Page 15 of Hold Me Tight

His eyes narrow. “Did Callie put you up to this?”

“No, but she damn well deserves someone who actually gives a shit about her. Both of them do.”

Knox wedges himself between us before it can turn into a full-blown brawl. “Whoa. How about we cool things down,” he says, holding me back. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“Callie and Nora are my business, not yours,” Zane adds.

Adrenaline pounds through me as I shake off my teammate. I’m not even sure why I’m bothering with this guy.

He doesn’t get it.

And it’s doubtful he ever will.

He’s too focused on himself.

“Maybe if you took care of your business, I wouldn’t have to step in and do it for you.” Instead of waiting for a response, I grab my bag and stalk out of the locker room.

If Zane won’t step up for Callie, then I will.

There’s no way I can continue to stand by and watch her struggle.

The question isn’t if I’ll help.

It’s how.

7

Callie

The scent of vanilla, butter, and cinnamon from the batch of muffins cooling on the rack fills the bakery as sunlight spills across the counters.

Lilah leans her elbows on the table as one hand drifts to her barely-there baby bump. “Steele has been driving me insane. He keeps hovering like I’m made of glass.”

Rina snorts. “And yet you sound suspiciously smug about it.”

Lilah rolls her eyes as a smile lifts the corners of her lips. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sloane sips her coffee and teases, “But it’s not not what you meant either.”

The table bursts into laughter. These small moments with women who have become more like a family to me are part of what gets me through the tough times.

I can share anything with them.

Well, almost anything.

When the door opens, and a man walks in wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit with a wool coat draped over one arm like he just stepped off the pages of GQ, the conversation at our table grinds to a halt.

Rina’s jaw drops as she mutters, “Holy hotness.”

It takes a moment for recognition to slam into me.

The first thing I did after Evelyn mentioned that Beau Masterson might be interested in featuring my desserts at his restaurants was look him up online. Apparently, I’m one of the few people in the greater Chicago area who didn’t already know who he was.

The man dabbles in everything.

He’s a restaurateur.

An investor.