Page 3 of How Sweet It Is (Willow Shade Island #3)

A s I ring up another customer, my gaze slides to the cupcake Pretty Boy gave me, sitting beside the register. I feel bad that I can’t eat it. He was being nice to me when he gave it to me, but now each time he comes in, I feel worse and worse that it’s still sitting there.

I hand the box of lemon tarts to the woman standing at the counter. “Have a good day.”

The woman leaves, and it’s once again quiet in the bakery. I smooth down my blue pencil skirt, glad that I had the chance to go home and change. I look far more professional now.

I glance toward the doors to the kitchen to make sure Levi isn’t coming, then I pick up the cupcake. I have to do something with it so Levi doesn’t think I hate him. I walk to the trash can that sits behind the counter. Could I throw away a perfectly good cupcake?

I stare down at the small pile of tissues sitting at the bottom of the trash can.

They wouldn’t hide the cupcake. I could put a few more tissues on top, and then he wouldn’t ever see it.

As I’m contemplating how to get rid of the cupcake, the doors swing open, and I’m so startled I drop the cupcake into the trash.

Levi comes in with a tray of chocolate chip scones as I straighten up, my heart racing. He didn’t see me, right?

The scones smell delicious. Working in a bakery is going to kill me. Why in the world did I agree to come in today to help Pretty Boy? This is torture.

Levi’s gaze flicks over to the register. “So, two o’clock in the afternoon is finally the appropriate time to eat sugar?” He’s teasing but not in a biting way, which is a nice change.

“Eating vegetables before you eat something sweet is good for your metabolism. You’ve never heard of that?” I give him a hip bump, but I’m shorter than he is, so it ends up hitting his upper thigh.

He shakes his head as he slides open the glass door to his case. “Nope.”

“Well, google it.”

“I don’t have to,” he says as he carefully places the scones on the parchment paper. “I’m sure you have a vegetable schedule you can share with me. I wouldn’t want to eat my carrots when it’s actually broccoli time.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “You have pegged me all wrong.”

He slides the glass back in place then turns to me. He takes one finger and pushes the sign that reads “We accept all major credit cards” so it sits askew. He folds his arms and stares at me.

I know what he’s doing, and I try not to let it bother me.

It’s just a sign. It can sit crooked. It doesn’t matter.

But my eyes won’t stop glancing at it. It’s wrong, and it claws at my insides like a dissonant chord playing, unresolved, making my muscles tighten.

I hate that it’s bothering me, but I can’t help it.

I try to let it sit, but finally, I reach over and fix it.

Pretty Boy laughs. “I knew it.”

I turn from him. “Shut up. You don’t know everything about me.”

He stills. “You’re right. I don’t.” He says it quietly, and my blood freezes.

Is he still suspicious of me? I can’t believe that he heard me talking to Rafe on the phone. Stupid. I need to be more careful.

I turn back to him, expecting suspicion on his face, but his gaze holds no harsh edges. The way he’s looking at me is laced with curiosity, like he wants to know more about me. But that’s ridiculous. He’s not like that. He’s all surface, a shallow pool of water, glittery and fun but with no depth.

I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. He just stands there. “What?”

He shifts his weight. “How was it?”

I don’t know what he means until his gaze lands back at the spot by the register where I had the cupcake sitting. As he waits for me to answer, I realize he’s nervous to hear what I thought of it. I can’t be snarky to him. He looks too vulnerable right now. I smile. “It was delicious.”

His eyebrows fly up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. I loved it. You’re fantastic. Now go away before you get too full of yourself.” I shove him toward the kitchen. He disappears behind the doors, but I hear his laugh from the other room. It’s a deep laugh that rumbles in his chest, and I love the way it sounds.

The door chimes, and Kiera comes in. She looks so much like Kiki, it’s easy to see the family resemblance. She’s wearing a tank top and cutoff jeans and has her hair in two low pigtails. It looks cute on her.

“Hello,” I say as she walks up to the display case.

“Hi.” She stares at all the treats behind the glass.

“Is it hot out?” I ask, knowing the answer already. I hate small talk, but I’ve learned that standing there not saying anything to a customer is considered rude behavior.

“Ugh. It’s terrible. I feel like I’m melting.”

“At least August is almost over. Fall will be here before we know it.”

Kiera nods politely. “Yeah.”

I let her walk back and forth, taking in all of Levi’s creations, before asking, “Do you want me to get you anything?”

She checks the price sign. “Do you guys have any drinks?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“You should sell drinks. The bakery back home sold Italian sodas, and they put whipped cream in them. They were really good. All the kids would come in and get them then hang out and talk.”

I look out at the tables and chairs Levi set up that no one has used today. Kiera might be onto something. “That’s a good idea.”

She smiles. “Thanks.”

“How’s school so far?” I know school has just started, but from what I heard, Kiera just moved here, and moving during high school has got to be a challenge.

Kiera shrugs and looks at the floor. “Fine. I mean, it sucks, but school always sucks, right?”

I nod. She’s not wrong. “Yeah, school sucks. Have you made any friends?”

Kiera shakes her head. “No.”

And now I feel terrible for asking. Nice one. I totally get what it’s like feeling like the odd one out. While I always had Zoey in school, we weren’t part of the cool crowd, and pretty much everyone else ignored us.

Levi comes out from the kitchen with a tray of croissants.

They are filled with some kind of berry jelly and drizzled with white chocolate.

My mouth waters as the smell hits me. I want to taste one so bad it hurts, but I can’t.

I have celiac disease. Did I mention that I’m going to die working here?

“Hey,” he says as he sees Kiera. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Kiera eyes the croissants as she rocks back on her heels.

“Here, try my new creation. It’s called Sweet Talker.” He grabs one and hands it to her.

“What’s in it?” I ask before I can think.

He picks one up and extends his hand out to me. “Guess.”

I kick myself for not thinking ahead on that one. I wave my hands. “You are going to give away all your profits. I can’t possibly eat more anyway. Lunch and that cupcake filled me up.”

Levi frowns but puts the croissant back on the tray. Kiera, on the other hand, chomps down on hers. “This is so good,” she says with her mouth full. “I know it’s a fruit of some kind, but I can’t place it.”

Pretty Boy grins, and his dimple comes out in full force. Gah. If the gluten doesn’t kill me, working next to him certainly will. “It’s passion fruit filling.”

Kiera points at him. “Oh! Yes, I can taste it now. But there’s another flavor too. What is it?”

Levi fills the display case with them. “Vanilla bean.” His grin widens. “You have good taste.”

Kiera finishes the croissant, ignoring the compliment. I hand her some napkins, as her hands are now covered in sticky jam filling.

“I think I’ll need more than these,” she says as she wipes her hands.

“There’s a bathroom.” I point around the counter at the public restroom that sits past the tables.

“Thanks.” Kiera leaves to go wash her hands.

Levi finishes filling the display case and turns to leave but stops just before he goes through the swinging doors. He stands by the trash can, and my stomach drops when I see him looking into it.

He turns to me, his eyes wide. “You threw my cupcake away?”