Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

K enya

"No, make that three dozen muffins, two dozen cupcakes, and at least six to eight crullers." I was checking my guest list for the next week several times. Between the coffee and water order that I still needed to make, the list was ongoing. And the wine order. That could wait until the morning, even though it would be a Saturday. At least with no guests this weekend, I could relax. Enjoy the hot tub. Take a walk. Drink way too many glasses of wine.

And read a book.

I couldn't remember the last time since I'd indulged myself. Not in my former life and certainly not since purchasing and remodeling the fabulous B & B in Maine. It was a dream come true, especially leaving the big city life.

As well as my big city job title and paycheck.

While I also owned a little house in the woods not too far away, this spectacular location was nestled against the Atlantic Ocean, the views magnificent and the setting peaceful. It was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

To think, my bitch of an ex best friend had mentioned the place was for sale. Had I known she'd had an ulterior motive, maybe I wouldn't have made an offer so quickly. Now it was all mine.

Well, mine and the bank's.

Cringing, I was hopeful the upcoming tourist season would bring in more clientele. If not, well, at least I could always sell the place. I rolled my eyes. Now that the real estate market had adjusted, I'd take a loss.

Going bankrupt wasn't so bad on one's record these days. Was it?

I felt a bead of perspiration trickling down one side of my face. If only I could get a good night's sleep. That would help my surly mood. Something had to.

Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands. There I went again. Suzy Naysayer, as my mother always called me.

Janie tapped her pen on her notepad, which I acknowledged somewhere in the back of my scattered mind yet didn't respond. She finally cleared her throat. "Earth to my best friend."

I snapped up my head, noticing her friendly but stilted glare. "I was doing it again. Wasn't I?" She'd become my best friend almost from the day I'd stumbled into her bakery with a growling stomach and a piss-poor attitude given the real estate agent had lied to me and hadn't seemed interested in showing me the place after I'd driven all the way from New York City.

Wine had appeared before four o'clock in the afternoon. A woman after my own heart.

"Yes, you were." She slid her pad onto the counter, moving toward the bottle of wine. "That's why I brought reinforcements."

"Wine?"

"Of course, darling. What else can bring you out of your doldrums? I'll have you know this is one of the finest merlots produced in Maine."

I had to admit the wine was looking damn good. I watched as she skillfully opened it. "How come you own a bakery instead of a restaurant? You're a trained chef and sommelier, for God's sake." She knew more about wines than anyone I'd ever met, and her knife skills were terrifying. The woman could be a serial killer if she desired to change professions.

Janie Crouch was one tough woman in addition to everything else. She'd been to every continent hiking in her twenties, determined to conquer the world.

Meanwhile, I'd just attempted to conquer Wall Street. As if I thought landing a job in the Big Apple was far enough removed from my brutal family. Fortunately, once dear old Daddy had learned I was soiled he'd been more content to leave me alone.

And lock down my trust fund.

Whatever. I didn't want blood money.

"I brought muffins and your favorite cupcake as a little treat," she mused, her tone far too freaking happy.

While I heard her, I was too busy worrying about life in general to respond.

"Jesus. Why are you so dead set on sabotaging yourself?" she asked in return.

"I'm not doing that!"

"Really?" She popped the cork before glaring at me. "Then why were you thinking that you could accept foreclosure?"

"I was not."

"I can see right through you," she said in a singsong voice before pouring two glasses far too full. But I was thrilled she had. Some of my best times were spent laughing and drinking with her. The simple pleasures. They gave me my greatest sense of peace.

Besides, at this point I could gulp down the entire volume of liquid in one minute flat.

"Since I also know that you were contemplating drowning your sorrows, here you go." She handed me a glass, leaning against the counter afterwards. "This place is going to make a fortune, girlfriend. The extra finesse and money you've put into it will be noticed."

"That's just it, I put a lot of money into something that barely had mediocre success."

"That's because it was the same tried and true everything, including food and linens. You've taken it up a couple notches. Take a deep breath then gulp the wine. My orders."

"Won't I choke?"

She rolled her eyes before grabbing her pen. "At least it's a decent order this week. That means you might be hopeful."

"It means I have a wedding party coming early next week, all the pain in the ass girls heading here to have girl time for a few days. You know what that means?"

Her laugh always made me laugh. "We were young once, unless you don't remember. So they'll giggle, talk about men's butts, and maybe watch some porn. All while feasting on chocolate in the hot tub."

"Sounds horrible."

"Says who?"

"Says me." I took a sip, marveling in the smoothness of the grapes, alongside the hints of both raspberry and blackberry with a dash of currants. Janie knew my preferred tastes.

"You need to get laid."

