Cinders Read Free

product meant unsold product, which Maureen would be violently displeased about. “I’ll be right back.”
    She rushed into the back room, grabbing the towel from the counter on the way by, and popped open the oven. Heat blasted her face and rolled upward, the biscuits looking absolutely perfect. She pulled the tray out and dropped it on the island in the center of the room, turned the oven off, and transferred the biscuits to a wire rack with her fingers. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of them—with a bit of butter and jam, they’d be perfect.
    “And I’ll take half a dozen of those.”
    Gina glanced up to see Brennen hanging in the doorway, grinning at her.
    “If they’re not spoken for, that is.”
    “They’re not.”
    He raised his brows suggestively. “Good to know.”
    The bell over the door chimed again. “Excuse me but what are you doing?” a voice rang out.
    Gina’s stomach bottomed out.
    Maureen is back .
     
    ****
     
    Brennen noticed the change in Gina immediately, the pretty baker’s shoulder’s seizing and a tremble working through her fingers. She backed from the counter swiftly, gesturing for Brennen to leave. He did so, stepping back through the curtain and swinging around to see her stepmother standing just inside the door.
    Her ice-blue eyes were on him, steady and accusing, even as a frosty smile curved her lips. “Mr. Prescott. So nice to see you.”
    Behind her stood one of her daughters, the elder one. Silver-blonde hair like her mother, dressed in pale pink with a ring of pearls around her neck. Tatum Chandler. One of Brennen’s friends had dated her in high school. Beyond that, he knew little about her, except that she had a pouty resting face and gave him a dismissive roll of her eyes.
    “Gina was just getting my order,” he said as Gina stepped out of the back room and swiftly walked to the cash register, her head down and hands still shaking. He knew her stepmother was unpleasant but Gina seemed downright terrified of her. He told himself it couldn’t be that bad if Gina was still living and working with the woman—she was nearly twenty-one and more than capable of living on her own—but there was no denying more went on between them than immediately apparent.
    “Is she, now?” Maureen Chandler-Cassidy’s sharp gaze moved to Gina, who withdrew a white box from under the counter and began packing up the brownies.
    Michael watched the exchange from across the room, silent and still. He worked private security and was used to not attracting attention while he observed a situation. Brennen would have to get his thoughts on things after they left.
    Maureen stepped deeper into the room, her four-inch dove gray heels clicking decisively with each step like a ticking bomb counting down before an explosion. Her focus remained on Gina. “Where’s Tamara?”
    “I don’t know.” Gina packed up the brownies and set the box by the counter, then excused herself to gather the rolled biscuits.
    Maureen gave her older daughter a look. Tatum sighed and dragged her feet up to the counter, her well-manicured finger hammering down on the buttons as she rang up the order.
    Brennen gave Mike a look but he gave the slightest shake of his head. So he didn’t want to go through ordering but wanted to get the hell out as quickly as possible.
    Can’t blame him there.
    Maureen passed the counter and went into the back room, the white curtain swinging closed behind her. The tension in the room didn’t leave with her, instead coiling tight.
    Though Brennen listened, he heard nothing for several minutes, and then the curtain parted again to reveal Maureen with the box of rolled biscuits in hand. She set them with the brownies. “If there’s anything else, Tatum can help you.”
    So much for seeing Gina today.
    He pulled out his wallet to pay while Tatum rang him up, Maureen exiting out the front door behind him. Mike waited silently to the side as Brennen gathered up his boxes and the two of