Page 58 of Recipe for Love

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It seemed Rowan was not the kind of man to hide his feelings, nor was he the kind of man to keep praise to himself.

And he made me coffee.

Great coffee.

I cupped the mug he gave me, and we drank in silence until he went upstairs to finish getting dressed, and I got my things together so I was ready to leave.

I was used to the mornings being mine. Quiet. Feeling like I was the only person in the world. I’d liked it like that. It was one of the many excuses I’d used to make sure Nathan didn’t stay over. Which wasn’t a stretch anyway since he was a ‘light sleeper’ and would always complain about me waking him up too early.

On the rare occasions when he did stay over, my mornings didn’t feel sacred. I was aware of him, up there, sleeping, having to tiptoe around my own house.

It was not like that now. I was hyper-aware of Rowan’s—and Maggie’s—presence in the house. But it was not a bad thing. It made the place feel full, complete.

Especially when I got to see Rowan descending my stairs, dressed in the clothes from last night, putting on his cap, backward.

“Kip’s picking me up from the bakery,” Rowan said as I did my best not to drool all over him.

“Wouldn’t it be easier for him to pick you up from here? You can go back to sleep. I assume you get up early, but not this early, and you have a long day of manual labor ahead. You need the rest.”

Rowan’s eyes twinkled. “Appreciate the concern, baby, but you’re up, I’m up. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m going back to sleep in that bed without you in it.”

My chest bloomed with warmth at that statement. Like he was planning on sleeping in my bed with me again.

Soon, I hoped, even though that bowled through all the sensible rules I had about dating.

No sex until the fourth date.

No sleepovers two nights in a row until we’d been dating for longer than two months.

That kind of thing.

I’d been steadfast about those rules, clinging to them for a variety of reasons, all of which stemmed from my childhood.

The rules existed to protect me. Although none of the men I’d dated could really do real damage. Because of the rules, because I held them at arm’s length, because I picked men I could never truly fall in love with, I never really got hurt.

If there was ever a time to cling to those rules, it was now. If there was a man who could truly hurt me, it was this man in front of me.

“You don’t start work for hours yet,” I argued. “I’ll drop you off at home first.” I didn’t want Rowan and Maggie having to hang around at the bakery for hours with nothing to do. I also was incredibly curious to see where Rowan lived.

“No,” Rowan argued back. “You’re not gonna be alone in that bakery on a street that’s not gonna wake up for another few hours.”

I frowned at him. “I’m there every morning on my own.”

He nodded stiffly. “Yep, but every other morning you hadn’t pissed off a man who we already know doesn’t have a problem hurting women.”

My throat went dry. I hadn’t thought about Ronnie. Not once. Nor had I ever thought about me being alone and vulnerable in my bakery in the morning. Rowan was right. It was hours before the other business down the street opened. Even the early risers who ran on the beach waited for the sun to come up, especially with the weather cooling down.

I’d liked that. Loved it. Feeling like this was my time, when no other responsibilities existed. Just the measuring of sugar, butter, flour and chocolate.

I would not let anyone pollute that.

“I highly doubt that Ronnie Cockran is motivated enough to get up at five in the morning to teach me a lesson,” I countered. “I doubt he’s up before noon.”

The worry about him was a niggle in the back of my head, no different than the niggles every woman had in the back of her head about the creepy guy at the grocery store who stared at her too long, the guy at work who was always asking her out, the ex-boyfriend who didn’t take the breakup well.

Ronnie could hurt me, that was not something I was deluding myself about. Sure, the chances were slim now that he knew he had a whole bunch of people watching him, ready to teach him the lesson he sorely deserved.

But I wasn’t going to change the way I lived my life, and I wasn’t going to make Rowan feel like he needed to be my bodyguard every second I was alone.

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Nora.”

Maybe I should’ve fought more. Told him that he couldn’t barge into my life, home and business, declaring he had to protect me from one thing or another.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance