Did she miss him? Did she wish he hadn’t been such a jerk? Did she regret leaving him like he regretted her leaving? Or was she fine without him? He wasn’t fine without her. Not in the slightest. She’d slipped into his life so effortlessly that he hadn’t realized how perfect for him she was until she was gone.
With Taylor, there was sunshine and life and laughter. Without her, there was nothing but clouds. Sappy, maybe, but the words had never felt truer.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk at her or you gonna go say something?” Rex elbowed him.
Right. Loch took a deep breath, then paused and looked over at Rex. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Admitting I was wrong. Asking for someone to come back. Telling her that I fucked up and was a prat. That I treated her unfairly.” He rubbed his neck, unbearably tense. He couldn’t mess this up. “What should I say?”
“Any of that is a pretty good starter.” Rex pushed at Loch’s back. “Now, quit being a pussy and get over there and talk to the girl. I’m going back to my spot. Thanks for lunch.”
“See you around,” Loch said absently, staring at Taylor from afar. She was talking animatedly to someone after handing them something. She laughed and his cock tightened in response. God, he loved that happy, carefree laugh of hers. It made his entire body light up.
Determined, he crossed the street, heading toward her.
Taylor’s back was to him, and as he approached, he studied her. She was talking animatedly, handing out something in tiny plastic cups. People paused, downed the sample, and then said something to her and she marked it down. Was she doing corner surveys for her new job, then? He approached her table from the side as Taylor talked to a woman, and gazed at the sign in front of the table.
RECIPE TASTE-TESTING! TASTE A DELICIOUS TREAT AND LET YOUR PREFERENCE BE KNOWN! RESEARCH SAMPLES FOR THE UPCOMING COOKBOOK, F IS FOR FLAVOR BY GRETCHEN PETTY-BUCHANAN.
“So did you like the lemon cake with the chocolate ganache in the middle layer or the lemon crème in the middle layer?” Taylor was asking, absorbed in her writing. She didn’t notice Loch standing nearby. That was fine. He could stare at her for a little longer, absorb every detail of her appearance. Memorize her lovely face and the way she licked her lips absently as she wrote.
“Chocolate,” the old woman told her, licking her fingers. “The other one was too lemony.”
“But it’s lemon cake,” Taylor said with a chuckle. “Shouldn’t it be lemony?”
“Yes, but chocolate makes everything better.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Taylor said, grinning. “I have your vote. Thank you so much.” She wrote a bit more, a lock of hair wishing in front of her face that Loch was dying to brush aside. She looked fantastic—her cheeks were ruddy with health, her smile was bright, and the capri pants she was wearing showed off her fantastic backside in the most mouthwatering of ways. He itched to touch her.
Instead, he approached the table.
“Hi there,” Taylor said without looking up. “Would you like to sample our lemon cake? We’re doing A/B testing and I have to warn you that if you have a nut, citrus, or dairy allergy you shouldn’t try any of . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked up.
The smile on her face died.
It was like a punch in the gut. Fuck. He’d done that to her.
“Taylor. Hi.” Loch wanted to caress her cheek, to see the smile return. He wanted the light to come back to her eyes. “It’s me.”
A flash of hurt crossed her face. “What are you doing here? I’m busy.” She started to write furiously and the lead on her pencil snapped. “Shit.”
What was he doing here? Wasn’t it obvious? Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted at all. He panicked, looking around for an excuse. “I’m here to try one of your samples, I guess.” He glanced down at the table. Little rounded, iced cakes were set out in pink and blue papers on the table, lined up like buttons. “Do I get one of A and one of B?”
“I’m not sure I want you to have any, but I guess that wouldn’t be fair.” She picked up one of the pink-papered cakes. “Here’s A.”
He leaned forward.
She shoved it into his face, missing his mouth and creaming most of his chin.
“I can’t tell if you meant to do that or if that was just coincidence,” Loch teased, grabbing a napkin off the corner of the table and wiping at his face. He’d act like it didn’t matter if she hated him or not, even though he was dying inside.
“I meant to do that.” She gave him a challenging look. “So there.”
He licked a bit of frosting from his fingers, watching her. She was scowling, but she wasn’t crying. Maybe . . . maybe she didn’t hate him as much as he thought. So he said, “A’s pretty delicious.”
“Want to try B?” Her eyebrows wiggled.
“Only if I can feed it to myself.”
“No deal.”
He gave her a rueful smile and spoke around the aching knot that had reappeared in his throat. “I deserved a cake in the face for how I treated you, but I can’t imagine it’s going to get you many more people here to sample.”
She cocked her head. “So you’re admitting you were a jerk?”
“I was thinking prick might have been a more apt term.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m going to agree with you on that one. I do think prick is the better term. I’m glad you’re admitting it.”