The Dare Collection: March 2018 - Nicola Marsh Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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worthless and useless like nothing else could.

      At the time, I’d resented Remy for not being around, for not seeing enough, for not doing anything. I’d hated him deep down for being caught up in his apprenticeship and his schooling and his dreams of running a patisserie one day.

      But as Dad’s emotional torture had escalated, I’d been glad Remy hadn’t been around to notice. Dad had ruined my life; I didn’t want him tainting Remy’s as well. Remy was a good guy. He looked after me when he could. I was lucky to have him as a brother.

      After Dad died, Remy had broached the topic of my obvious animosity towards our father once. I’d ended up throwing Dad’s prized beer stein against the wall, smashing it to smithereens and laughing hysterically. Remy had put my tantrum down to grief and the teenage hormones of a fifteen-year-old running wild but, thankfully, he’d never brought up the subject since.

      So I summoned those infamous acting skills now to force a nonchalant grin. ‘It’s been great working alongside her.’

      Remy’s eyes narrowed, pinning me with a glare that said he didn’t believe my bullshit, not this time. ‘I’m not talking about work and you know it.’

      ‘We’ve had fun.’ I shrugged, feigning indifference I didn’t feel, wishing that damn ache in my chest would quit sooner rather than later. ‘We’re good.’

      ‘Had, as in past tense?’ Judgement laced his tone. ‘So you’re over?’

      Feeling like a prick for lying to my brother yet again, I nodded. ‘You know me. I’m not built to last.’

      ‘You’re full of crap.’ Remy snorted, shook his head. ‘She’s a great girl. You’re staying in town. Why not see where this can go?’

      I knew exactly where this would go. Down the toilet.

      ‘I’ll get the car,’ I said, stalking away.

      My usual MO and I’d stick to it.

      I just hoped Abby would understand.

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      Abby

      ENJOYING A RARE lull after the morning rush, I sipped on a soy latte in the kitchen, mentally sorting the baking tasks for this afternoon.

      However, every time I got to item three on my to-do list, thoughts of Tanner would intrude, ensuring all my concentration focussed on him and him alone.

      It was no use denying it any longer. I’d fallen for him.

      And I’d almost made the fatal mistake of telling him this morning.

      It had been so comfortable, so easy, waking up next to him, making idle chatter about our day ahead. There’d been a moment, a drawn-out fraught moment, where I’d thought he was on the same page as me. He’d stared into my eyes, taken my hand and opened his mouth to say something.

      I’d held my breath, waiting for him to say he didn’t want this to end. That he wanted to explore a relationship. That he wanted me for more than a few weeks.

      Instead, he’d raised my hand to his lips, brushed a kiss across the back of it, before rolling on top of me and consuming me whole.

      He did it very well, distracting me with his body, bringing me to life in a way I’d never dreamed possible. So I’d given over to the pleasure, biding my time.

      I’d tell him. Soon. And hope to God he wouldn’t run.

      He’d left my apartment early, citing an appointment, but something had been off. Almost like he’d closed down after our monumental wake-up sex.

      Maybe he’d sensed my impending revelation? Maybe he’d been tired from the few hours’ sleep we’d got yet again? Whatever the reason, he’d be back to help out any second and I’d keep things strictly professional in the kitchen before asking him to a cosy dinner tonight.

      Where I’d lay it all on the line.

      The back door creaked open and I straightened, my hand drifting unconsciously to my hair and tucking stray strands into the net holding it off my face.

      Tanner strode through the door, his expression unreadable as he held it wide open and waited.

      ‘Hey, what’s... Remy?’ I squealed as my boss hobbled into the kitchen, a grin as wide as the Harbour Bridge splitting his face. ‘What are you doing here?’

      I flew across the kitchen to give him a tender hug, surprised but thrilled to see him.

      ‘Doc discharged me early because I’m healing well. So I’m back on deck.’ He mock frowned and glared around the kitchen. ‘Lucky for you, everything seems to be in order.’

      I whacked him on the arm. ‘Tanner and I have not only held down the fort, we’ve filled major orders and turned a handy profit.’

      ‘Remind me to give you a raise.’ Remy’s eyes twinkled with warmth. ‘Seriously, kid, you’ve done an amazing job and I can’t be more grateful.’ He half turned to Tanner, who hadn’t moved from the door. ‘To both of you.’

      ‘He’s back to the mushy stuff,’ Tanner said, rolling his eyes, and I chuckled. ‘Let’s get him set up on a stool or chair or something, so he can start issuing orders and be a general bossy pain in the ass.’

      The bell from the front of the patisserie tinkled, indicating a customer. ‘I’ll have to get that. Makayla popped out and Shaun called in sick today.’

      Remy waved me away. ‘Go. Tanner will get me set up.’

      ‘Great to have you back.’ I gave him another impulsive hug before bounding down the corridor towards the front of the patisserie.

      And pulled up short when I saw who the customer was.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ I half closed the door between the front and the kitchen, not wanting Remy or Tanner to hear me send my mother on her way. ‘You need to leave. Now.’

      To my mother’s credit, she didn’t flinch from my icy order. ‘I’ve come to apologise.’

      ‘For what? Twenty-two years of not believing in me? For wanting me to be your clone? For shoving your expectations on me, then treating me like crap with the silent treatment if I didn’t give in immediately? For not supporting me through a loveless marriage? For having the gall to ask me to come back and live in that charade, all for the sake of your precious ego?’

      Sadness downturned her crimson-lipsticked mouth and she shook her head. ‘I deserve that.’

      ‘And a whole lot more. But this isn’t the time or place. I’m working.’

      ‘I know.’ She glanced around, approval in her brusque nod. ‘I used to love walking past this place, but I never dared enter for fear of putting on two pounds just by looking.’

      Mum had been past here but never come in? Maybe she did possess a soul after all and had wanted to keep an eye on me? Then again, if she really cared, she would’ve wanted to talk, to hug, to forgive. Instead, she’d waited twelve long months before confronting me at uni, demanding I kowtow yet again.

      I hated the flare of hope deep inside when I’d first spied her here today. Because after all I’d been through with my parents, I should know better. She hadn’t succeeded in convincing me to bow to the Prendigast way first time around; today would be round two.

      She walked to the front display cabinet and trailed her fingers over the glass. ‘Everything looks so delectable. Those tiny macarons. The croissants. The tarts. I’m drooling.’

      ‘I made all that,’ I said, squaring my shoulders, expecting a put-down or a backhanded compliment at best. ‘It’s what I love doing.’

      ‘You’re lucky, following your dream.’ She

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