Chapter 1

“You gonna do something with that loaf of bread, or are you just going to stare at it until it bursts into flames?”

Megan Flannigan looked up from the burnt loaf of banana bread currently sitting on her bakery’s counter to gaze into the green eyes of her greatest nemesis, Caleb Thornton. Her heart fluttered into her throat, which annoyed her beyond anything.

“I was just thinking,” she retorted. “Until you interrupted me.”

“Now I’m curious what you were thinking about with that frown on your face.”

She opened her mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Her injured hand—cut a week prior on one of the many kitchen knives in her bakery—tingled. Or maybe it merely ached. She wasn’t sure how to parse her feelings about much of anything anymore.

Caleb Thornton never failed to rouse both her irritation and her desire in equal measures. With his careless good looks, green eyes, and angelic grin, he could get the devil himself to do what he wanted with his charm. Couple that with his police uniform, and he was a veritable bombshell of masculine attraction.

Which was the precise reason why Megan really, really hated him.

“That’s none of your business,” she replied primly. Taking the burnt banana bread, she tossed it into the trash with a sigh. At his raised eyebrows, she explained, “My timer broke, and I didn’t realize it until I’d burnt the loaf.”

“It didn’t look that burned.”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to eat it. I can’t serve that to my customers, anyway.”

Megan had opened her bakery, The Rise and Shine, a year ago, and although she was hardly an expert in running a small business, she’d managed to attain enough success that she wasn’t afraid that she’d have to close her doors. After working at odd jobs here and there in her early twenties, she’d made the terrifying decision to quit her most-hated office job to start her bakery. She’d begun baking only a few years prior, and she’d discovered that she loved it.

“Can I get you something? Or are you just here to lurk?” she asked.

Caleb barked a laugh. “How’s your hand?” When she’d cut it, he’d been with her, and he’d bandaged it himself.

Megan could still feel his fingers against her palm, warm and rough and gentle.

She showed him her hand, which was healing nicely. “It’s fine. No stitches needed. Although I’ve made sure to keep any knives from sitting in the sink. I’d rather not have a repeat incident.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Megan realized with an indrawn breath that they were alone in the bakery. Again. Caleb’s younger sister and Megan’s one employee, Jubilee Thornton, was running an errand. It was the hour before school was let out, so Megan’s usual parents and kids that came in for an afternoon snack hadn’t arrived yet.

How did she always end up alone with Caleb?

“I’d recommend the carrot cake,” she said, to answer a question he hadn’t asked. She reached inside the case and began to place a piece on a plate. “This version doesn’t have raisins. I think more people hate raisins than like them.” She knew she was babbling. She clapped her mouth shut, trying not to blush.

He took the proffered cake. “I agree. Raisins are the worst.” He picked up a fork and began to eat the cake. When he groaned out loud, it sent shivers down Megan’s spine.

“You do have to pay for that.”

He reached into his back pocket and handed her a five-dollar bill. “That cover it?”

“Good enough.” She finished the transaction and said in a brisk voice, “I need to start up another loaf of banana bread before the afternoon rush. Do you need anything else?”

“No, ma’am. I’m good with my cake right now.”

Megan went to the back to start a second batch of banana bread. If another customer came in, she’d hear the front door bell jingle. Or Caleb would yell for her. She rolled her eyes. Caleb was like an annoying skin disease: no matter how hard she tried, she could not get rid of him.

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her face at the idea of him as a skin disease. He’d love hearing that from her. As she grabbed the various ingredients for her bread, she entered into a kind of haze of baking: she was all hands and movements, her thoughts dissipating for a few blessed moments. The Caleb Thorntons of the world wouldn’t bother her right now.

She heard footsteps right as she was about to turn on her mixer.

“Why are you back here?” she asked Caleb. “You know you don’t work here, right?”

“And why are you always so annoyed to see me?”

She did not want to have this conversation. If he didn’t know why she hated him, that was his problem, not hers. She turned her mixer on, effectively drowning out his voice.

He said something next to her, but she couldn’t hear it. She shook her head and yelled, “I can’t hear you!”

“I said I think we should call a truce!” he shouted.

She stopped the mixer. The silence stretched between them. “What?”

“I think we should call a truce. Aren’t you tired of all of this?” He shrugged when she just stared. “I know you hate me or something, but I think it’s time to set it aside. Water under the bridge and all that.”

“Maybe for you,” she said acidly. “It’s easy to say it’s all water under the bridge when you were the one who broke the bridge in the first place.”

“Is that what that phrase is referencing?”

“Don’t change the subject. You know exactly what I mean.” She turned on the mixer again, her thoughts in disarray. Caleb Thornton represented so many things to her: disappointment, shame, resentment. Desire. Longing. Insanity.

When she turned off the mixer and began pouring the batter into a bread tin, Caleb said, “Look, I’ve asked you this before: is this about what happened ten years ago? When I arrested you?”

She whirled. Batter splattered onto the counter; she swore. “I am not having this conversation.”

“You never want to have any conversation, Megan.”

She refused to go back to that night. That stupid, stupid night, when she’d humiliated herself, and Caleb had been witness to it. When she looked into his eyes, she wondered if he thought about that night as much as she did.

“It’s everything that’s happened between us. Something happens, and then you push me away.” She bit her tongue, unwilling to admit how much he’d hurt her.

But despite what she wanted to believe about him, Caleb managed to be more perceptive than she gave him credit. “Megan…” he said softly.

She held up a hand. “I don’t want to have this conversation. I’m never going to be your biggest fan. Just get over it. I have.”

What a liar, she thought.

She saw a tic in his jaw begin, and she knew he was getting frustrated with her. He always did.

“Considering your inability to have a conversation with me that doesn’t involve sniping at me—“

“Because you always insult me!”

