Page 11

Ellie

It’s my second week working at Sprinkles Café.

I stopped by Sprinkles the day after Haleigh and I talked, and Elaine, the owner, was so excited for me to start. She hired me on the spot and told me to come in the next day to get started. I’ve been here almost every day since then, and I’m grateful because I need all the money I can get.

It’s seriously the cutest little bakery and coffee shop I’ve ever seen.

The whole place is decorated in pink and aqua pastels, with sprinkle decals all over the white walls. My favorite thing about this place is the macarons. They are to die for and one of Elaine's best-selling bakery items. The cheeriness of Sprinkles definitely helps to brighten my mood daily .

One of Elaine's long-time employees who helped her bake recently moved out of state. Ever since, she's been struggling to keep up with the demand. So now, she is in the kitchen most mornings before the sun comes up.

I feel bad that I can’t help her, but I was upfront about it when she hired me. I can’t fucking cook, and I sure as hell can’t bake. She knows that. Thankfully, she’s got a help wanted ad for a baker, so hopefully, she will have some luck soon.

I’ve been so exhausted from getting up so early that I’m almost to a point of second-guessing my decision to work here, but I’m not quitting.

I can’t quit. I need the extra cash if I’m going to try to find somewhere to live.

Plus, Elaine is super sweet and very accommodating with my work schedule.

She has been flexible with me so far, especially when I needed to meet with one of my new clients.

The time I have left before we move is dwindling, and I’m getting so nervous. I met with another couple this weekend in need of my help with planning their spring wedding. It’s a step in the right direction, but I have too many gaps in my paychecks to feel comfortable.

So, for now, I will be working my ass off.

There’s no way in hell I’m moving with my bitch of a sister. She still hasn’t spoken to me since that morning. And I don’t fucking care, if Jaydon is stupid enough to fall for her bullshit, she can have him. I’m over him and all his games—well, at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

I let her know the only thing I couldn’t do was bake… or cook, for that matter. I told her some of my stories from past cooking experiences, and she thought it was the funniest thing in the world. So, she put me on the register, and I occasionally help make the coffee when we get busy.

I still haven’t had any luck with finding an apartment.

The two places I was interested in were out of my price range. The only one I could afford was a fucking dump, and it was about a thirty-minute drive to get there. So I’m in limbo, working nonstop and trying to save as much as possible with only two weeks left.

“Hey, Ellie… can you manage the front while I finish up the breakfast croissants in the back?”

“Sure thing. Anything else you need me to do before the morning rush?”

“Just make sure the cups and lids are restocked… I think they are getting a little low.”

I nod and head towards the supply closet, rummaging around until I find the right box.

I rush, trying to get everything prepared for the day. It's just the two of us for now; Elaine's in the back finishing up the fresh pastries, and the other three employees won’t arrive until seven.

I’m stacking the mint-green coffee cups on the counter when the door chimes, letting us know someone entered.

Turning to greet the customer, my words falter when I see Jaydon strutting towards the counter. Why the fuck does he continue to mess with me?

I act like I don’t know him to piss him off.

With a fake smile plastered on my face, I speak, “Welcome to Sprinkles. What can I get started for you?”

He eyes me in amusement, running his teeth over his bottom lip before speaking, “Oh… so that’s how you’re gonna be, huh, Peachy?”

I dramatically roll my eyes. “Do. Not. Call me that, Jaydon.”

Why the fuck does he have to be so sexy? Everything he does turns me on .

Totally ignoring my request, he carries on, “Alright… let’s see.” He stares at the menu above my head, with his lips pursed to the side, deep in thought, then his eyes meet mine once again. “Do you have anything here that tastes like a peach?”

My eyes roll all on their own. “Nope, sorry, we don’t.”

His eyes roam my body, confidence in his voice as he speaks, “Well… I know one thing behind the counter does, in fact , taste like a peach.”

“Jaydon.” My eyes bounce back towards the kitchen, making sure Elaine is nowhere in sight to hear this crazy man speaking. I plead silently with my eyes for him to stop, “Please… could you just tell me what you want?”

“How about you just fix me whatever drink you like to make, just nothing too sweet… the only sweetness I like is when I’m eating my peach.” He winks, and I totally ignore his little innuendo.

