Fall For You (Stitched Hearts #1)

I was eighteen when I first saw him.

Most kids my age were off to college, beginning a brand new phase of their lives, dreaming about a better future, and working toward the American dream. But that wasn’t me.

At least not yet.

I didn’t have that option for myself. But I sure as heck was working toward changing that. I knew it would take time, and I was prepared for it. I smiled at the new customer who had just walked in and welcomed the lady to Annabelle’s Bakery and Cafe. It was where I had been working for the past three months since I graduated from high school. I was saving up for my tuition by working extra hours, and the owner, Mrs. Cleveland, was really nice to me. It was her grandmother’s bakery that she inherited, and she ran it well, wanting to keep the business within their family line. Her daughter helped her out some days, but most of the time it was just me and the other employees who took care of the kitchen and other necessary tasks.

As I waited on the older lady who requested a red velvet muffin with a blueberry scone, I let my mind wander for a bit, thinking about what I could prepare for dinner. My dad worked night shifts almost every other day, and for the past year, he had been doing it more frequently than before.

It had begun a month after my mom left. Her abandonment hadn’t been a surprise to me, but that didn’t make it any less painful. She had always been more interested in the new dress she was purchasing at the mall with her friends or the next party she had been invited to by the social butterflies in the silly little club she was part of.

I was a mistake, supposedly. Born at an inconvenient time, as she never failed to remind me daily. Sometimes, the memory of her words muttered in that dismissive manner with her lips wrapped around a cigarette still cut me inside. But over time, the protective shell around my heart had grown a few more inches, and the hurt wasn’t so bad.

It was bearable.

Now, I plastered a smile on my face and handed over the order to the lady, and rang her up. Glancing over at the muffin display, I made a note to refill the space and add another scone to the tray. After handing her the receipt for her purchase, I wished her a good evening and made a quick trip to the kitchen.

Today, Mrs. Cleveland was here. And she was baking. I enjoyed watching her. She seemed to be in her element when she did so. A genuine smile formed on my face this time when I approached her, needing to restock the displays.

“Beatrix, my dear. Could you pass me the sugar, please?” she asked without looking up. The woman had the sense of a ninja. She knew exactly what went on in every corner of the store, and she could be almost scary if she wasn’t so sweet.

“Here it is, Mrs. Cleveland,” I placed the can of sugar close to where she was kneading the dough to prepare the jalapeno and cheese bread that I had come to love. Around her, a few of the other bakers bustled around, preparing the cakes, pastries, doughnuts, and a variety of other items that had been ordered by customers online and that would soon fill up the rest of the shelves in the front of the store.

“Thank you, dear. You’re here for another hour, correct?”

I nodded, “Yes, I’ll handle the register until eleven. Noah will be coming in to take over then.”

Mrs. Cleveland glanced up at me and gave me her pretty smile. She was a beautiful lady. Though she was already in her late sixties, she had the energy of a twenty-year-old, with dark blonde hair that framed her round face, and eyes the color of the ocean. She was like the grandmother I never had, and on occasions, she told me how I reminded her of her daughter when she had been younger.

I soaked up her kind words like a dry sponge, loving them and wishing sometimes that they would be true.

But life wasn’t like that. We didn’t always get what we wanted, and I learned that the tough way.

She reached up and touched my cheek briefly, leaving an ever-so-slight smudge of vanilla essence on my skin. I bit back a smile. “Thank you, Beatrix. I hope you slept well last night.”

I reddened a little bit.

“Yes, I did, thank you. I’m okay now,” I reassured her, smiling brighter when I saw the hint of worry in her eyes.

After a moment, she nodded hesitatingly and smiled, going back to kneading.

I picked up the tray of muffins and scones I needed and went back to the front of the store. A few minutes later, I had everything restocked and took a brief break from customers to wipe down the front of my cash register. It was easy to have sugar and flour smears all over the glass if we weren’t careful. Many of the bakers didn’t alternate with shifts at the register, but sometimes, when Noah and I were busy, they would jump in to help out.

