Page 93 of Delicious (Delicious #1)
Chapter Four
Jace
B ramble & Honey was a gorgeous little restaurant on the high street, with a yellow front and blue lettering, that oozed cosiness from the moment you stepped through the door. The walls were a soft primrose with flowers and plants painted onto them, along with prints and shelves full of jars and dried flowers. The tables had blue and yellow checked tablecloths with little vases of daffodils resting in the middle, and white chairs tucked in underneath.
Since it had been pouring with rain, Riley had told me to meet him inside, and as soon as I opened it, the warm scents of tea and breakfast wrapped around me like a hug. I put my umbrella down and looked around to see if I could see him, but it seemed like I was here first. As it was barely after nine, there was hardly anyone else here but Riley had booked because apparently it got busy very fast, and I could see why. The whole place was charm personified.
“Good morning,” said a gentle, polite voice, belonging to a man in a blue shirt with a waistcoat over the top, his dark hair pulled back into a neat, plaited bun. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, yeah, my friend booked us a table but I don’t think he’s here yet.”
There was the sound of a bell and a blast of cool air as the door opened behind me, and I turned to see Riley pushing back the hood of his coat and pulling off a black beanie. “Morning,” he said as he shook out his hair and ran his fingers through it, pushing it back off his face. His smile was warm and softened the harsher lines of his broad face. Not that they needed softening. He always looked gorgeous to me. “You managed to avoid getting soaked then?”
“Just about,” I said, returning his smile as butterflies fluttered inside my chest, like they were trying to whip up a wind to match the torrential spring rain. “I remembered my umbrella at least.”
Riley nodded and looked at the man in the waistcoat. “Morning Scott, I booked a table for breakfast.”
“I wondered if it was you,” Scott said as he gathered up some menus and smiled at us. “If you want to pop your umbrella in the stand, I’ll take you to your table.” He gestured at the umbrella stand by the door, which I noticed was painted with little ducks holding umbrellas and wearing yellow wellies. It was so fucking adorable I almost wanted to take a picture.
I slotted my umbrella into it and followed Scott and Riley to a little table by the wall, sliding myself onto the wooden chair and giving myself a second to look around as Scott put menus down in front of us and pointed to a chalk board on the wall which had a couple of specials written across it in neat script. The bell rang again as the door opened and another group of people entered with more behind them, so Scott bustled off leaving the two of us alone.
“This place is gorgeous,” I said. “I’ve been past a few times but I’ve never been in. Mostly because it’s closed whenever I walk past.”
Riley chuckled softly, the sound reminding me of thunder rumbling in the distance. “I don’t think many places around here open at four in the morning.”
“Sadly not, although I suppose it saves me a lot of money. If there was a coffee shop open at that time, I’d be in there every day.”
“Are you always up early?”
“Pretty much,” I said, pulling at my lip. “My insomnia means I struggle falling and staying asleep. Sometimes I’ll only sleep for two or three hours at a time, sometimes it’s more. The best days are when I manage something like five. Six is a fucking miracle and usually only happens when I’m really ill. Usually, I’ll end up napping in the afternoon, which I know I shouldn’t do but sometimes I can’t help it. Luckily my job is pretty flexible so nobody notices if I disappear for a few hours to sleep.”
“That sounds rough,” Riley said, pursing his lips together and nodding, and I was glad there were no comments of the “have you tried…” variety. I knew people thought they were trying to be helpful, but sometimes it was like they thought I was an idiot or just wasn’t trying hard enough. As if I could suddenly fix my chronic medical issue with the power of positive thinking. “What do you do for work?”
“I translate romance novels into German, and occasionally French. My dad worked for a German company as an engineer, so we lived there for a long time and I went to German schools until I was sixteen, and my mum is French, so I grew up speaking both languages alongside English. And I always liked reading. I kind of fell into translating by accident about ten years ago, but I love it. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
I looked at him, watching for a reaction. Waiting for the almost inevitable laughter or dismissal of the genre I loved and poured my heart into every time I opened my laptop, waiting for the disdain or comments of “isn’t that just porn for women?”. I desperately wanted Riley to be different from all the others, but common experience had taught me that even the nicest looking men could be misogynistic, derisive pricks.
“That’s awesome,” Riley said, as a smile broke out across his face. It was warm and genuine, and there was a sparkling light in his eyes that I’d rarely seen before. “I don’t read much, and my language skills are whatever the fuck I can dredge up from high school—like asking where the swimming pool is or some shit—so the fact you can take a whole book and translate it? That’s really fucking cool!”
“Thanks,” I said, unsure if the heat in my face was embarrassment or just the warmth of the room. “What about you? How did you get in to making bread? Lifelong dream?”
“Nope, total fucking accident,” he said. “I saw a video on TikTok of someone making bread and thought it looked fun, and I was bored out of my skull at this bar job I was working, so I gave it a go on my day off and that was it. Soon as I started kneading the dough, I knew I had to see where this went. I mean, that first loaf was kind of shit in all honesty but it didn’t matter, because all I could think of was that I needed to do it again. So I did. And then it kind of became an obsession.”
