Page 1 of Never Enough

chapter

one

Gracie

The bell over the bakery door jingles, but I don’t look up I’ve got my hands in the glass display case laying out a new batch of eclairs. SugarBakers is loud this morning. Espresso hisses. Chairs scrape against our linoleum floor. Kelsie laughs hard at something Caroline says. The low hum of conversation from the couple tucked into the corner table who come in every Saturday and split one croissant like it’s foreplay.

This is my normal and I love it. But I can’t ignore the foreboding feeling that I awoke with. An uncomfortable buzzing in my chest warning me that something is about to happen, like my ribs are vibrating around a live wire. My Granny used to say the women in our family have a gift. So far, all this “gift” has provided me is a little heartburn right before something happens. Usually something unpleasant.

“Gracie.”

I freeze, then wince. The sound of my name lands low and hard, like I’ve dropped a plate and I’m bracing for the shattering of glass. I haven’t heard that voice in three years, but my body remembers it anyway. And not in a good way. Not in a warm-gooey, comforting way. Instead, everything tightens, braces… prepares for disappointment.

Well, this explains the damn heartburn. Some gift.

I rub at my chest, take a cleansing breath, then stand upright and turn to face the worthless worm of a human I wasted too many years of my life on.

He’s standing at the counter like he belongs there. Like he didn’t walk out of my life with a shrug and a “sorry, it just happened and her name is Jules.”

“Andrew,” I say, because I’m a good southern girl and manners demand I be polite. “Welcome to SugarBakers.”

His smile is the same, a little too bright and wide. Earnest. He gives the space around us a cursory glance. “Looks good. Guess y’all got the bakery up and running.”

I say nothing because “no shit!” doesn’t seem appropriate for a Saturday morning. Caroline and Kelsie, my best friends and co-owners of SugarBakers, appear at my sides, flanking me like sugar-dusted bodyguards.

“Yeah. I was in town and thought I’d stop by.”

“What can I get you?” I ask, already reaching for a pastry bag, needing something—anything—to do with my hands.

“Actually,” he says, holding up a hand, “I was hoping we could talk.”

Kelsie makes a noise of disgust.

Every instinct in my body screams no. Absolutely not. Fuck. Right. Off. My pulse kicks hard against my throat.

“I’m at work right now so it’s not a good time.” Frankly, I wish the bakery were a little busier. “We’re about to hit our busy time for the afternoon.” I give Kelsie and Caroline meaningful looks. “Go ahead. Say what you have to say.”

He glances around again, and I know he’s uncomfortable. That near plastic-looking smile of his falters just a touch, but he seems to fortify himself. He looks directly into my eyes, as if he still has the right to such an intimacy.

“I screwed up.”

“Is that your apology?” Kelsie asks.

“A little late,” Caroline murmurs.

“I was scared,” he admits.

I snort. “Scared of what, exactly?”

He puts his hand on his heart.

The gesture would’ve worked once upon a time, but now it just looks theatrical and rehearsed.

“How much I felt for you,” he says. “It was overwhelming, and I just freaked out.”

“Bullshit,” Kelsie fake coughs.

“Andrew, you brought a new girlfriend to my cousin’s wedding. The wedding where I was expecting my own proposal because my boyfriend had been hinting as much. Instead, you dumped me and then promptly introduced me to Jules.”