I was making a mental checklist of the ingredients I had at home – and if what I remembered was correct, I could make a quick dish of pasta with tomato basil and garlic sauce. When one of the bakers, Gordan, bought out a tray of baked cinnamon rolls, I smiled at him, quickly getting rid of the paper towels I was using to wipe off a particularly stubborn stain of chocolate right next to the card payment machine. I shook my head, wondering how it even got there in the first place.

I vaguely remember Mrs. Cleveland bringing out a donut for one of her regulars, the kind that had chocolate filled inside. She called itChocolate Bomb, because along with the filling, it also had a thick layer of milk chocolate on the top, with a few sprinkles of chocolate chips. They were my absolute favorite, given my obsession with chocolate.

Maybe she dropped something then.

The bell at the door chimed, and I looked up to see Noah walking in. He had his headphones on, as usual, and was wearing his favorite pristine white hoodie that had theWalker Worldsymbol painted on the front. He waved when he saw me and then grinned at the surprised look on my face. He was an hour early for his shift.

I’ve known Noah since we were kids.River Valley, Indiana, was a small town with a population of around 3700 individuals. While I didn’t despise the comfort it gave me to grow up in a place where neighbors didn’t feel it necessary to lock their doors at night, given that everyone knew everyone else, I sometimes did wonder if I’d missed out. I was eager to go see the city, and I hoped my plan of saving up would help put me through one semester of college, at least to start with. I would figure out the rest later.

When Noah rounded the corner of the register, I picked up Gordon’s tray and slid it through the display shelf, making sure its edges lined up with the rest of the trays.

“Bee, happy to see me?”

I rolled my eyes, grinning nonetheless. “Why are you so early?”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter and looking to the back where the door led to the kitchen. “Ruth had to go in early to the store; her dad needed the extra help today, with her brother gone for the rest of the month.”

I mimicked a fake pout to tease him, “Aw, lover boy got kicked out, I see.”

He gave me a mock glare, the smile on his face giving him away. “Shut up.”

Glancing at the front of the store, he asked, “Is there anything I can help with? Since I’m here anyway.”

I looked around for a moment before I remembered. “I was about to go make the lemonade.”

Noah slipped his headphones into his backpack. “I can do that. You can stay here and take care of the customers. Deal?”

I hesitated, fighting against my urge not to let anyone else do what I felt was my responsibility.

“Okay,” I said, “if you’re absolutely sure?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am, stop worrying.”

I shot him a grateful smile and went back to checking if the other end of the counter with the boxes and carryout bags was well stocked for the day.

The doorbell chimed again, and I saw a middle-aged woman walk in. The place was empty, except for the previous customer who was enjoying her treats at a window that faced the street.

Already thinking about my next job, I put on a smile on my face and said out of habit, “Welcome! What can I get you?”

The woman approached me slowly, almost like she was being cautious, her wide eyes darting to the left and then to the right. She wasn’t a regular, and she smiled back at me, hesitatingly, wringing her fingers like she couldn’t stay still.

I could feel my smile falter when I noticed she looked almost… scared.

The chime of the doorbell startled me, and I looked up again, going still when I saw the person who had just walked in. He was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, with sunglasses covering his eyes, and a ball cap pulled low on his head. I could see the ink that covered his forearms before disappearing into the sleeves of his shirt. He strode with purpose toward the woman, touching her back first, before grabbing her arm, which made her look back in surprise, and made my hackles rise.

I heard him say in a chastising tone, “I asked you not to leave. Why did you-“

I watched the woman shake her head, raising her hand in a signal to stop.

“Not now, Ezra.”

The woman moved away from him, slipping out of his hold, and came closer to the counter.

I was taken aback when I saw the tears shining in her eyes.

I looked back at the guy who had his jaw clenched and his arms crossed across his chest. He was obviously disapproving of what she was doing.

I wasn’t sure what made me say it. Maybe it was the fact that we were a small-knit community, and we always looked out for each other. And it seemed like this woman was in distress.

I couldn’t help the words that spilled out of my mouth, loud enough for him to hear.

“Ma’am, is he bothering you?”