Finding Fate Page 12

  Colt rushes around the counter, his arms open. I’m thinking he’s going to help me. I put a hand out to tell him I’m fine but he’s not interested in me. He puts his hand into our little love sign in the flour and puts his hand to my face.

  Now I’m covered in flour.

  Colt laughs now and my left hand tries to sneak into the bag but Colt is already there.

  “You really want to start this?” he asks.

  “If we get dirty enough, it’ll give us a reason to get clean.”

  “Look at you,” he says, “talking dirty.” He touches my face again and slides close to me. Close enough that I’m up against the counter. His lower half is against mine. “But Bella... know one thing, I don’t need a reason to have you naked and in a shower.”

  I shudder. My lips touch and quiver. The buzzer on the oven goes off, everything at the right temperature… and not just in the oven.

  I’m frozen but on fire.

  Colt is like a giant against me. I’ve never felt so safe and alive in my entire life.

  “Now, how do we bake bread?”

  I take a large bowl with two hands shaking and start to make the dough. I do my best to talk to Colt, showing him how I knead the dough a little, before covering it to let it sit for a while.

  A long while.

  Long enough that he invites me to sit in my own bakery. I can’t remember the last time someone has sat in these chairs.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” he asks.

  He’s trying to be serious but there’s flour on his face. I giggle and he wipes his face, not that it actually does much of anything.

  “I told you,” I say, “I’m not asking anything. You’ll tell me when you want to tell me.”

  “Back at the cemetery...”

  “He deserved it, and more.”

  “I didn’t think he’d show up. I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “But it could have. My father is violent. And now, without my mother... it’s only a matter of time before he goes too.”

  “Does it hurt?” I ask, breaking my rule of no questions.

  “What?”

  “Everything. Knowing you have a parent who doesn’t care?”

  “It used to. But I believe when an empty spot forms in our hearts it’s there for someone else to fill.”

  He reaches across the table and takes my hands. His eyes are sincere. He means it. And I get it. My heart doesn’t feel so empty now either.

  “I meant what I said,” I say. “About going with you.”

  “I know. And we will. Soon.”

  “You can stay at my apartment...”

  “I’ve been in a hotel since coming here,” Colt says. “I can stay there until you’re ready.”

  I flip my hands over so they’re on top of Colt’s. “I’m ready, Colt. Beyond ready.”

  “I just want to make sure...”

  “So you’d prefer to sleep alone in a hotel over sleeping with me?”

  “I really don’t think we will be sleeping.”

  I smile.

  “Don’t you deserve more than this?” Colt asks.

  I don’t look around the bakery because I know he’s right.

  I nod and say, “I’m sure I do. That’s why I’m sitting across from you.”

  “Not just this place, but me. I’ve got my own skeletons.”

  “We all do.”

  “You read that article. You saw my father.”

  “And I don’t care about any of it. We all make choices in life. Some are good, some are bad. You don’t think I’ve made bad choices?”

  “Have you?” Colt asks as he smirks.

  “Of course I have. Like today. I went to see my mother. She called and said she fell. When I got there she said she tripped but she didn’t. She was drunk and hit her head. I left her, bleeding and in pain. I could have stayed and helped more. I could have talked more.”

  “Words can only be accepted if they’re listened to.”

  “You sound poetic,” I say.

  “No, I sound truthful.”

  “Well, whatever the case, there’s always this moment where my mother and I stare at each other. I wait for her to say she loves me and she won’t say it. I’m sure she wants me to say it to her but I won’t. I won’t because I spent my entire life chasing her down, trying to make her love me. For once, I just want her to take the first step. But she doesn’t. She won’t. And I always leave. Just like today. I left.”

  “You did what you felt was right,” Colt says. “You don’t need to see that anymore. Someone drinking themselves into a hole. The way I see it, each sip is the same as slamming a shovel into the ground.” Colt starts making the motions and I’m not following. “Digging their own grave...”

  Oh, yeah, now I get it.

  “My grandparents showered her with so much love and hope,” I say. “They really thought they could help her. But she just drained them for years. Now they’re gone and she relies on me.”

  “Not anymore,” Colt says. “When we leave, we leave for good. Let her find you.”

  “I’ll tell her where I’m going.”

  “Of course. But it in her hands.”

  “It’s so easy to talk to you, Colt. You know that? I have nobody who understands me.”

  “What about your other boyfriend?”

  He smiles but I see the flicker of jealousy.

  “Stevey? He’s with my best friend, Becca-Ann.”

  “Where’s she at?”

  “Paris. At school. I was supposed to go too, or at least consider it, but I couldn’t... with the bakery and all.”

  “That worked out,” Colt says as he slips his hands back into mine.

  Then I realize that it did work out. Grammie always told me that the world is full of chances. If we focus on one that got away we’re just going to let the others get away too. Then she’d explain how the bakery began and it would make sense.

  But it did make sense, right now.

  Colt was right.

  I wasn’t meant to go to Paris because I was meant to meet him.

  “What are we going to do when we leave?” I ask.

