Sweet Trilogy: Sweet Talk / Sweet Spot / Sweet Trouble. Сьюзен Мэллери
But it still hurts.” She wiped her face with a tissue. “Thanks for coming by.”
“It sounds like the situation was under control.”
Nicole gave him a shaky smile. “She was an animal. I was impressed.”
“Drew will be humiliated for weeks. That should be worth something.”
“It is.”
He patted her arm, then stood. “I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece.”
“Okay.”
“See you in the morning.”
He braced himself for the impact of seeing Claire again. She still hovered in the hallway, looking five kinds of sexy and practically naked. She was probably one of those women who claimed she had no idea what she did to a man, prancing around like that.
He hated the wanting that rushed through him, the heat and the need that made him feel primal and hungry. She was completely the wrong woman—not that he would ever be the right man.
Claire glanced past Wyatt toward her sister. She wished she and Nicole were talking so she could comfort her and maybe make what was a bad situation a little better.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, sounding almost angry.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m not sorry I hurt Drew.”
“Neither am I.”
“Oh. Okay. I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“I’m not mad.”
He stared at something over the top of her head. She turned but couldn’t see what had captured his attention.
“It’s about Amy,” he said. “My daughter.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I know who Amy is.”
“Nicole looks after her a couple of days a week. After school. Just until I can get away from work. But with Nicole laid up and recovering, that hasn’t been possible. I work construction, so Amy can’t always be with me. Job sites aren’t safe.”
Claire had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe he wanted her to drive Amy to her new babysitter.
“She likes you,” he said, sounding unhappy with the fact. “Would you be willing to watch her? It won’t be for long. A week or so. I’ll pay you.”
Claire blinked. Amy liked her? A happy warmth filled her body. “Really? She said she would like me to be her sitter?”
“Go figure,” he grumbled.
Amy liked her! Claire wanted to do a little happy dance right there on the landing. Finally, someone around here enjoyed her company.
“I like her, too,” she told Wyatt. “Of course I’ll look after her. I’d be delighted. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. You don’t have to pay me. I’m happy to help.”
“Don’t make this more than it is.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re grinning. It’s weird.”
“I’m excited. It’ll give me a chance to learn sign language.”
“There’s nothing to be excited about. She’s a kid. You watch her. End of story.”
Maybe for him, but this was the first positive thing to happen to her since she’d moved to Seattle.
“Starting tomorrow?” she asked.
He sighed heavily. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
She held her happy dance inside. “Not even for a minute. Thank you, Wyatt.”
He grumbled something and left. Claire twirled to her room, went inside and fell on the bed.
This was a sign, she told herself. Things were turning around. Everything was going to work out great.
CHAPTER SIX
CLAIRE WALKED into the bakery at four-thirty the next morning. Sid saw her and started shaking his head.
“No.”
She ignored that. “I’m here to work.”
“We can’t afford your help.”
“I did fine yesterday.”
“You had a breakdown.”
Claire didn’t want to think about that. “I had a panic attack and I handled it. I helped out when you were in trouble. You owe me.”
“That’s crap.”
She put her hands on her hips. “It’s true and you know it. Plus, I’m Nicole’s sister. This is a family bakery. I’m family. Put me to work.”
He glared at her. “Why do you want to be here?”
She thought of the line from An Officer and A Gentleman. Richard Gere’s impassioned cry that he had nowhere else to go. “It’s important. I’m offering you free labor. Why is that a problem?”
“Because two days ago, you ruined a batch of French bread. You’re a pain in the ass.”
She winced. “The salt thing wasn’t totally my fault.”
Sid glared at her.
She held up her hands. “Not that I won’t accept my responsibility in the situation. Look, I’m just asking to help out. There must be something I can do.”
Despite the loud noise from the mixers and the hum of the ovens, she would swear she could hear his snort of impatience. Still, he didn’t dismiss her again. Instead he yelled, “Phil, the princess is back.”
Phil, a tall, thin man, stuck his head out from behind a stack of racks. “Tell her to stay away from me.”
“I was thinking she could do the sprinkles.”
“What?”
Sid jabbed his finger at her. “Don’t screw up.”
“Words to live by. I won’t. I swear.”
Sid looked unconvinced as he walked away.
Claire turned to Phil and gave him her best smile. He glowered. “Come on.”
She trailed after him, weaving through narrow walkways, avoiding contact with any equipment. They came to a stop in front of a slow-moving conveyor belt.
“The sprinkle attachment is broken,” Phil said as he handed her a hairnet and gloves. “You’re going to put on sprinkles by hand. Not too many, not too few. You got that, Goldilocks?”
She nodded, wishing she knew how many were the right amount.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked.
She glanced down at her black wool slacks and knit sweater, then nodded.
He muttered something, passed her what looked like a giant salt shaker, then hit a button on the conveyor belt so it started moving again.
Chocolate-covered doughnuts inched toward her.
“Sprinkle,” Phil said.
She hated that she wasn’t dressed right and found his disapproving attention unnerving. Worse, when she upended the shaker over the first doughnut, about a pound of sprinkles tumbled out.
“Just great,” he muttered.
“I’ll get it,” she said, trying not to sound defensive.
“It’s sprinkles. There shouldn’t be a learning curve.” With that, he left.
Claire quickly learned the