25. Sutton

25

SUTTON

Soft strains of old-school Garth Brooks filtered through the speakers as I gently squeezed the piping bag. It was a delicate balance I’d learned over the years. Not so hard that the frosting exploded in a mess onto the cupcakes, but with enough pressure to get the exact flow I needed for each design.

Today’s project was a combination of unicorns and rainbows for an eight-year-old girl’s birthday. I’d gone all out with the rainbows, using blue frosting for the base and decorating them with fluffy, white clouds that anchored a gummy rainbow candy. I knew the little girl’s mom would be thrilled with the end result.

I moved on to the next set of clouds, trying to focus on the music. Because if I didn’t think about the music, my mind filled with thoughts of Cope. How it had felt to wake in his arms the other morning. The firm pressure of him pressed against my ass. How I’d wanted to arch into him and?—

“Sutton?” Thea cut into my thirsty space out.

I pressed too hard on the piping bag and sent a glob of frosting flying .

Thea’s eyes went wide, and her hand covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I thought you heard me come in.”

I shook my head, grabbing a towel to clean up the mess. At least I hadn’t ruined the cupcake itself. “Not your fault. I was in la-la land apparently.” A la-la land where all I could think about was Cope’s hands and— nope, nope, nope. I could not go there.

Thea rounded the worktable so she faced me head-on. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to refocus on my decorating. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you moved in with a bossy hockey player a few weeks ago and haven’t shared one tidbit of info with me. Your best friend. And then he loses his friend, and you run off to Seattle to go to the funeral with him, and still no info for your bestest friend. And finally, I had to see all over sports and gossip blogs alike that you two looked extremely cozy leaving the church. And still, you haven’t said a word.”

I didn’t shoot frosting across the table this time. I dropped the bag altogether, the blood draining from my face. “There are pictures of us?”

I knew the photographers had been there, but I’d hoped they were taking shots of the players and that I would simply be in the background.

Thea’s brow furrowed as she pulled out her phone. “Lots of speculation on the two of you.”

My hand shook as I took the device from her. Copeland Colson Gets Cozy with Mystery Woman . There we were, front and center on the gossip blog. The text below touched on the fight between Marcus and Cope, even going so far as to question if it was about me.

“Why are these people so awful?” I muttered.

“Trust me, I’m not a fan of the paps or the vicious sites they feed. But I didn’t read anything too bad.”

Thea would understand better than most. She had a history with a famous actor who’d been far from golden. One who had almost ruined her life .

She moved around the table until she was at my side. “What’s going on?”

My throat burned. I couldn’t lie to her, not after everything she’d shared with me. But I couldn’t get myself to give her the whole truth either. “I just—I don’t want my photo getting out there. There are a few people I’d rather not know where I am.”

Thea stiffened beside me. “Luca’s dad?”

I nodded. “He’s one of them.”

“Did he hurt you? I swear to God, I will castrate him with a rusty spork if he?—”

“A spork, huh?” I asked, trying to inject some levity back into our conversation. But Thea didn’t take the bait.

“Sutton.”

“He didn’t hurt me. Not in the way you think.”

Thea didn’t look appeased. “I know there is more than one way to inflict pain.”

Unease settled in my gut. “He wasn’t abusive in any way. He’s an addict. Got hooked after an injury, and that disease ripped our whole world apart. He got mixed up with some bad people, and I needed to get Luca and me far away.”

There. I’d said it. It was the most I’d opened up in years.

Memories pressed against all the walls I’d carefully constructed in my mind. The blow to my ribs and the blinding pain that followed. The burn when my lip split. The worry that the men would do so much worse.

“Sutton,” Thea whispered, her hand covering mine.

“I’m okay,” I croaked. “I just don’t like going back there. Remembering. Luca and I got a fresh start when we came here, and I want to keep it that way.”

Thea’s fingers curled around my hand, squeezing. “Okay. Just tell me, does Cope know?”