  “Does it matter?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  I look over my shoulder. Between the talking, the flirting, the thinking, and the touching, it’s time knead and bake some bread. Colt joins me behind the counter again and as I face the back of the counter, punching and rolling the dough, he slowly creeps up behind me. He puts his fingers right at the bend of my arms and slowly he runs his fingers up to my wrists and then over the back of my hands.

  “Show me,” he whispers and kisses my right ear.

  I can’t help how my body reacts to Colt, it’s something beyond losing all control. I continue to move and his strong hands are on mine. His strong arms are tight against mine. Then I feel his chest, pressing against my back. I sigh. And finally, his lower half presses against me, hard. Everything of his is hard. From his muscles to... something else. I look over my shoulder and see Colt looking at me. He cares as much about the dough as I do right now.

  Our lips come together at the same time. Our mouths open a second later and as we kiss, we breath deep and each moan. My fingers are stilling playing with the dough. The tips of our tongue battle playfully as I shape the dough and place it on a tray. Who knew I’d be able to bake and engage is such sexy acts at the same time?

  When I’m done with the dough, needing to let it sit for a few more minutes before baking it, I place my hands flat on the counter. Colt’s hands are on top of mine. His back is against mine. My head is turned. The kiss is getting hotter by the second. He breaks the kiss with a loud wet noise and nuzzles his nose against my cheek, making me look forward. I take the time to try and catch my breath but it’s impossible. His lips touch just behind my ear and he kisses down to my neck. He hurries back up to my ear and he whispers to me.

  “Turn around.”

  I d
on’t want to turn around, I sort of the like the position we’re in. But I’m not going to argue with Colt, not over this kind of stuff.

  I turn around and his hands are at the bottom of my shirt. He slowly lifts, enough to expose some of my skin. I see him smile as he licks his lips. He starts to bend his knees and I gasp for air.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  He’s eye level with my breasts when he looks up. “I’m going to show you how wrong we can be...”

  His fingers play with the button of my jeans and I lean all my weight against the counter. When his lips touch my stomach, I cry out his name.

  Something tells me that’s not the only place he’s going to kiss...

  -Chapter 19-

  I’m right.

  Somehow between everything that happens, I manage to bake the bread. I still can’t feel some of my lower half. My legs are like jelly, my heart won’t stop racing, and each time I look at Colt and see the wildness in his eyes, I blush.

  That was certainly the hottest moment of my life.

  That’s a memory in the bakery I never thought would happen. Ever.

  The bread comes out of the oven with a warm perfection. I slide it across the counter towards Colt and he puts his hands up, not wanting to touch the pan and burn his hands.

  “Wow,” he says. “That looks amazing.” He looks at me. “Especially when you consider... the distraction...”

  I look away but my face is already red.

  “That’s why you deserve more,” Colt says. “That’s amazing. You don’t need Paris to know you have talent. This right here is talent.”

  “Now what do we do with it?” I ask.

  “We eat.”

  “We eat bread for dinner? Wow, we really are on the run, aren’t we?”

  “No, not like that. We’ll stop at a store. I’ll make you dinner. You made the bread so I’ll make pasta and sauce. I’ll have to buy jar sauce, so don’t judge me.”

  “I won’t hold it against you,” I say, “only if I get you as a desert.”

  I’m shocked I say that, but whatever. After what Colt just did to me behind the counter, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about him, wanting him, and quite honestly, I need him.

  “That’s a deal,” he says. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Works for me. As we walk towards the door I begin to realize that it may be the last time I’m ever in the bakery. Without me, it’ll close within months. I’m not sure what will happen to my mother but she has to survive on her own. I pause and look at the walls. There’s six old photos of the bakery, from the day it opened to different pictures... my favorite being a picture of my grandparents young and then a picture of them a few years ago. They’re in the same pose right out in front of the bakery.

  I can’t bear not being able to see those pictures.

  “What’s wrong?” Colt asks.

  “These pictures... they’re my history...”

  “They’re in your memory,” Colt says. “I bet if you close your eyes you can still see them.”

  He's right. It's is part of letting go and moving on. Grammie and Grandpa will always be alive in my heart. Not to mention how they shaped me. Their beliefs, actions, even their work ethic. It's all part of myself.

  Even this part, as I take Colt's hand and walk out of the bakery. When Grandpa saw Grammie for the first time, he jumped out of a moving pickup truck and chased her car down just to hello. Now that's true love.

  I look at Colt and it all makes sense.

  He hands me the helmet and I put it on. I don't look back at the bakery. We just ride, again, stopping at the local grocery store for some food. At my apartment, Colt and I are mostly quiet but we maneuver in my small kitchen like a married couple. It's a different kind of feeling but I embrace it. Our causal touches and flirty glances make me to just take him to my bedroom and order a pizza to be delivered.

  But I control myself, as does Colt.

  I purposely make it a point to get myself into nothing but a tight tank top just so I can torture his eyes.

  We sit to eat and it's the first time I'm having dinner with a guy in my apartment. Not that it's hard to make but Colt managed to make the pasta delicious. Even the jar sauce... he did something to it.

