Holding Out for a Hero (Baytown Heroes #9)

Chapter 13

13

Brad narrowed his gaze at her, his confusion at an all-time high. Antiquated head? Services rendered? What the ever-loving fuck? “You want to explain?”

Bess's eyes widened, and she stared, her face frozen in a stupefied expression. “Um… explain?” she squeaked.

“Yeah. Start with why you were so pissed and what the hell you meant by services rendered?”

“You left the following morning without waking me to tell me you were leaving. I mean… it seemed odd that you weren’t in your own home. Most people slip out of someone else’s home. But seeing a wad of cash on the nightstand and your note… it was insulting. To think you assumed you needed to pay for having a great time ?” Her fingers made air quotes around the words “great time.”

His chin jerked back. “I told you I got called in to work. I told you I wanted to see you again, we could make plans for dinner, and if you felt the same, then leave me your number. Since you didn’t, I figured that was your choice even though I would have liked to have taken you out.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s not what your note said!”

“Yes, it was,” he argued, punctuating each word.

“Your note said, ‘I had a great time. This is for you.’ And it was lying next to the cash.”

The air left his lungs as frustration shot through him. Functioning on too little sleep and almost no caffeine at this point, he thought about booting her out of his vehicle so he could go home, shower, change, and spend his day with criminals. At least they make sense! “Bess, that was the second page of the note.”

Her head tilted to the side as she scrunched her nose, and he wished she didn’t look so adorable even when he was pissed.

“Second page?” Her words were laced with incredulity.

“Yes, the second page. I got called into work. I dressed and went into the kitchen to allow you to keep sleeping. I wrote a note that said exactly what I told you—I wanted to take you out and hoped you would leave your number. I laid it on the nightstand so you would see it. I had my wallet and pulled out the money to cover our drinks and food. I wrote a second note that reiterated I’d had a good time, and the money was for the previous night.”

A deep pink blush rose from Bess's throat to her hairline. “Oh. I… I never saw the first note. It wasn’t on the nightstand. Maybe it was under the money… or fell off… or I… oh, shit. I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”

He shook his head, feeling both gut-punched and mind-fucked. Of all the crazy-ass reasons he’d come up with for why she had been so pissed, her not finding the whole note and misinterpreting the one she did read was not on his list. “Why the hell would you assume I’d leave you money to pay for sex?”

“I don’t know,” she cried, her chest heaving, hands waving in the air. “It was stupid. I… I don’t know. Belinda tells me I sometimes react before I should?—”

“You think?”

“Look, Brad, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got it wrong and made assumptions. I’m sorry I was insulting in my response.” Her shoulders slumped. “You’ve been a really good guy throughout the past few days, and… well, I’m just sorry about everything.”

He was unsure what to say as fatigue made it difficult to discern the different emotions flying through him. She placed her hand on the door handle, and he suddenly felt the urge not to close all communication. “Look, maybe we’re not exactly friends, but can we at least not be mortal enemies?”

That elicited a small chuckle from her, and she turned to look at him, holding his gaze for a long moment. A multitude of emotions seemed to pass through her eyes, but she finally nodded. “Yeah. That’d be good… not mortal enemies.” She looked out the window, and a heavy sigh fled her lips. “Listen, I have to go, Brad. If I don't get started, my éclairs will be late getting into the display case.” She opened the door and hopped down, then looked at him. “I really am sorry.” After closing the door, she darted to her shop and let herself into the front door. She turned and stood, still visible behind the glass barrier, then lifted her hand and waved.

He waved in return, then sighed just as heavily as she had, disbelief still coursing through him at the incredible cock-up due to a lost message. “Christ,” he muttered as he started his vehicle. Pulling out onto the street, he thought of the lost months. But as he drove, he knew with his family’s recent arrival, it had probably been for the best. Yet he couldn’t help but think of what might have been with the infuriating and equally intriguing woman.

A few days later, Bess watched eagerly out the kitchen door toward the front of the bakery, waiting for Belinda’s arrival. Her sister should still be recuperating, but she had received a call from a potential new photography client and agreed to meet them at the bakery. With Aaron’s father and Bess in attendance, they would ensure Belinda didn’t overtax herself.

The bell over the door rang, and Bess darted over to wrap her arms around Belinda, breathing deeply as she was overcome with emotions, knowing how close she came not to having her sister to hold. Finally, the two leaned back and smiled at each other. “Come on. You can sit near the front and wait for your appointment.”

As soon as Belinda was settled, Bess made sure her sister had coffee, then went into the back. She peeked out when the woman arrived for Belinda’s appointment, pleased that the two of them were planning a photography shoot for another wedding. Even with the ongoing case Aaron and the other detectives were working to find out who might have shot at Belinda, it felt good to think of them moving forward.

She turned her head to the oven when Lottie called out, “Bess, you’ve got a phone call. They say it’s important.”