I spit out the entire amount in my mouth, barely missing her crisp white blouse. At least she had the common sense to jerk to the side, laughing not with me but at me.

As if I could blame her. I hadn't been called the gangly klutz in high school for nothing. At least I'd filled out to my five-foot eleven-inch height. Becoming marriage material, so my father had told me far too many times. God! Why was the bastard entering my mind today of all days.

Because he can erode your self-confidence. That's why.

Oh, groovy. Unacceptable.

She grabbed two kitchen towels, tossing me one. "I'm serious. You haven't let down your hair in I don't know how long."

"Oh, I can tell you when. Since my ex almost fiancé was found fucking my three-year assistant on top of my desk. That's when."

Her glare returned. "You're a glutton for punishment. Why not just claim yourself as a masochist and head to a BDSM club."

"Um, no. Hell, no."

"Well, you obviously like pain."

"Let's get back to ordering. This conversation is sinking rapidly."

"There's some truth. Anything else, Ms. Grouch?"

"How about a couple dozen assorted cookies. Make sure there's chocolate involved."

Her chuckle was deep and throaty. Everything about her was adorable and quite frankly irritating as hell. Maybe her five-foot two-inch frame and perfectly perky little nose had been the reasons she'd garnered the sexiest boyfriend turned dashing husband. No, definitely her perky tits. Now I was playing the green-eyed monster card. I'd sunk below low.

"Got it. I'll make them extra yummy. Would you like me to throw in some very special brownies?"

"How special are we talking?"

"You know, a little green stuff in them?" She winked and I almost choked on another sip.

"Marijuana? You wouldn't dare." I acted horrified but secretly would love to do something so wicked.

She shrugged in her cute way, gathering up her ordering pad. "I dunno. I'm a bad girl, which is what you need to be. Now, come on, let's go enjoy the wine before your guests arrive."

"Thank God they're not coming until Tuesday."

"What about this weekend? Don't you dare tell me you're locking yourself in your house, reading a random romance novel that will have you in tears and eating not one but two cartons of ice cream."

"Ouch. I'm not like that." Guilty as charged. Ever since I'd seen my two exes together, I'd been a basket case about romance and men. Fuck them all.

"Uh-huh," my bestie huffed, wagging her finger. "Tell me another lie."

I grabbed the bottle and headed for the back door of the kitchen. "Fine. I'm venturing out so to speak. I've decided to have the place all to myself. Some time in the hot tub. Maybe a little wine. Making a fabulously delicious yet sinfully full of calories pasta meal and sleeping late every single day."

"You bitch. You didn't invite me?"

The look on her face was priceless. "You're welcome to stay as long as you don't talk about boys, or I'll ask all kinds of private questions about your hunk of a man."

As I threw open the door, she gave me the kind of look that could seduce a group of moose. "He is pretty hot. Sadly, I can't make it this weekend. I was convinced to make a wedding cake at the last minute. Plus, my Danny boy has some pretty naughty plans late at night."

"Rub it in. Will you? And you certainly know how to have a good time."

"Girls always do. Tell me, what's your perfect man? With that big brain of yours, I'm going to guess you prefer one of those ultra conservative types who drive a Mercedes, make more money than God, and take out the yacht on the weekend. Am I right?"

We headed for one of several pairs of Adirondack chairs right in front of the ocean, easing down just as the sun began to set. "Then you don't know me very well at all, dear girl."

"Then do tell."

"I prefer bad boys. You know the kind. The ones with scruffy beards, and that look in their eyes like they could bite the head off bats and enjoy it. I want them as comfortable in faded but tight blue jeans and a muscle shirt as they are in a Gucci tuxedo. I don't want yachting, maybe a catamaran in the Bahamas. I want a Harley-driving, truck-wheelin' man with a rough voice like he's had one too many cigarettes, hair that's perpetually tousled, and completely dominating. A man who refuses to take no for an answer. All while being able to enjoy a nice glass of merlot and a section of brie cheese just prior to grilling a piece of filet to bloody rare. A killer marksman, unafraid of anything and anyone, a guy who makes danger and taking risks look delicious and sinful. And in bed, forget about it. I want a man willing to grab me around the throat, pin me against the wall, and fuck me like some primal beast. Yeah. That's what I want."

There was utter silence and I finally looked over at her.

"Careful. With your mouth open that way, you might catch flies."

She sputtered and took a sip of wine, fanning her face. "Okay, girl. Sign me up. I'm getting a divorce."

We both laughed, leaning back into the chairs.

Yeah, that was exactly what I wanted, not a pretty boy with perfect hair and a slick attitude. Now I just how to figure out where I could find one of those.