Bad Boy Valentine by Sylvia Pierce Read Free Book Online

in a warm glow. He heard her rummaging around under the front counter, dishes clanking, coffee beans grinding. The sounds were homey, familiar. The whole thing made his damn chest hurt.
    Kate didn’t have her own bakery back when they’d been together, but she’d loved making stuff for them at home, especially breakfast. Waking up with her had been one of the best things about his days, second only to going to bed with her.
    Jagger set down his hammer and lowered his dust mask. A minute later, the smell of hot coffee wafted into the back room, and his stomach rumbled. He’d been so wound up about Kate, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.
    “I picked up some food,” Kate called out from the front. “Coffee’s on, too, if you’re interested.”
    In the restroom off the main work area, Jagger washed his hands and face, doing his best to shake the plaster dust out of his clothes before heading out into the front of the café. Kate was sitting in the booth by the window, a whole spread set up in front of her—steaming egg sandwiches, two mugs of hot coffee, a plate piled high with cookies. Ice waters, too.
    She thought of everything, as usual.
    She hadn’t heard him approach, and he took a moment to check her out in earnest. She looked just as he’d remembered—lush lips, big blue eyes, wavy hair the color of honey. He liked it natural like that. She used to spend hours in front of the bathroom mirror straightening it, freaking out if Jagger tried to turn on the shower while she was still in there. The steam! You’ll mess it all up again!
    Jagger smiled at the memory, wondering if she still straightened her hair sometimes. If she still changed her outfit four times before walking out the door every day. If she still did her makeup, then washed it off and started over again until she got her eyeliner just how she liked it. Waiting for her to get ready was an event in itself.
    Jagger never had a lot of patience for anything in his life, but Kate was different. He’d actually liked waiting for her—to do her makeup. To get dressed. To pick a movie. To decide what toppings to get on their pizza.
    To come.
    He’d zipped up every one of her dresses, clasped her delicate necklaces with his big, meaty hands. Hell, some days he’d done it at least a dozen times.
    Jagger’s throat felt tight.
    Who’d done that for her in his absence? Who sat on the couch flipping through channels while she took a million years to get ready for a party? Who stared at her like he was the luckiest bastard alive as she finally came out of the bedroom, looking like a goddamn queen?
    He pictured some scruffy son-of-a-bitch with his hands on Kate’s soft hips, whispering in her ear about all the things he’d do to her later…
    Fuck me. This shit needs to stop.
    Stepping out of the shadows, Jagger cleared the tightness from his throat and took a seat across from her, plastering on a passable smile. “What’s all this?”
    “You still like bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll?” she asked brightly. “Figured you’d be hungry. The cookies are oatmeal chocolate chip, by the way. Sandwiches are from Danny’s.”
    Damn, he hadn’t had a Danny’s breakfast sandwich in years. The place was legendary. And Jagger was starving.
    “Miss Molina, I could kiss you.” Laughing, he reached for the sandwich, the roll squishing between his fingers, gooey cheese dripping down the side of his hand. It was halfway to his mouth before he realized what he’d said.
    “So. I thought we could start over,” Kate said. Her tone was all business, but her cheeks were dark pink, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Yeah, she’d heard him, all right. “We got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”
    “And this is your peace offering?” Jagger nodded. “I accept.”
    He opened his mouth, finally taking that bite. But holy fuck, shit was on fire.
    “Hot! Hot!” Through a mouthful of food, he gulped down his entire glass of ice water and reached for