“Okay, well, give me something to work with. What’s your favorite flavor? We have, like, a million to choose from.” I wave over to the sign listing all the available flavors.

His eyes light up at my question, and the corner of his mouth turns up as he chuckles in amusement. “You should know the answer to that.”

I rapidly blink my eyes, getting annoyed, “No, Jaydon, I don’t… so please enlighten me. ”

His face turns deadly serious before he speaks, “You’re my favorite flavor, Peachy.”

I groan at his shameless flirting, heat rushing through me like a tidal wave.

I spin towards the espresso machine. I can feel the heat of his stare behind me as I take the few steps to make his drink.

I quickly glance back over my shoulder, and sure enough, he’s standing there.

Tatted arms folded across his chest, staring at my backside.

And I know why.

The tight cutoff jean shorts I have on cling in all the right places, showing off my curves.

I know they show a little too much thigh, but I paired them with my bubblegum pink Sprinkles Café t-shirt.

It's definitely not the most conservative look, but it gets hot as hell with the ovens and rushing around all morning. I’m still within dress code, though.

Elaine doesn’t care what we wear as long as we have on our T-shirt with her company logo on it.

He slowly nods, staring at me. My eyes bug out at him, giving him a perplexed stare before he speaks, “Yep,” his eyes drift back down, “you definitely have a sweet peach behind that counter.”

Shaking my head at his boldness, I turn back to the machine.

My lips turn up into a grin, thinking about the man behind me.

I make him my favorite—a salted caramel white mocha.

He probably won’t even like it; it's sweet as hell, but I don’t really give a fuck.

I just want him out of here before the morning rush of customers comes in.

Stoning my facial expression, I turn back towards the counter, grabbing a cardboard sleeve and sliding it onto the cup before handing it to him. His fingertips slightly graze mine, and a jolt runs through my body at his touch.

Fuck.

“Anything else I can get you?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, refusing to let him see the way he lights me on fire.

He doesn’t answer, just stands there silently studying my face like he's reading every filthy thought racing through my mind. My eyes dip, landing on his forearms—big fucking mistake. His muscles flex, the vein at the bend of his arm bulging, pulsing with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Damn, his arms do dangerous fucking things to me.

My pussy clenches, so wet and needy at the thought of him grabbing me, lifting me up and placing me on this very counter between us. Spreading me wide like he owns me, rubbing his fingers through my slick wetness, playing me until I break and fall apart for him.

He chews on the inside of his cheek, then drags his teeth across his bottom lip. His full kissable lip popping free, so fucking perfect, and I’m on the verge of launching myself over the counter to suck on it.

Get it together, Ells .

I shake my head, wanting to free myself from the thoughts rushing through my head. I never make the best decisions when he’s around.

Fuck, he’s always fucking with me.

My eyes bounce to meet his. He’s staring intensely into my eyes, slowly taking a sip of his coffee, his tongue seductively licking any remnants from his lips. And I know it's purely for my torture.

“It’s sweet…” his voice deep, gaze never leaving mine. “Just still not as sweet as you, Peachy.”

My pussy throbs.

Fuck. Him . And the cocky, seductive words that fall from his mouth. He needs to get out of here before I lose the last shred of self-control I have.

I don’t even think he normally stops by here. He’s more of a gas-station, black coffee kinda guy. Definitely not the type that stops at a sugar-sweet café in the mornings.

I lean forward and speak quietly so no one else can hear. “What do you want, Jaydon?”

“Hmm… I don’t think you’ll give me what I want…” his seductive eyes narrow, “… so this morning,” he pauses for a beat, “I’ll just have the coffee,” he says as he tips his coffee towards me.

He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and then taps his card, “Have a good day, Peachy.” Then he turns and walks his sexy ass out the door .

Why does he get to me so much?

Probably because I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.

Ugh. I need to think about Kevin and try to move forward with my relationship with him.

I don’t know why I’m so fucking flustered when he’s near me.

I need Jaydon to stay far away and out of my thoughts.

I’ve tried, but as much as I hate him, I can’t seem to get him out of my system or off my mind.