AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Did you pick a lot of apples?” he asks, more than a hint of amusement in his voice.
I nod, knowing full well what he’s doing. He's fishing, trying to piece together the puzzle of my sudden absence. I loved the visit, but Hershel and Ethal were also the perfect cover. I was able to not only go home, but also make my way to the home of the woman who's lodged herself firmly under my skin.
But I’m not playing anymore. I’m not going to hesitate for another moment. My plan is ready to execute. Because I'm done waiting. Isla will be mine, and I know exactly how to make that happen. No matter what her brother thinks, no matter how risky the move might be, I'll do whatever it takes. Because one thing's for certain—I've never been so sure about anything in my life.
The flicker of the screen casts a soft glow across my office, shadows dancing against the elegant walls. On it, Isla's hands move deftly, molding dough and drizzling caramel with an artist's grace. The video is simple, unassuming, yet I can't tear my eyes away. Her laughter rings through the speakers, light and infectious, and for a moment, I'm transported right there into her kitchen, basking in the warmth of her presence.
“And there you go! Salted caramel apple pie bars,” she says, her tone triumph as she speaks to the camera, her smile beaming satisfaction and a hint of pride. My mouth waters, but it's not just the thought of sinking my teeth into those decadent layers that has my heart rate picking up. It's the memory of her taste, sweet and intoxicating, more addictive than any dessert she could ever create.
With a deep sigh, I step out of my office and head for the bar. I’ve spent two days cooped up and catching up on work. Tonight, I’m going to my other job.
At the bar, I’m met with Liam’s curious gaze. I make my way to him, asking if he has any tasks for me to do. He shakes his head. “Everything’s ready, boss.”
I clap him on the shoulder, appreciative that I can count on him to get things ready. “Did Vice help?” I ask, thinking about how I’d banished him to the bar so he’d stop pestering me about my trip.
Liam nods.
The door opens and we both turn to see Isla smiling at one of the bouncers before making her way to us. “I'm back,” she says, her voice steady but her gaze flitting about the room, avoiding mine.
Vice, his nose for mischief clearly leading him, appears from the back room.
“Welcome back,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. I study her face for any sign of distress. “Is your mother alright?”
“Thankfully, yes.” She nods, a strand of her hair falling forward, begging to be tucked behind her ear. But I know better than to touch her.
“I’m glad, Isla,” Liam says before moving away from us.
Vice shifts beside me, his eyes darting from Isla to me, a knowing look on his face. He's no fool; the tension between her and me is thick enough to cut with a knife. She won’t even look at me, and I can’t stop staring at her.
But our conversation remains surface-deep. It’s almost as if we think that politeness and distance will extinguish the chemistry between us. Yet beneath it all, there's an undercurrent pulling us closer—a memory of a kiss shared in her quiet, childhood room. A kiss that branded itself onto my soul, electric and possessive, yet tender and sweet.
It was a kiss like no other, a collision of hunger and adoration that left me reeling, craving the next taste of her lips. A kiss I'm dying to feel again, to lose myself in. I want to get lost in her and explore this connection.
“Good,” I say, my voice steadying as I push back the tide of emotions threatening to spill over. I want nothing more than to grab her, kiss her, then throw her over my shoulder and carry her out. “I'm glad to hear she's doing well and that you’re back.”
She offers a sweet smile before turning to leave. But the image of her, so close yet so distant, lingers with me, fueling the need to make her my own.
Her voice is soft as she makes her way to Vice. “Thank you for okaying my time off,” she says, her tone grateful.
“Of course,” Vice responds with a nod, his sharp eyes tracking her every move. I can’t contain the stab of jealously I feel, but I try to tamp it down.
She smiles at him and turns away, her footsteps quiet as she heads to the back room.
The moment she's out of sight, the air shifts, tension snapping like a bear trap. Vice's gaze pins me in place, unyielding and aware there’s more than I’ve told him. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened between you two?”
I lift both shoulders in a guarded shrug, keeping my expression carefully neutral. “I don’t know what you mean,” I say, my voice steady despite the thundering of my heart.
“Come off it,” Vice says, leaning forward, elbows planted firmly on the bar between us. “You've been distracted since you got back, and now Isla's acting like she's lost in a daydream. You two are about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”
A wry smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. I don't want to lie to Vice—he's more than just my right-hand man; he's a confidant, an ally. But some things shouldn’t be shared, and the growing attraction between Isla and me feels like it should be kept close to the chest. At least for now.
“Subtlety has never been my strong suit around you,” I say.
Vice studies me, his disbelief written all over his face. He knows there's more to the story, but he also knows that if I'm not ready to spill my secrets, I won’t budge. With a slow nod, he pushes off the bar and stands up straight, letting the subject drop—for now.
“Alright,” he says, though his eyes still hold a glint of curiosity. “Just don't let whatever this is interfere with business.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” I say, but my thoughts are already miles away, filled with memories of silky brown hair and lips that taste like heaven on earth and promise me a night neither of us would ever forget.
