Mitchell's Power Play

Cinnamon buns & Roses

SAMMY

"What has you grinning like the cat that caught the canary this morning?" Sylvia, the owner of the bakery where I worked asked. She strolled into the back of the bakery where I was up to my elbows in dough. Sticky cinnamon buns were about to become the special of the day.

"I like cinnamon buns?"

"Yeah," she snorted and placed a wrinkled hand on the work table across from me. "Try again. Only a man can make your face look like that. Who is he?"

Her forwardness and accurate assessment never failed to surprise me. She could tell by just looking at me if I was having a good day or a bad day, and it had been quite a few bad ones lately since I had to deal with my mom. Sylvia didn't normally make a big deal about it, but this time she studied me, like she was waiting for me to fess up.

"Maybe," was my only response.

She laughed and pointed a bony finger at me. "I'll get it out of you one of these days, girly. You just better make sure he's worth it and treating you right."

I could answer that one without any hesitation. "He is." Because that was the one thing I was sure of. Mitch was a helluva catch. He could be funny and teasing, or serious and caring. Whatever we did, he always made me feel appreciated. It had been a few days since our impromptu date when he cooked me dinner, and I missed him. We'd talked on the phone a couple of times, and texted, but that was it. He was traveling again, in Calgary or Winnipeg, or something like that. Somewhere in Canada.

"You are a smitten girl," Sylvia said, her deep brown eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I guess I am."

I finished a batch of cinnamon buns and put them into the oven while Sylvia continued into her tiny office while mumbling something about being young again.

I thought back to Mitch and my date while I started another batch of cinnamon buns. Mitch hadn't left my apartment until very late Friday night. It may even have been early Saturday morning, but he did leave, despite my somewhat slutty attempts to get him to stay. I'd straddled him on the couch and shamelessly rubbed myself against his hardness, begging him without any words to take me to bed.

Mitch had been resilient and while I felt his excitement in the way his erection pressed up against me, he didn't give in. It had been disappointing at first. Embarrassing even, that he could resist me despite my best attempts, but now, a few days later, I understood why. Mitch didn't want us to rush into something any more than I did. Clearly after a couple of glasses of wine and his hot, hot body up against mine - did I say hot? Just making sure you got that part -my mind had reconsidered and decided it no longer mattered if we were rushing. It was all interested in instant gratification.

Eventually, I got back to my senses, and realized that Mitch was right and that it had been for the best. I'd rushed into relationships in the past and they never worked out in the end. Mitchell and I had too much to lose, so we're taking it slow, and I was okay with that.

Mostly.

Unless he started to remove some clothing. I'd not be able to hold back if he removed his shirt and flashed me some well sculpted abs.

******

Kennedy called me while I walked home from work in the early afternoon. I answered with, "Hi Ken, is the baby's coming?"

"No," she groaned. "Although I kind of wish he was."

"No, you don't. Nash would have a conniption if you went into labor when he's up in polar bear country."

She laughed.

"I know, but there is absolutely nothing going on, so no need for him to worry."

"Good." That meant there was no reason for me to worry either. I took a breath of relief. "Is Jackson with you?"

"Yeah. He's here. He has all his crap spread out all over the kitchen island."

I giggled but turned the phone so she wouldn't hear it. After I cleared my voice I said, "isn't it your crap too since you two are business partners?"

"Seriously, Sammy?"

I bit down on my lip to refrain from laughing. Kennedy was clearly not in a rational mood. "I'm just saying, he's making both of you money when he works, no?"

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "I just can't take all the stuff everywhere."

From the books I'd been reading about pregnancy and from what I'd been told about women in their third trimester, they were nesting. As in preparing their home for the baby, and that sounded like what was happening with Kennedy. She was normally a bit of a neat freak, but nothing like she'd been lately.

I heard Jackson in the background but I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Go easy on him, Ken," I said. "He's just trying to make the best out of a frustrating situation."

"Yeah, yeah. Why do you have to be all smart and serious?" she grumbled.

I laughed. "I'm not."

"You are, but I still love you. Are you coming over for the game?"

"Eh," her quick changes of subjects threw me for a loop. "Yes, I guess I am. Is Jackson staying?"

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he's tired of me, plus he likes that sports bar down the street."

I knew the place. It was a popular bar to watch any kind of sports event. They had a lot of draft beers, although they were a bit pricy, but the wings were good.

"I'll be there by seven and I'll bring cinnamon buns for you."

"Ohhh," Kennedy sighed. "I love you."

"You already said that once," I reminded her. "You must really be bored."

"So bored," she agreed.

"I'll see you later." I laughed as I hung up the phone.

It was a nice day out, not too cold and with plenty of sunshine, and it brightened my mood. I smiled as I navigated between the people on the sidewalk. It felt like things were starting to fall into place. Mitch and I seemed to be moving in the right direction even if it was a bit too slow for my liking. Kennedy only had a few weeks left before she was going to be a mom. And Nash was going to be a dad - that was a bit of head trip.

My mom appeared to have started to get her shit together, since she wasn't calling or texting me as frequently. Or, it could just be her usual behavior, which meant she'd met another man. I hoped that wasn't it. She really needed to learn how to function on her own.

When I came home I was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers wrapped up in tissue paper on the floor outside my door, and also, that it was a dozen pink roses. The last time Mitch had sent me flowers -which was the day after he cooked for me- it had been a huge -and I mean HUGE- beautiful floral arrangement. It had been full of all different kinds of flowers and colors, and I'd absolutely loved it. Roses -all though very pretty- didn't seem to be his thing. He just appeared to be more creative than that, like how he cooked me dinner. Any other guy would have ordered takeout, or brought me to a restaurant. Mitch wasn't like that. He was innovative, creative, and romantic.

I closed the apartment door behind me and hurried into the kitchen where I quickly unwrapped the flowers in search of a card. The only thing printed on the tag was, "I miss you."

"Awe," I sighed to myself. I really missed him too.

I put the flowers in water, sent Mitch a quick text that said I missed him too, and thanks for the flowers. Then I took a shower and went to bed. I needed a nap before I was going to Kennedy's apartment to watch the hockey game with her.

When I woke up a couple of hours later there were several missed calls from Mitch and a text that just said "I didn't buy you any flowers."

No, shit?

Then who did?