I straighten as best I can, limping to inspect the bakery cases. My reflection in the glass shows an unkempt man with sallow cheeks and dark crevices under his eyes. I look twenty years older than I am. I look like a homeless man.
I am a homeless man. For now.
Until I take my father’s mansion. That will be my first move.
“Un caffè, per favore.” My voice is a guttural rasp.
She bustles to get it. I lean a little too heavily on the counter and when she returns, she nearly drops the cup.
“Oh my god,” she says. “You're bleeding.”
“It's nothing.” I wave a hand and wince. “Do not trouble yourself.”
“No, no, wait here.” She whirls and heads to the door leading to the back of the shop. Through the haze of pain, I focus on her curvy backside.
The burn in my side fades to nothing. By the time she returns with a first aid kit, I’m standing taller.
“May I?” She gestures to my hand.
At my nod, she lifts it and begins to clean the slash on my palm with gentle hands. Funny, I didn’t even feel that wound. The one under my jacket is much greater. What would this little baker do if I shrugged off my layers and showed her my red-stained shirt?
Up close, I can study her snub nose, her dark lashes, her bright doe eyes. She’s been crying, but there’s more color in her cheeks now than when I first came in.
“Did someone upset you?'' I ask as she bandages the cut.
“Oh, it's nothing.” She blinks and sniffles. “My boyfriend just broke up with me,” she admits. “That was him and his new girlfriend who left just now. They acted like…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “They acted like I was nobody to them. We spent four years together in high school.” Her voice wobbles. “Anyway.”
She’s upset, and still she gives what she can to me. A perfect stranger.
She reaches for a bakery box and sets one perfect, pink-frosted cupcake into it. “Happy Valentine's Day.” She hands me the white box. There’s the barest quiver in her lower lip. “I hope yours is better than mine.”
“Thank you.” It’s all I can do not to leap over the counter to thank her properly, knife wound be damned.
I stroll to the door, bakery box in hand. I pause with my hand on the door and twist to ask her, “Do you believe in fate?”
Her brow furrows, but she doesn’t say no.
A plan is brewing inside me. The puzzle I’ve been trying to solve, shifting and locking together.
She is the missing piece.
It’s too soon to say this. “Something tells me next year’s Valentine’s Day will be better than this one.”
“I hope so,” she says.
I dip my head, and wrench the door open, striding into the day. Soon, I will return.
I’m coming for you, principessa.
Want more Leah & Royal? Read A Bun In The Oven, an exclusive extra scene starring Leah & Royal from Revenge is Sweet
By Lee Savino
“Cara,” he groans. “You’re perfect for me.” Plunging his cock deep inside, the angle is just right, each pass rubbing my G spot. The deep sensation makes my legs quiver. “I’m going to tie you up and leave you at my mercy, and when the time is right,”—he slows his thrusts, rolling his hips so I feel his every inch—“I’m going to breed you.”
***