“When have I insulted you? Tell me. Because I sure as hell can’t remember.”

She opened the oven door and put the banana bread inside, the door closing with a slam. “If you can’t figure it out, then I can’t help you.”

He groaned. “You are the most aggravating woman!”

“And you get on my nerves! Please leave. I have a business to run, in case you forgot.”

Opening his mouth to retort, Caleb seemed to think better of it. And luckily for the both of them, Jubilee came into the kitchen with bags of ingredients.

“They didn’t have the usual brand of butter that you like—oh, Caleb. What are you doing here?” Jubilee asked.

With her dark hair and green eyes, Jubilee looked so much like Caleb that sometimes Megan had a hard time being around the girl. But unlike her brother, Jubilee was cheerful and helpful, and Megan had enjoyed getting to know her. Jubilee had been sheltered for most of her life, especially after multiple bouts with childhood cancer, and she’d only recently moved out of her parents’ house and begun supporting herself. The newly added independence had only allowed her naturally sunny personality to shine through.

“I was just going, actually.” Caleb turned to go before saying, “I’ll see you later, Jubi.”

The two women watched Caleb stalk out, not saying anything. Megan began to wash dishes, hoping that Jubilee wouldn’t ask questions.

As usual, Megan’s hopes were never meant to be.

“What was that about? He looked pissed. Why is it that every time you two are together, my brother gets angry and you get…well, just as angry?”

Megan scrubbed a pan with a special kind of vigor. “Your brother is an annoying asshole, and he gets on my nerves. That’s all. Did you get brown sugar?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Jubilee pointed a spoon at her. “Tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to get it out of my brother instead.”

Megan chewed on the inside of her cheek. Part of her wanted to confide in someone, but the other part of her knew very well that saying anything to Caleb’s little sister would be bad news. Megan hadn’t even told her own sister, Sara, about everything between her and Caleb.

She shrugged. “Nothing. We just don’t get along.”

“And I was born yesterday.”

Jubilee began to put things away while Megan washed dishes. She didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Megan almost breathed a sigh of relief that she’d decided to drop the subject.

“You know, it’s funny,” Jubilee remarked, “Caleb is probably the most easy-going of my brothers. Except maybe Harrison, although since he’s the oldest, he’s had his share of responsibilities. Caleb was my favorite as a kid, though. He would play games with me and bring me coloring books when I was in the hospital during treatments.” Jubilee tossed the shopping bags into the catch-all bin for bags. “So what I’m trying to say is that he isn’t the type of guy to get riled that easily. Unless it’s about people dressing their pets in Halloween costumes. He really hates that.”

Megan stopped washing dishes. Closing her eyes, she saw in her mind’s eye two incidents, almost a decade apart. She thought of touches and kisses and desires concealed and unleashed, and she wondered if she would ever get them out of what felt like the very fiber of her being.

She didn’t know how to respond to Jubilee’s question. To her relief, she heard the front door bell jingle, signaling customers.

“Can you go get that?” she asked Jubilee. “This banana bread will be done soon, and I need to work on inventory.”

“Okay, but don’t think this is over. You don’t know how stubborn I can be.” Jubilee smiled then, which made Megan smile as well. “Okay, maybe you can. You’ve known my family for long enough.”

After Jubilee left to take care of the customers, Megan sat on a stool and waited for her banana bread to finish. I do know how stubborn you Thorntons can be, she thought, and it’s been the bane of my existence for longer than anyone realizes.

Megan didn’t sleep that night. She dreamed of Caleb, and she couldn’t get the heated image out of her brain no matter how hard she tried. Tired and grumpy, she got to the bakery an hour later than usual. She yawned as she approached the store. Then she stopped in her tracks when she saw the shattered glass covering the pavement.

She rushed toward the storefront. Gasping, she saw that one of the windows had been broken, and stepping over the broken glass carefully so she could unlock the front door, she took in the damage.

Chairs and tables had been scattered, while the cash register had been ransacked for cash. A few baked goods that had been left in the case over night had been tossed, and frosting and crumbs and sugar covered the floor and counters.

Her heart beating fast, Megan made her way to the back. The kitchen was worse off then the bakery: bags of flour and sugar had been dumped, while cartons of eggs had been smashed. She stood there and drank it all in, barely able to comprehend what she was seeing.

The safe. Had they found the safe?

She rushed to the tiny office adjacent to the kitchen, unlocking the door with shaking fingers. She had always instructed Jubilee to keep any remaining cash in the safe when she closed up. She rushed inside to see the safe on its side and the back of it dented. After multiple tries to open it—her hands were shaking too badly to input the numbers correctly—she saw a stack of cash, checks and receipts inside.

She let out a breath of relief. Although there wasn't a ton of cash inside, it would’ve been a difficult loss to recoup at any rate. Megan closed the door of the safe and stood up, only to grab at the desk to steady herself. Her body wasn’t working like it should. She realized, only slightly aware of herself, that she was probably in shock.

She barely remembered calling the cops. She’d known there was a good chance that Caleb would show up, and as she sat outside, staring at the rainbow of shattered glass on the pavement, she almost wished he would be the one on duty. He’d distract her. He’d annoy her so much that she wouldn’t think about how someone had deliberately come inside her store and ripped it apart like some human tornado.

Tears threatened, hot and humiliating. She choked back a sob. She couldn’t break down right now. Not before she could get home and be alone in her grief.

She considered calling Sara, but what could her sister do? Besides, Sara had done enough for Megan throughout her life. She’d practically raised her when their mother Ruth had been deep in her alcoholism, and Megan had tried not to rely on Sara so much. She could take care of herself.

She heard the sirens, and then she heard a voice asking, “Megan? Are you all right?”

Looking up, she gazed into the green eyes of Caleb Thornton. For the first time, she felt only relief at seeing him.