Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I laugh and nod. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have tried the same damn thing if I had your skills. So, you’re self-taught?”
“Mostly, yeah. The FBI showed up on my doorstep and hauled my puny ass in to interrogate me, sure I was working for some nefarious group. When they realized I was just a stupid kid, they put me in front of a judge who changed my life.”
I blink and sit back to refill our glasses. “Okay, that’s not what I was expecting.”
“Glad I can still surprise you.” He winks and knocks another shot back quickly. “Jail or the service. Said the military turned him into a man and gave him the discipline he needed to become the man he was. Said it would do the same for me, or he’d see me back in his court year after year. I chose the military.”
“Wise choice?”
He shook his head thoughtfully. “Some. I did get discipline, and they honed my computer skills for their benefit. I didn’t like that I was tasked with going after people like me, poor and stupid, so I put in my time and got out as soon as I could.”
“Wow.” I sigh and cross my arms around my stomach. “That is an unexpected origin story, Wilder.”
“Still think I’m a piece of shit?” His words are light, but there’s a gravity to them that hits me in the chest.
“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit. A kidnapper? Without a doubt. But not a piece of shit. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, minus the hauling me over your shoulder thing.”
He laughs. “Well, it gave me an up-close view of that fine ass of yours, so I’d say it was worth it.” Wilder shrugs, and his eyes sparkle as he stares at me. “Why Angel Harbor?”
I frown. “This is a nice town with beautiful houses right along the water. Why not?”
“But surely your bakery would do better in LA or San Francisco?”
I shrug. “Probably, but when I won the Amateur Baking Championship, I wanted a place here in Angel Harbor.”
He lifts his glass with a wide grin. “To making a home wherever you find it.”
I grin. “To making it work on your own terms.”
I start to relax after three shots and ignore the clanging bells in my head that are telling me not to relax, to stay alert, and on guard. Too bad Wilder’s presence and the Fireball swirling in my bloodstream is having none of that.
“I’ll drink to that.” His smile is slow and sultry, and I wonder if he’s practiced that look in the mirror or if it came naturally. Does it really matter?
No. He’s too young for me, and we live different lives, so there’s no point even going there.
“What made you decide to go for it and appear on a televised baking show?”
I smile at the question. It’s something very few people ever ask. They just assume the whole world wants to be on TV.
“Honestly? I was tired of working for other people who, in my opinion, weren’t nearly as skilled as I was. I couldn’t get a loan because bakers don’t make that much money, and my parents wouldn’t help me out. It was always a long shot.”
His brows dip in confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve tasted your stuff. It isn’t just good. It’s addictive.”
I smile at his confidence in my abilities. “Thank you, but we all know a good chunk of television is what you look like, and I know what I look like. I don’t have the wow factor. Even the producer said as much. Called me an underdog story.” I laugh bitterly. “Even he didn’t think I had a chance.”
Wilder flashes a wide grin made brighter by his thick pink lips. “You showed them, didn’t you?”
“I just baked my ass off. Every day of the competition, I baked like it was the final.”
“Of course you did. And anyone who thinks you’re an underdog isn’t paying attention, Maven. You’re stubborn as hell, and you have a blind spot concerning bikers that I don’t love, but you are not an underdog. You’re smokin’ hot.”
I laugh. “And this Fireball is affecting your vision.” My smile fades slowly, and I sigh. “I don’t need you to feed me lines, Wilder.”
“I don’t do lines, Maven. At the risk of sounding cocky, I don’t need to.”
That much is true. “Still.”
He sits up straight with a gleam in his eyes as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “Am I not allowed to find you attractive?”
I blink at his words. “You can do whatever you want,” are the words I settle on. “Clearly,” I motion around my current prison.
Wilder’s smile grows. “We’re not talking about that right now. We’re talking about me finding you attractive. No,” he shakes his head. “Not just attractive. It’s too tame a word for the fire I see in your eyes.”