Page 24 of Blood Sugar

The drive home passed in a blur, and I collapsed into my room, not even taking the time to eat one of the muffins that Rowen kept insisting I take home. If he fired me, I wouldn’t have any more of the delicious treats, and that turned my stomach sour. Luckily, I was exhausted enough that sleep found me easily.

The next evening, I cleaned myself up, styled my hair, and put on makeup in an effort to look presentable for Rowen. If I turned up looking like a slob, it would be easier for him to let me go. And despite my imminent starvation, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

The bakery glowed with cozy light. I’d never worked anywhere this welcoming, and I wasn’t sure if it was Rowen’s grandmother’s energy filling the place, or if it was all him. The grumpy witch shouldn’t fill my ribcage with warmth, but he did.

Squaring my shoulders, I marched toward the brick building. The door chimed, and Rowen appeared in the kitchen entryway.

“Sadie,” he said roughly.

“Rowen, look, I’m really sorry about last night,” I started.

He held up a hand, palm toward me. “Don’t.”

My heart dropped into my ass.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “I’m the one who should be apologizing. It was really out of line for me to try to interfere with your plans, and I shouldn’t have suggested…anything.”

“No! It was really nice of you. I don’t know how things went so sideways. I just want to go back to baking together. I really love this job and I don’t want to lose it because we got into some silly spat.”

Rowen paused. His gaze honed in on my face, watching my lips and the way my nose wrinkled. “And you fed—you’re all good?”

“I’m great,” I said, keeping my voice level and giving him a flirty grin. The extra blush I applied helped to sell my lie.

“Okay,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Come on, we’ve got baking to do! Looks like the customers really cleared you out today,” I said, winking at him before sauntering past and into the back kitchen.

After a moment of hesitation, my grumpy witch followed me. The tension in my shoulders melted, and the energy in the room settled into peaceful camaraderie.

The first hour went smoothly, and I fell into the groove of mixing cookie dough and quick breads before preparing the cinnamon roll dough. As I spooned cinnamon sugar across the pillowy dough, my energy sputtered out. Locking my knees, I tried to prevent my body from swaying.

My stomach clawed at me, threatening to eat itself. Stuffing myself with three muffins and a ton of water that morning had only helped to a point. The lack of blood was catching up with me finally, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Sucking in a deep breath, I steadied myself, but the room swam around me. My vision blurred.

Warm hands gripped my waist.

“Sadie,” Rowen murmured.

The heat of him at my back shredded the last of my reservations. Leaning back, I let him hold me up. He repeated my name, his volume and pitch rising.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Just give me a moment. I guess I’m not feeling better like I thought.”

“You didn’t feed, did you? Dammit!” He didn’t wait for my confirmation. With one heave, he lifted me into his arms. My head fell against his chest, and distantly, I appreciated how firm he was under my cheek.

“No, I’m fine,” I argued, my voice breathy.

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.”

My surroundings came into focus, and Rowen’s body rocked slightly as he began climbing stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you up to my apartment. You can’t lie down in the bakery.” His answer was gruff, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to not cry.

A door squeaked, and then Rowen settled me onto a squishy sofa. The caramel scent of him was softer here, mixed with cozy wood and clothing detergent.

“Just let me rest a minute and we can get back to work,” I muttered.