Page 22 of Break My Heart (The Haydon Falls #2)

‘Why? Does she have a boyfriend?’

‘Not that I know of, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not dating her. She’s the enemy. You don’t date the girl who comes into town and steals all your customers.’

‘If she’s stealing them, it means her beer is better and you need to step up your game.’

‘Oh, so now you’re saying my beer sucks?’

‘I’m saying people buy what they like, and if they like hers better, they’ll go to G’s.’

‘Maybe they like her waitstaff better. She’s got hot girls working for her. I’ve got two guys. Maybe I just need to hire some girls.’

‘I think you need to see what happens now that you’re both back to charging your regular prices. If she’s still getting more business, it might be your beer.’

‘You think it’s good, right?’

‘It’s good, but it’s not the best I’ve ever had. And I didn’t expect it to be. You’re just starting out. You’re still learning. I actually think it’s good that Gina opened up a brewery. It’ll force you to be better.’

‘Or put me out of business,’ I mutter.

Nick checks the time on his phone. ‘It’s getting late. I need to help set up in the barn before we open.’

‘I need to get to Gina’s,’ I say, noticing it’s almost eight.

‘Don’t be ruling her out just because she has that brewery. She could be the perfect girl for you.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think so,’ I say with a laugh as I grab the sack of pastries. ‘See ya, Nick.’

On the way to Gina’s apartment I think about what he said, about Gina being the girl for me.

I like her, and I like being around her.

Even when we’re arguing, I still like her, which is strange.

Usually after a few arguments with a girl I decide it’s too much work and end it.

But arguing with Gina sparks that competitive streak in me that energizes and excites me, and unfortunately, turns me on.

It’s becoming a real problem when I’m around her.

I catch myself staring at her, at her beautiful face, her gorgeous body.

She’s so damn hot. Last night she showed up in skin tight jeans that molded to her curves and had me so distracted I couldn’t think straight.

She wore this sweater that was loose but hung off her shoulder, drawing my attention to her neck and the top of her chest. I could imagine my lips going there, kissing her soft skin, my hand slipping under her sweater.

I wanted to kiss her so freaking bad that I finally just made an excuse to do it. I didn’t think she’d agree to it, so when she did, I was pleasantly surprised, but also disappointed because she seemed like she just wanted to get it over with. I was hoping she’d show at least a little enthusiasm.

Seeing her reaction, I decided to just forget it and try some other time, or just forget the whole thing.

But telling her that only made her want it more.

When she climbed on my lap and demanded a kiss, I nearly lost it.

It took all my self control to limit myself to just a kiss.

I wanted to tear her clothes off and have sex with her right there on the couch.

But instead I kissed her, slowly, with control, showing her how much I’d improved from seven-year-old Sawyer.

She responded by running her hands down my chest and grinding her hips into me.

She could feel how much I wanted her. She could’ve backed away at that point, but instead she reached down to undo my belt.

I couldn’t fucking believe what we were about to do, but I was all in.

I was so damn ready. And then Wade showed up and ruined it.

Later, when I tried to kiss her again, Gina stopped us. She said it would lead to the bedroom, and she was right. We both knew it. We’d lit a match, and if we didn’t blow it out, flames would ignite and the fire between us would be out of control.

I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d done it.

Would that have been it? Just one night of passion and we’d go back to being friends?

Or enemies? I’m not sure what we are, but after last night, I know being around her isn’t going to be easy.

Friends or enemies, there’s some serious heat between us. It’s impossible to ignore.

‘You made it,’ Gina says, greeting me at the door of her apartment wearing loose shorts and a baggy t-shirt.

It’s a big change from the tight clothes she normally wears.

Maybe after last night, she thought she should go for something that hides her curves to avoid any temptation.

Unfortunately, she still looks hot in the baggy clothes.

The shorts are really short, and the shirt is oversized with a wide neckline that’s practically falling off her shoulder.

‘You didn’t think I’d show up?’ I ask as she steps aside to let me in.

‘I wasn’t sure.’ She closes the door. ‘We had a late night. I didn’t know if you were one of those people who sleeps past their alarm.’

