Chapter 15: He Who Tries to Fulfill Her Every Wish
The bakeshop was jammed packed when we arrived. It was near closing time, so the number of people should have been less. Yet judging from the line outside, whoever owns this bakeshop must be a good baker.
Duncan held my hand as we walked. I could see that the townspeople were staring at us. Well, they were looking at me rather than him though. He was the Laird after all, and displaying such public affection tends to raise a couple of eyebrows.
This made me uncomfortable as fuck. I tried tugging my hand out of his, but he ignored my efforts. Instead, he entwined our fingers together, making several women gasp in dismay.
I gave up. I mean, the man was making a statement, wasn't he?
Everyone knew me as Jane's protege. They were happy that someone was looking after The Belle. They were even happy that I had kids. The women...I stay away from them.
Not all though. The elderly ones love me and my little family. The teens liked the fact that I allow them to use the woods. As long as they do not vandalize and take care of the plants.
It was a win-win for me and the teens in the place. They have a safe place to think, I get to have some local help in taking care of the small forest on the property.
"You should stop the PDA, Duncan. People are staring," I told him.
Did he listen to me? No. He did the opposite, he tilted my head and kissed my lips in front of everyone.
Yep, definitely making a statement.
"No, I won't," he whispered in my ear. "Its' best that they know that you belong to me."
"I'm not a piece of property that you can own, Duncan," I replied.
Apart from me was irritated. I was not some object that needed to belong to someone. Another part of me was happy.
No man had the guts to tell me that I belonged to any of them. I am too independent, too headstrong, and too happy just to be me.
For a man like Duncan who was a successful businessman, a Laird, an outdated title, and a hell of a handsome man, to be interested in me, was baffling.
All I got from my retort was that sexy grin of his, and another quick kiss on my lips.
I could feel that everyone was secretly saying something about me. I was praying for the ground to open and swallow me. He was putting me in a situation I hated.
The center of everyone's attention.
"Do you have my aunt's number?" Duncan asked. My mount dropped and I could only stare at him.
"You don't have Jane's number?" I asked unsure of what I just heard.
"No," Duncan replied as he scanned the inside of the bakeshop, hoping to see his aunt. "Do you...never mind, I saw her."
He did see her, or was it she who saw him? Jane was all smiles when I looked at the big display window of the shop. What I cannot see though, were my kids.
Jane beckoned us to come inside. She smiled at me when she noticed that I was frowning. She must have guessed the reason I looked sourly.
I wanted to rush inside and ask where the kids were. But Duncan had other ideas. He slung his arm across my shoulder and leisurely walked inside the shop.
[Mapapatay ko talaga itong tao na ito. ~ I am definitely killing this man.] I thought, unconscious using my native language.
Wow. I used Filipino. Who would have thought that I would be using it after so many years? I stopped using it, although I still hear my kids using it but...
OMG, that is that wonderful smell?!
A mixture of butter, lemon, chocolate, and garlic hit my nose the second I stepped inside the shop.
Heaven.
The whole place was heaven in my eyes. It was not just a feast in the eye, but also to my olfactory nerve.
The myriad smells coming from the bread on display, and the scents coming from the kitchen were amazing.
On the left side of the shop were baskets of sour bread, baguettes, croissants, and dinner rolls. There was also some freshly made garlic bread.
Oh! Garlic bread!
Duncan must have seen me drooling because he was holding two trays with a bread tong on top.
When I looked at him, there was a teasing smile on his sexy lips of his. His eyes though had this gentle look on them. My face turned red in embarrassment.
Duncan was looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world for him.
I snatched the tray and tong and went to the garlic bread. My mouth was watering. Whoever baked and made these was good. I can see that each cut was oozing with liberal amounts of butter, garlic, and those green stuff.
Next, I took some croissants plain and chocolate. I passed by the center aisle where all the cupcakes and assorted kinds of sweet pastries were displayed.
I was debating whether to take the lemon bars or the mint brownies. I love them! Yet my growing waistline was telling me to limit my sugar intake.
Duncan, however, grabbed three of each and put them into his tray. His were also filled.
I shook my head and just took some cupcakes for the kids. When we reached the cashier, the cakes on the display made me look.
I drooled.
Because I felt Duncan wipe the side of my lips.
I looked up at him and he laughed, causing all of the people in the store to look at us.
"How many do you want?" He asked me.
"All." Without a hint of hesitation from my voice.
Yes, I am shameless. All nine cakes that were displayed on the counter were my favorite! How the heck will I choose?
On the top shelf was a decadent chocolate cake with chocolate chip buttercream, and a thick layer of dark chocolate ganache.
Next to it was a honeycomb cake with a lemon-flavored sponge cake and a light buttercream filling to counteract the sourness of the lemon.
The last of the top row was a green tea cake that was calling my name.
In the second row were cream-covered cakes.
A strawberry-filled dream, a kiwi and pear creation, and something that my kids love. Cookies and cream.
The last row was a Sans-rival cake. I need to ask what nuts they used. Having a tree nut allergy was a party popper! I can't even have baklava!
Then there was the pavlova and the key lime pie.
And Duncan wanted to choose? Is he crazy?
No. He was actually the rational one. I knew that my fridge could not carry all of those cakes. The max I could buy would be two. Three was pushing it.
"A slice of each?" I negotiated.
"I'm not sure if they have slices of those cakes, lass," Duncan replied. He took my tray alongside his and began to pull his wallet out of his pockets.
"I..."
"We will take the chocolate and...Nicole, Claude, do you want the Cookies and Cream one?"
I heard my kids' laughter behind the kitchen doorway. Not long after, the two poked their heads and answered Duncan yes.
What do I get? A wave. A freaking wave before they disappeared behind the doors again. I shook my head. As long as they
While Duncan was busy paying for the food haul, I caught a glimpse of one of the women behind the counter.
She was tall. like maybe a couple of inches taller than me. White blonde hair and eyes as blue as the cerulean sea. Her skin looked pale, but here was a California glow that my cousin describes.
She was not from Scotland that is for sure. With that glow about her, she can say that she is from the US.
It was not the glow of the skin that caught my attention. I'm not about to go lesbian, geeze. It was the way she flinched that got my eyes.
It was the same action that I have done six years ago. And when she looked at me, I understood why she reacted that way.
Her eyes have that haunted look about her. The same one I wore for the past eight years of my life.
The eye of someone who was hurt and was trying to survive.
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