I shook my head. “Why would he?”

“Maybe because you two have been attached at the hip for almost a month now, and he looks at you like you’re the sun, moon, and stars all wrapped into one. ”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “He does not.”

Thea sent me a droll look. “Girl, you know I love you, but I am not going to play idiot so you can pretend you two haven’t gotten thick as thieves.”

Thieves was probably the most accurate term Thea could’ve picked. Because Cope was a damn thief. Without me realizing it and without my permission, he’d stolen my heart.

“Sutton. I know he has his demons, but he’s a good man.”

“The best,” I choked out, trying to fight back tears.

“Hey, hey.” Thea pulled me into a hug. “What are the tears about?”

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

She pulled back. “Of Cope?”

I shook my head quickly. “Well, kind of. I’m not sure he’s in a place to be more than what we are.”

“Which is?”

“Friends?” I mumbled. “Best friends?”

“How dare he?” Thea said, lips twitching. “Trying to steal my best-friend status…”

I tried to smile, but my lips couldn’t quite get there. “I don’t know how to explain it. We lean on each other. Share things I don’t think either of us has let anyone else in on. But at the same time, we never tell each other the whole story.”

Thea frowned as she mulled over my words. “I get that. Shep and I had some of those moments.”

“That’s different,” I argued. “Shep was clear about his interest in you from day one. He was a man possessed.”

“If you don’t think Cope looks at you the same way, we may need to take you to get your eyesight checked.”

I shook my head. “He’s never even kissed me.”

Thea’s mouth flattened into a firm line. “Maybe he’s waiting for you to show him you’re ready.”

“I don’t think so. I know he’s attracted to me, but I’m not sure he’ll ever take that leap. And maybe that’s for the best.”

Thea released her hold on me. “You know what we need? ”

“Margaritas and a two-week Caribbean vacation?”

She chuckled. “Let’s look into that. But in the meantime, we need a girls’ night out.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but a new voice cut me off.

“Did someone say girls’ night?” Lolli singsonged. “I have been waiting for this. I just got some new cowboy boots that need to see a dance floor.”

Thea’s mouth stretched into a wide smile. “The country bar?”

Lolli did some sort of line-dancing move that ended in a twirl. “The cowboys are calling my name.”

“I’ve got a cowboy hat,” Walter called from behind the counter. “And I could come up with some creative things to do with that rope.”

I choked on a laugh, and my cheeks flamed.

“I’m not a woman to be tied down, Walter. I need to fly free,” Lolli said, her hands going to her hips and sending her endless stream of bracelets jangling.

He just grinned at her, making the lines in his face more pronounced. “I might not succeed, but we’ll have the time of our lives trying.”

Thea covered her laugh with a cough. “Throw the man a bone, Lolli. He’s been trying to win you over for years.”

Lolli lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m too wild for him.”

“I’ll show you wild,” Walter said with a little growl in his voice.

Oh, boy.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said, cutting through our ridiculous conversation.

Walter turned to face the middle-aged man at the counter. “Welcome to The Mix Up. What can I get for you?”

The poor man probably wished for one of those Men in Black mind eraser things after what he’d likely overheard.

“Is the owner or manager in?” he asked.

His voice had a professionalism that had me shifting into business-owner mode. I did a quick appraisal. He was likely in his forties, wearing khakis and a polo shirt, and holding a clipboard. I moved toward the counter. “Hello, I’m Sutton Holland. I own the bakery. How can I help you?”

The man gave me a curt nod, not cold in any way but efficient. “I’m Craig Leonard. I work for the Oregon Health Authority. There was an anonymous complaint about your establishment. I’m here to do a spot check.”

And with that, my world dropped out from under me. I was a stickler for cleanliness in my bakery, being one of those people who was over the top in my dislike of germs. But you never knew what an inspector might find that wasn’t exactly as the code required.

And if he fined me or paused me being able to serve? I’d never recover.