She picked up the phone in the kitchen. “This is Bess of Bess's Bakery, how may I help you?“

“Bess! This is Brad. Is Belinda there?”

“Yes, she’s out in the shop talking to a woman. Tell Aaron not to worry, his dad is here, too?—”

“Bess, I need you to listen carefully. Stay calm, and don’t say anything to give this away.”

The instant he said the word “calm,” her heart started pounding, and adrenaline rushed through her body. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

“The woman is a murderer. She’s the one who’s after Belinda. We’re coming in, and I’m on my way. I’m almost there. But her husband said she plans on using poison, and she may be armed. Don’t let Belinda drink anything?—”

Bess slammed the phone down without giving Brad a chance to say anything else. Her gaze widely darted about the kitchen in search of—she had no idea. Her mind raced to decide what needed to be done. Seeing a small tray, she grabbed it and plated a couple of hot apple turnovers. Sucking in a cleansing breath, she plastered a smile on her face and walked into the front. She breezed over to Belinda’s table and set the tray down heavily, purposely sending Belinda’s coffee cup flying to the side. The liquid spilled out over the table.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry,” Bess exclaimed.

Belinda took to her feet, reaching for napkins.

“I’ve got this, Sis. Don’t hurt yourself.” Bess grabbed a wad and began to dab the liquid on the table. Belinda looked at her, her brows lowered in confusion, but Bess simply smiled wider, not knowing what else to do.

Suddenly, sheriff's department vehicles pulled to the front of the store. Belinda looked over in surprise, saying, “What is going on?—”

Bess instinctively moved closer to Belinda, but the woman’s sudden leap from her chair caught her by surprise. The woman pulled a small gun from her purse, pointing it directly at Belinda.

Bess gasped, her heart stopping first, and then it began to pound furiously. She stared at the weapon, her mind blank as to what to do. A sound came from the kitchen, and she glanced at other law enforcement coming through the back. She’d never seen one weapon in her bakery, and now, almost everyone appeared armed.

With her gaze firmly on the gun pointing at Belinda, Bess swallowed deeply, trying to still the racehorse hoofbeats of her heart that she was sure everyone could hear. When the woman’s attention was diverted as she was ordered to put the gun down, Bess could see in her hard eyes that the woman had no plans to acquiesce. So, Bess simply reacted. Leaping forward, she slammed the tray down against the woman’s hands, causing the gun to fly onto the floor.

Belinda flipped the table toward the woman before she was pulled to safety by Aaron’s dad, but Bess was filled with red-hot rage that blinded her to everything other than revenge.

When the woman bent to grab the gun, Bess knocked her to the floor. “You bitch! You pointed that gun at my sister!” She wanted to hit the woman, but it took both hands to hold her on the floor.

Suddenly, arms came from behind, and Bess found herself dangling above the floor, a strong arm wrapped around her stomach. Her arms and legs were still kicking.

“Chill! Chill! We’ve got her.”

It took a moment for the words to penetrate her rage-fogged mind and even longer to recognize who was saying them. Another arm wrapped around her upper chest, and her feet finally stopped kicking but still dangled above the floor.

“Bess, easy. Easy.”

Her feet finally touched the floor, and she was pulled around by Brad’s hands on her shoulders. He loomed over her, his face red and his expression angry, once again the dragon. “What the hell were you thinking? We had a shot, and you smacked her with a tray! You could’ve been killed!”

Red painted her vision, and her hands planted on her hips. “Well, I wasn’t, was I? Anyway, Belinda knocked the table over on the crazy bitch, and I don’t see you yelling at her! I had to save my sister!”

“You could’ve gotten both of you killed!”

“If you were doing such a good job, why did this person even get here in the first place?” Her hands shook, but she managed to jab him in the chest with her finger.

She looked over to see Belinda being held and comforted by Aaron. She rushed past Brad and the others crowded in her shop to get to Belinda. “Are you okay, Sis?”

The two reached out simultaneously, grabbing hands, then bursting into tears as they hugged. Bess blocked out everything other than the sound of Belinda’s crying, knowing it meant she was alive. Finally, they leaned back, and their eyes locked. Assuring her sister was okay, Bess ushered her to sit as Aaron wrapped his arm around Belinda. Before she stepped back, Belinda leaned closer to Bess and whispered, “What’s going on with you and the detective?”

Overcome with conflicting emotions, Bess shook her head. “Oh, him? Nothing. He’s just… him!” she whispered in return. Even with the mass of people in her shop, she could feel Brad’s stare still glowering toward her.

Her head jerked around as she spied Lottie talking to one of the deputies. “I need to go see if my employees are freaked.” Now that she knew Belinda was taken care of and the crazy woman was under arrest, she headed behind the counter, hoping to put space between her and the infuriating Detective Stowe. Friends? We might’ve declared a truce the other night, but we’re more likely to kill each other!