She’d spent years attempting to ruin the man’s vows, and I was really glad she’d never managed it.
Jenny wore her sexuality like a suit of armor around her. It pissed me off sometimes, but she was my friend, and I could talk to her about anything.
Well, anything except my father. That was, for his sake, a no-go.
And though I was talking about Finn, there were some things I just couldn’t discuss. Like how, that first morning, he’d fed me breakfast. How I’d felt his eyes on me as I’d moved around his kitchen. His request that I bake him bread, while anything but sexual, felt so intrinsically private, that I couldn’t share that with anyone.
I’d used Fiona’s recipe. It was imprinted in my brain anyway, and I guess I’d been mean trying to remind him of home. . . .
I wasn’t sure if he’d been serious, first off. Asking your sexual partner to bake you some bread had to be one of the oddest requests around, right? Then, I hadn’t been sure if I’d ever see him again. He’d been tender with me that morning, tender but strained. I’d felt certain I’d never see him again, even though he’d left me with the images of him jacking off that morning.
So, even though I’d complied with his request, I’d tried to make it bittersweet for him by reminding him of the mother he’d abandoned years before.
As I’d made the dough, kneading it by hand as Fiona had taught me, wasting hours at Finn’s place while I let it rise then bake, I’d realized how much I’d missed baking. It was what had prompted me to think of this venture.
I wanted to bake. Nothing more, nothing less.
I didn’t want to piss around with tiny canapés. I didn’t want to deal with fiddly amuse bouches to tempt the tiny appetites of size-zero women.
I wanted, I’d realized as I knocked back the dough in Finn’s ultra luxurious kitchen, to go back to my roots.
After I took a sip of coffee, I stated, “Fancy coming to the salon with me now?”
Jenny blinked at me. “Hell, yeah.”
I nodded and downed the rest of my coffee, something in me settling as I felt like this was the right move to make. “If the management company can’t fit me in then we can just case out the area.”
Jenny snorted. “Honey, if they’re not around like a fucking shot, they’re morons. That place has been empty for years.”
My lips curved at her statement. Jenny had many flaws but when it boiled down to it, she never packed her punches. Because I was accustomed to that, I figured it would keep me in good stead for however long Finn O’Grady graced my bed.
He might have my head in the clouds, but Jenny would ensure my feet stayed firmly on the ground.