‘I was up at six and stopped at my parents’ house to get you these.’ I hand her the sack of pastries.

‘What is it?’ She opens the sack and smiles. ‘These look amazing! And I didn’t have any food so this is perfect.’ She walks to the kitchen and sets the sack on the counter.

‘The muffins are a new recipe Mom’s trying. Let me know if you like them so I can tell her.’

‘That was really nice of you to stop there before coming here.’

‘I can be nice sometimes.’

‘Just sometimes?’ She gives me a smile, the flirty kind that has me wondering if she’s reconsidering her decision to not do what we almost did last night.

She opens the fridge and takes out a pitcher of water.

‘I’d offer you coffee, but I don’t have any.

I don’t drink it unless I’m in desperate need of caffeine.

You want some water?’ She holds up the pitcher.

‘No, I’m good.’

I look around her apartment. It’s nice, but I like mine better.

Mine has more character with the exposed pipes and brick walls.

This is a newer building and the apartments here have plain white walls and ceilings.

The place used to be offices, but a few years ago they were converted to apartments.

I looked at one and considered living here, but then decided it’d be cheaper and more convenient to have my apartment above the brewery.

The only problem is it’s loud, which means I can’t sleep until after we close.

It hasn’t been an issue yet because I work until close, but if that ever changes I don’t know how I’d sleep with the noise.

‘You’ve got kind of a gypsy thing going on here,’ I say, noticing the mix of colors and patterns on her rugs, pillows, and drapes.

‘I think they call it Bohemian, at least that’s how Aria describes it. It’s really just a mix of stuff I found at thrift stores. I didn’t have much money to spend on decorating so I just bought whatever I could find that was cheap.’

‘It doesn’t really seem like your style.’

‘It’s not, but it’s good enough for now. I’m not here much so it doesn’t really matter.’

She moans and my attention quickly switches from her apartment to her. ‘God, these are so good.’ She’s sitting on the counter, eating one of my mom’s pastries, her eyes closed.

‘Fresh from the oven. They’re better when they’re fresh.’

She moans again as she takes another bite. She needs to stop that damn moaning. It’s making my cock hard, which is not supposed to happen. I’m here to fix stuff. That’s it. Nothing more.

I walk over to her kitchen table and see the leg that’s broken. I thought it was just a crack in the wood, but it’s actually broken in half. Gina’s got a box under the broken leg to keep the table from falling over.

‘I don’t know if I can fix that today.’

She looks at the table. ‘Why? I have the rest of the leg. Can’t you just glue them together or nail them or something?’

‘It won’t be strong enough. You need a whole new leg. The hardware store has some, but I don’t know if they’ll be the right size. They may have to order it.’

She frowns. ‘That’s too bad. I was hoping it’d be fixed today.’

‘Why don’t you just get a new one?’ I jiggle the table, noticing how unstable it is, the remaining legs wobbling with just a little movement. And the top is all scratched and worn .

‘I just got that table.’

‘From where? The dumpster?’

She laughs. ‘Yeah, but it’s not that bad. It just needs a new leg.’

‘It needs to go back in the dumpster. Why don’t I just build you one?’

‘You can build a table?’ She jumps off the counter and pours herself more water.

‘I built them for the brewery. I have some leftover wood at my parents’ house. It wouldn’t take me long to build you one.’

She stares at me. ‘You built those tables? I was thinking you’d spent a fortune on them. They’re gorgeous.’

‘Thanks. I think they turned out okay. The wood’s from an old shed my dad tore down.’

‘How much would it cost?’

‘What?’

‘The table.’

‘You don’t have to pay me. I already have what I need. I don’t have to buy anything. And it’s part of the deal we made. I said I’d fix your table.’ I point to it. ‘This thing is beyond repair. I can’t fix it. I need to make you a new one.’

‘Sawyer, I would love that. And there’s no rush. Like I said, I’m not home much.’

‘I’ll try to get to it this week. Maybe I’ll make one for myself while I’m at it. Then maybe I’d have people over.’

‘I didn’t mind eating on the couch.’ She gives me that sexy smile again.

If she keeps this up, we’re going to end up where we were last night. And this time, I don’t think we’ll be stopping.