“I can’t believe you haven’t attacked that man yet. Girl are you crazy? How long have you been without the D?” D.D. asks. I swear my manager, and probably best friend in the world, has sex on the brain. Not that I don’t since Michael has come back. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed now for a week. Seven long days. Seven long frustration filled days! He’s been true to his word too. He hasn’t touched me and I kind of hate him for it. If he had been the one to initiate it, I wouldn’t feel guilty. I could claim I got swept up in the moment. Which is total bullshit, and just me being a big chicken, but it’s true.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I grumble.

“But look at him out there, Hayden! Women are eye-fucking him like crazy and yet he still sits and stares at the door waiting for you to come back through it.”

I sigh as I glance at the small two-way glass window that allows us to look out, but prevents the customers from seeing in. She’s right. Michael’s intense stare is on the door, nowhere else. She’s also right about that damn redhead in the store. She’s pretending to look at cupcakes and instead she keeps looking at Michael. He either doesn’t notice or is just ignoring her. Either way, he’s not giving her the time of day.

I’m voting that he doesn’t notice. He has some serious issues about his scars, which is crazy because he’s beautiful! That’s what most women notice. I will admit there have been a few that stare at his scars and curl their nose in distaste. My first instinct has always been to throat punch them, but I don’t want to draw attention to it, in case it bothered Michael. It’s unbelievable that I’m trying to protect his feelings when I should be pushing him out of my life. Instead, I’m enjoying him back in my life and if I was being brutally honest, I also love having him back in my bed—even without the sex. I do miss the sex, though—a lot—and if I don’t quit dreaming about it, Michael’s going to know exactly how much.

“Let it go, D.D. Don’t you have more important things to worry about? Like the East Side Elementary cupcake order, for example?”

“Yes, boss,” she answers, rolling her eyes. We’re both smiling, and even when she’s being annoying, I still love her. “Hey, Hayden?”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’re not claiming that man out there it probably doesn’t matter, but…”

“But?”

“I think the redhead finally has his attention,” she answers.

I can’t stop myself from jerking around to look. Sure enough, the redhead is standing by Michael’s side. She’s practically pushing her breasts into his face when he finally turns around to look at her. I growl because even though it’s not what I had planned, I find myself walking into the other room. I could lie and say I don’t have a reason, but I know I do. It’s to make sure that fake-boobed ginger stays away from my man. I let out a pent-up breath at that thought, because I realize what I just did.

My man. You’re a stupid, stupid girl Hayden Graham.

“You look so familiar! I’ve been staring at you, trying to place you, Finally, I thought, oh shoot! I’ll just ask!” the overzealous red-head chirps out, and her voice is almost nasally and very annoying.

“I don’t think so,” Michael all but grunts, which makes me smile. I pretend to be busy collecting baking sheets and spare a glance over at him. He’s looking at me, those dark eyes intense and heated enough that it causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh.

“But a man like you, so virile and….” She pauses. In my head, I have to ask if this chick is for real. Virile? “And big,” she finishes and she gasps the next word out like she’s actually holding his damn cock. I might take my anger out on my baking pans by tossing them on the counter. They land loudly. The sound of them clanging together echoes through the small storefront. The woman jumps at the noise. “Goodness!” she complains. I raise my head up to look at her and Michael—and sure enough her boobs are still in his face. She has her hand on her chest in mock surprise at the noise I made, but you would have to be stupid not to realize she was trying to draw his attention to her tits. How does one survive with that much silicone injected into their body?

“Sorry,” I huff. “There seems to be a pesky bug in here. It annoyed me,” I grumble, turning to go in the back again, I’ve had about all of this I can stand. I stop short though when I hear it. Michael’s laughter and it’s honestly the first time he’s laughed this loudly, this fully since that day at the lake. I can hear…joy in it. It’s beautiful. It’s amazing.

“A bug? How disgusting! Maybe you and I should—Oh my God!” the red-head screeches. “What happened to your face?” she all but yells, and just like that Michael’s laughter stops. It stops and his face closes up. Suddenly, I hate that redhead for entirely different reasons. I want to slap her. It’s my first instinct. The only thing that stops me—and it barely does—is the fact that I’m heavily pregnant. Instead, I march over and push her away from Michael.

“Get out!” I growl and not quietly.

“What? Why?”

“This is my bakery and I don’t want you here. So get out.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you were acting like a tramp and flirting with my man and then—”

“Your man?” Michael and the redhead say this together. I feel heat swamp me, but I don’t give into it.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m not after him. Not after I got a good look at him. But, if I wanted to, I could definitely take him from you. Here’s some advice for you. If you want to keep a man, you should at least try and do something with your hair—even if you do look like an elephant right now.”

“You bitch,” I growl, and I want to go after her and deck her. Pregnant or not, I think with one good hit she’d go down. I sure as hell am willing to try. Michael stops me however. He grabs my hand and pulls me. I land awkwardly on his lap. His hand comes up under my hair and he holds my neck.

“Your man?” he growls again.

“Michael—” I start, and I’m beginning to fear my outburst because I can see the depth of the heat and emotion shining in his eyes. My brain is crying, “Retreat!”

“Your man,” he growls. “You claimed me, Hayden,” he says, his voice dark and stormy. The look of victory in his eyes is so intense, my heart begins slamming against my chest. He brings our heads slowly together, his forehead resting against mine. His hand tight on my neck in a possessive hold. I want to run away. I want to deny it. I want to hold him forever. I close my eyes and try to breathe through the panic.

“I claimed you,” I whisper—more to myself than to him. My hands find his hair, which he’s wearing down today, and I hold onto it even while moving to cradle the side of his face. I open my eyes slowly. “I love you, Michael,” I whisper, giving him words he might not want to hear—but the words that I can’t contain, especially when I see the emotions on his face. He groans and the vibration of it seems to quake through my body. Leaving me hungry, needy for him and…wet. His lips come down on mine—rough, not gentle. He takes my mouth, his tongue thrusting inside my mouth to plunder and wage war. A war he’s already won. A war I’m happy to surrender to. I’m so lost in the kiss that I don’t even hear the woman leave. I hear nothing, except the pounding of my own heart. I’m pretty sure I’m crying. I can feel the tears slide from my eyes. Yet, they’re not tears of sadness. Not this time.

All I feel is happiness, because after months of being alone, I finally feel like I’m whole again.