Those brown eyes I love so much are cold as they glare at me. “You’re going to make what right? The fact I had hardly any customers this afternoon after your little fictitious letter went viral? Fix the fact I had a customer cancel an upcoming wedding cake order that I had just secured last week? Guess what, Jasper. You can’t make this right. The damage is done. You spewed mistruths publicly, damaging my business and my reputation.”
This is what a broken heart feels like.
“But do you know what’s worse of all? As badly as that hurts, and believe me, that fucking blows, what hurts the most is being betrayed by the one person I thought was my friend. The one person who held me in his arms and made me feel safe and secure, who gave me the confidence I needed to push through the hardest weeks of opening my own business. The man I trusted more than anyone else, and now that’s broken.”
She starts to cry once more. I step forward, but she pulls back. Again.
It’s like someone is cutting out my heart with a rusty butter knife.
“Please go.”
I move away from her, only because I know my words won’t matter. No amount of apologizing will fix this. My mind is screaming to cut my losses and get the hell out of here. I wasn’t the relationship kind of guy anyway, right? This just proves I’m nothing but the self-centered asshole everyone accuses me of being. All I’ll do is taint her beauty, her goodness.
This proves I’m all wrong for her.
I knew it then.
I know it now.
It’s still hard though, walking away from the only woman I’ve ever seen myself loving. Even when I know it’s the best thing for her. And for me.
But I do it. I walk to the door. I push open the screened outer one and step through it. Only when I’m over the threshold, everything I never knew I wanted standing behind me, do I stop and turn around.
And want to cry.
She looks so lost, so hurt, so devastated.
And I did that.
Me.
And because I’m the ultimate asshole, I tell her words I’ve never spoken to another woman, outside my family. Words I should keep to myself, knowing they’ll probably do more damage than good, especially now. “I never meant to hurt you. I love you.”
I walk the rest of the way through that door and don’t look back. It would kill me if I did, and I’m too weak.
Love makes you weak.
Vulnerable.
Two things I hate.
So I push past the guilt, through the pain, and walk away from the woman I fell in love with. Why? Because I wounded her so intently, broke her trust so irreparably, and nothing can change or fix that.
There is no future for that kind of hurt.
Especially not for an asshole like me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lyndee
“That’s the last one,” I say to absolutely no one. With a sigh, I set my cell phone a little too roughly on the counter. But what’s a girl to do? That’s the final cake order I had on the books, and now it’s gone like the rest of them.
Two days. That’s how long it takes for a business to completely tank. For fourteen special order cakes to cancel, not even caring about the cancelation fee. I, of course, couldn’t even go through with the charges, refusing to take that fifty dollars from people who would much rather listen to the opinions of an angry man.
But I understand where they’re coming from. I’m the new girl in town. Burgers and Brew has been in business for more than five years, a thriving local establishment with a reputation most competitors would kill for.
Like me.
I’d kill for that kind of PR and status.
Instead, I’m left with an empty bakery, a display case full of pastries, and a loan payment coming up that doesn’t care about some stupid letter to the editor.
Around noon, I hear the bell ring over the door, and I jump in surprise. When I glance up, I see Mallory and Lizzie coming in, a wide smile on the mother’s face and an impending sugar coma gaze on the little girl’s.
“Hi,” I say, setting my cleaning rag in the bucket. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, we came for treats, but also I need to discuss a cake,” Mallory replies as her daughter runs up to the display case.
“I want dat one!” Lizzie bellows, pointing to the sprinkle-covered cupcake with chocolate and vanilla swirl frosting.
“Of course you do. Pick one out for me and Walker too. We’ll have them before he goes to work later,” Mallory tells her daughter before turning and giving me a gentle smile.
Her kindness brings instant tears to my eyes. I cover them up by filling the cupcake box with treats, some picked by Lizzie and some by me. “Here you go, sweetie. On the house,” I tell the little girl, handing over the bag with her cupcakes.
“Oh, no, I’ll pay. I insist,” Mallory says, pulling cash from her purse.
“No, it’s okay,” I reply, glancing around at the empty room.
Mallory does the same, as if understanding completely what I’m saying. “But every little bit helps,” she whispers, shoving two twenties across the counter.
I give her a sad smile. “I’m not sure anything can fix this, but I do appreciate it.” I slide the money back toward her.
When she takes it, she doesn’t put it in her wallet, but shoves it in the empty tip jar sitting on top of the counter. “I also need a cake.”
“Oh,” I reply, somewhat awkwardly. Since I don’t know how long I’ll remain in business, I’m not sure what I should do here. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job,” I confess, following her around the counter and joining her at a bistro table.
“What? Of course you are! You’re the only person for the job. I need a wedding cake, and you’re the only one I want to make it.”
I smile softly, so very happy for my new friend. “Well, I appreciate it. I’d love to make it for you,” I reply honestly.
“Good,” she states with a nod. “We don’t need a very big one, but what I’m thinking is two small tiers. I don’t have a topper or anything, so just throw some flowers or something on there. I trust you.”
I can’t help but grin. “Okay,” I reply, making a note in my notebook. “When do you need it by?”
“Valentine’s Day?” she asks, offering me a smile that’s both apologetic and enthusiastic.
“Wow, that’s only a few weeks away! Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she says. “I wanted to get married before I started to get too big with the baby. I’m not wearing a big fancy dress, just something subtle and timeless.”
“I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
“Well, you’ll be there, right?” she insists, watching as her daughter sticks her finger inside the box of cupcakes and pulls it out covered in frosting.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” I stammer, unsure what to say. Surely she’s heard all about what happened here and between Jasper and me, right?
“Listen, I know everything is a…mess right now, but I truly believe in my heart it’ll turn around for you. You’re too amazing at what you do to go out like this,” she says, standing up. “I say you give ‘em hell, Lyndee. Show this town you’re here to stay. And maybe kick Mr. Kohlmann in the jingle bells on your way to the top.”