He chuckled fondly and shook his head. “Got to the point where I was making more bread than I knew what to do with and giving it away, because I didn’t want to eat it, I just wanted to perfect it. I think all my neighbours loved it because I’d turn up at their front door with whatever I’d made and ask if they wanted it. Then someone said I should start selling it, and it all went from there. Started with a market stall and then opened Toasty last year.”
“I love that though. You found something you’re passionate about and turned it into something amazing.”
“Not sure if it’s passion or obsession at this point,” he said. “Might be a bit of both.”
“Either way, it’s awesome.”
We smiled at each other, and when Scott reappeared a moment later, we both realised we hadn’t even looked at the menu. I ordered a pot of breakfast tea, and Riley a gingerbread latte, and Scott promised to come back in a minute.
“Anything you’d recommend?” I asked as I read, already torn between at least three different options.
“The Bramble Breakfast is really good,” Riley said. “So are the pancakes and French toast if you like sweet things. And their smashed avocado with feta and egg is lush.”
“Do you provide the sourdough they use?”
He shook his head. “No, we’re not really a big enough operation. It might be something we look at in the future, but for now it’s just the shop.”
“I guess you’d need a bigger kitchen?”
“Yeah, ours is good enough for now but I’d need to find something bigger if we wanted to do more.”
“And then how would I come and watch you through the window?” I asked with a wry smile. “I’m sure you’d miss having some weirdo appear outside in the dark with a paper sign.”
His laugh made more butterflies burst into life in my chest, and I wondered if I could somehow bottle this feeling for later when I was tired and alone and staring into the darkness. “I’m not gonna lie, it was a bit creepy.”
“Oh God.” I put my hand over my face. “I knew it. I didn’t mean to stare the first time but I’d never walked past you before and the light was on…” And I saw you standing there looking hotter than anyone I’d ever seen in my life .
“Are you like a moth then? Attracted to the light?” he asked, his lip curling into a smirk that made my stomach twist.
“Sure, let’s go with that.”
“Did something else catch your attention then?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Probably the croissants.”
“Just the croissants?”
“Maybe the man making them too. He is really good looking.”
“Is he? Might have to fire him then, can’t have hot people in my kitchen. It’s not fair on customers.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Don’t do that, otherwise I’d have to find somewhere else to get breakfast from. My wallet might thank you, but my stomach wouldn’t.”
“Guess he’ll have to stay then.”
“Good.” Our eyes met and we both smiled, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so much profound joy.
After our breakfast date, where Riley and I spent three hours in Bramble & Honey talking over the most incredible spread of food, he walked me back to my flat in the rain, refusing to share my umbrella even though it was pissing it down. I’d been so tempted to kiss him, but I’d chickened out at the last minute. And trying to stop my umbrella from blowing away in the rising wind hadn’t helped the situation either.
We’d kept messaging though, and it was nice to have someone to chat to who often kept similar hours. When I was awake at three, curled up on my armchair under a mountain of blankets, the whole world seemed less lonely knowing that not far away, Riley was up and making croissants.
He’d send me pictures of what he was making, and I’d try and stay awake long enough to pop down when Toasty opened to get whatever he recommended. Sometimes he’d take his break then too and we’d find somewhere to sit for half an hour, eating fresh croissants and talking about whatever came to mind. I’d talk about the book I was translating, Riley would talk about the bread he’d been making or something he wanted to try, or we’d find shared interests and go back and forth until he had to go back.
And with every message and every conversation, I felt myself falling for him.
One morning, about twelve days after our breakfast date, I found myself going for another walk at four having slept particularly badly. I was tired and feeling sour, so I hadn’t really paid much attention to what it was like outside, beyond slinging a jacket around my shoulders. But by the time I was halfway to Toasty, the sky had opened and rain had begun to fall.
It was the kind of soft rain that soaked through every piece of clothing you owned, and within five minutes I felt like I’d jumped into a swimming pool. I should have probably gone home, but I was too close to Toasty and could see the warm lights of the kitchen window through the gloom.
I knew Riley would be working and I didn’t really have anything in mind except waving at him before going home and diving into a hot bath. But I wanted to see him, even if it was only for thirty seconds through the window.
Riley didn’t notice me at first because he was carefully rolling pain au chocolat and placing them on a tray, and I was fascinated at how gentle his large hands were. I wondered what they’d feel like cradling my face… touching my body… making me?—
He looked up and startled as he caught sight of me, concern writing itself across his face as he took in all the details of my sodden form. He tried to mouth something that looked like “what the hell?” as he wiped his hands on his apron and walked towards the front of the shop, grabbing something off the wall as he went.
“What the hell are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked as he stuck his head out of the shop door. “It’s fucking pissing it down out here.”
“It wasn’t when I left home,” I said with a laugh, because it was all I could do. “I think I’m a bit wet.”
“Yeah, just a bit.” He stepped back slightly. “Get in here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m bloody sure. Get your butt in here.”
He was still half in the doorway, the glow of the kitchen framing him and the warm smell of dough enveloping him. He smiled down at me and put his hand out to brush hair out of my face, where it was plastered to my skin. “Good morning,” he said softly.
“Morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said, fingers caressing my jaw and sending heat rippling through me. I leant into his touch and tilted my head, brushing my lips against his in a soft kiss.
“That’s a good way to start,” he added with a grin as he pulled me in for another kiss as the rain fell in the darkness behind us.