallyn stood to collect her bearings. “Here’s a tip on women from me to you: if we work at a coffee place, taking us out for coffee is going to get you a big, fat ‘I’m washing my hair tonight’, no matter how good you look in that apron. You’ll have to come up with a better offer than that if you want to take Jen out.” She smiled up at him, enjoying the guffaw he exhaled. Fallyn guessed he didn’t get much correction, due to his classically attractive features and hard body lurking beneath his sharp outfit. “But thanks for helping out there, really. I know you’ve got a real job to get to.”

  James cast around the kitchen that looked like a tornado had hit it. “I can give you another half hour. Would that help?”

  Fallyn nodded slowly, meeting his gaze with gratitude. “Really? That would be amazing. I’ll be hiring a second baker soon for sure. I didn’t realize the business would take off like it has. I guess I was a little unprepared.”

  James took her hand to steady her as she stepped into her heels, giving her another two inches and a lot more confidence. “You were expecting to fail?”

  Fallyn shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I guess I thought I’d struggle for a while, eat through my savings and eventually either sink or swim.”

  James brushed off a dusting of flour from her bicep. “First rule of business: prepare for success, and the numbers will follow.”

  Fallyn grinned, cursing the distance between them as she turned to take several pans out of the oven. “I’ll have to remember that. My first rule of business has been to find a way to get those ‘Aw, how sweet. Fallyn wants to open a bakery’ looks out of my family’s eyes.”

  James chuckled, admiring her hourglass figure when her back was turned to him as she checked the timer on the stove. “See, I didn’t get that when I branched off on my own. My parents were more ‘succeed’. End of sentence. Really no other option there.”

  “Your family sounds swell.”

  “Really? They’re not.” James swallowed, realizing he’d spoken about his family aloud – a thing he hadn’t done in years.

  She turned to speak softly to him. “Well, I hope you made something of yourself for you, not them.”

  James considered her words that cut deeper than he usually cared to venture. “Some days I think I did. Others, I’m not sure.”

  “How about today? For you or for them?”

  James shoved his hands in his pockets. “I woke up a little lost today, to tell you the truth. I got a promotion last week, but so far all that’s meant is half my workload’s been handed off to other people. Not sure what I’m doing anything for anymore.”

  “You got a promotion? Congratulations,” she cheered, doling out an extra helping of warmth in her smile. “That’s really fantastic. I hope you did something to celebrate.”

  James took a moment to ponder this. “They made an announcement at work, and I went to the bar afterwards, but it didn’t feel… I don’t know. I’ve been working toward this move my whole career. Now that it’s here? My friends are coworkers who were all vying for the same promotion. Now that I got it, things’ve shifted.”

  “Finding out who your true friends are?”

  “I think I already knew that.”

  Fallyn studie
d his emotional partial nudity with compassion. She could tell by the regret in his words and the sadness painting his tone that he wasn’t used to being unhappy, much less opening up about it. “I know I don’t know you, but if I did, I’d give you a hug right now. Could we pretend we’re old friends?”

  James met her gaze that held no ulterior motives and nodded, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. His life was cold and driven by accomplishment. “I… I don’t have much practice with hugging,” he admitted.

  Fallyn examined his face with a wry expression to see if he was joking. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” she teased, earning a chuckle.

  When Fallyn wrapped her dainty arms around his midsection, resting her head on his chest, he nearly lost himself in the mess of confusing sentiments that flooded up inside of him. At first he kept his hands out to the sides, not sure what to do with them. He’d had a one-night stand not two evenings ago and had known exactly what he was doing with his hands. That was easy. This was intimate, which he didn’t do as a general rule. It took a few beats, but eventually he melted under the heat of her sweetness, softening like caramel in her arms. He enveloped her in a gentle grip, unable to pinpoint how this made him feel naked, but having the brunette’s legs wrapped around his head while his clothes were in a pile on the floor hadn’t.

  “Tell me why you’re sad,” she urged, rubbing a circle into his lower back to soothe him. He had no gun stashed there. It had been a long time since she’d hugged a man who wasn’t carrying a concealed weapon.

  James wanted to brush off the sincerity with a penis joke, but found that he couldn’t be crass in her presence. Instead of opting for flight from the first heart-to-heart he’d had in forever, James dug deep to find a truthful answer. “Maybe it’s that every day before the promotion, I was fine because I knew my purpose. Now that I’ve reached my goal? There’s nothing more. Nothing to chase. It’s boring, and I hate boring.”