  "We make a good team," he says. He takes a bite of bread and moans. It's over embellished and I laugh. "I'm serious, Bella. This is the best bread I've ever had."

  I think about what Colt did to me while I was making that bread and I blush. I have to repay the favor in a little while.

  When I finish, Colt grabs my plate and walks it to the kitchen. I'm amazed. I'm not sure I can remember the last time someone served me and cleaned up without being in a restaurant. I should help Colt but it’s really sexy watching him rinse the plates and load the dishwasher. I suddenly feel grown up. Turned on, but grown up.

  He finishes and I take my turn now, moving from the chair to the kitchen. He's at the sink and I walk up behind him and place my hands to hips. He looks over his shoulder and smiles.

  "Bella. Don't start something you can't finish."

  "I'm sure I can finish anything I start."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Turn around, Colt."

  Now I'm in control, right there in my kitchen. I do exactly what he did to me at the bakery. The only difference is that I take his shirt off. I don't lift it up, I lift it off. That way I can start kissing his chest. I have the urge to savor all of him and that's what I do.

  When Colts grips the counter and let's out a little growl, I know I'm doing my job well. He touches my hair and tells me to stop. I can't resist his words as he tells me I have five seconds to get naked and get in my bed.

  It takes more than five seconds, but as I fall to my bed, Colt is there with me. He's on top of me with a sensual rage that has me reaching for something to hold onto. This is beyond passion and it's beyond lust. This is nothing I've ever experienced before. I have a quick window to look down at Colt's body before it begins. He somehow manages to slip protection on himself and the second he's at me and in me, nothing else in the world matters.

  We take turns rolling around in the bed. One second he's on me, the next I'm on him. We can't settle because we can stop having each other. It's wild, it's sweaty, and it's loud. We pause a few times just to kiss parts of each others bodies, making the night last longer. Colt then rolls on me and puts my arms over my head. He holds my wrists together with one hand and stares into my eyes.

  "Bella, I love you," he says.

  With that our bodies come together again. This time it's all Colt, all in control. It's exactly how I want it and as my body starts to shake, Colt releases his grip. My hands go right to Colt's strong back and I hold him as he has me.

  And that's where the night really begins and then ends.

  When we're done, Colt rolls around in a perfect motion, pulling me on top of him. My head finds a resting place against his chest and I fall asleep to the feel of Colt's fingers in my hair and the sound of his heart beating.

  This is my life, and nothing can ruin it.

  I hope.

  -Chapter 20-

  I’m lost in a dream. Seriously. Lost. I’m standing the bakery but it’s not the bakery. Everything is gone. It’s just an open floor of the bakery. There’s dust everywhere, or maybe it’s just foggy because I’m dreaming. On the floor there’s white spots, perfect outlines of the counter, the ovens, even the tables and chairs. They’re like the chalk drawings of victim at a crime scene.

  I kneel down and touch the floor.

  It’s not dirty, it’s just used.

  The walls match the floors, squared outlines of the frames that were once there. That bothers me the most. Where are the frames? Who took the pictures? The bakery could rot into a rusted shell of memories for all I care, but those pictures... I shouldn’t have listened to Colt. Of course I can see the pictures when I close my eyes but now I can’t dream about them. They’re missing. And they’re going to stay
missing if I don’t get them.

  I walk to the wall and touch it. It’s warm, very warm. Like hovering your palm over a fresh loaf of bread, just out of the oven. A comforting warmth. And I smell it too. I run my hand along the wall and once I leave the spot where the frames should be, it’s cold. Icy cold. Painfully cold. Like gripping ice cubes. I don’t like this feeling at all.

  I move my hand along the wall and I hear a bell ringing. I look over my shoulder. The door is closed but the bell is slightly moving.

  Maybe it was wind.

  Air.

  Something.

  Now I hear ringing.

  Ringing?

  I look to where the phone should be. It’s not there. But I hear ringing coming from that spot. I walk towards area, moving as though the counter and tables are still in the place. It’s habit. It’s odd.

  I’m at the wall.

  There’s no phone but there’s... ringing...

  Wait.

  That isn’t the bakery phone ringing.

  It sounds like... my cell phone.

  My cell phone is ringing.

  “Bella...”

  Hold on, I try to say. I can myself saying it but that’s it. I just hear.

  “Bella... your phone is ringing...”

  I know. I can hear the phone ringing.

  “Bella, wake up.”

  My eyes open and the dream is sucked away, thrown into the trenches of my mind. I’m confused, groggy, and when I finally grab my phone, I see that it’s just before six in the morning.

  Who is calling me this early?

  It’s just a number on the screen. Normally I would just let it go to voicemail, but I’m sort of pissed right now. That dream meant something, I know it. Leave it to both Becca-Ann and Colt to finally change my mind about signs and fate and all that stuff.

  I take the call, wanting to sound like a total bitch, but I’m just too tired.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Isabella Cressley?”

  The voice is serious. I start to sit up. “Yes. It is. Who is this?”

  “Isabella, I’m calling you from Grayview Memorial Hospital.”

  Hospital?