My Dirty Affair

Chapter Forty Two

I couldn't bring myself to walk through the door. Arnoldo's Bakery had been right in front of me, and I'd been anticipating this moment all day. Finally, I was going to be alone with Jon and we could talk face to face without any interruption. I clutched the strap of my purse closer to my chest, feeling the sweat build in my palms, and my ankles buckled together. I was like my body was physically keeping me from entering the store, but why?

Was I even doing the right thing?

Locked in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the door open and Jon standing in the threshold of the store. I became aware that he'd probably been watching me from the inside standing outside of the store looking like an idiot staring at absolutely nothing. He was breathtaking to behold, and those eyes were mesmerizing. I tried to pull away from his stare, feeling my face become warm within that short amount of time we spent drinking each other in.

"Hey, you," He said, his voice lighter, friendlier than earlier. He had time to think himself, I imagined since we last saw each other.

I stretched my lips and hoped my smile was convincing. I still didn't know what the hell I was doing. I wanted to pour my heart out all at once. I wanted to do it right away and then hope his response would be the same as mine. I'd hoped he'd want me as much as I want him, but I didn't want to rush the process. "Hey."

He stepped to the side to let me in. "It's a ghost town in here."

He wasn't wrong. The place was completely free of customers and the buzz of conversations and Ashley wasn't at the register spying on us. I followed Jon to a clean table, he pulled the chair back and let me sit. "Yeah, it's quiet, which is just the way I like it."

"Are you cleaning?" I asked. I saw a bucket full of dirty dishes on one of the tables and a towel with surface cleaner.

"Yeah, Mark is washing dishes in the back. I'm going to take it to him real fast." I wasn't aware that we were alone, and I was thankful he told me beforehand. I couldn't hear anyone in the back, but as long as he didn't walk in on us, I suppose I felt better. Besides, he needed the help with cleaning.

"Would you like a cannoli?"

"Oh, I don't have any money on me." I was running short of my last paycheck and I didn't get paid until next weekend.

"It's on the house, better to give it to you than let it go to waste." He walked behind the counter and turned on the water from the sink to wash his hands.

I twisted in my chair to face him. "It's fine, really." I came here with the intention to talk, not to stuff my face which is exactly what I feared if I ate even one cannoli. I was going to want more.

"Come here." He said.

Like a robot, I complied to his command. I walked on shaking legs toward the counter. He was drying his hands and once he was done, he retrieved a tray with a cannoli and other pastries I wasn't familiar with.

"The shell is fresh, so it should still be warm." He passed me the cannoli, our fingers brushed together, but I ignored the longing his contact caused.

I waited for him to take one for himself, but his eyes remained on me. So, I guess he wanted me to enjoy myself. Maybe I could have a little fun with this. I put the cannoli between my lips, surprised it'd been soft and warm like he said and took a small bite, but I blew on it a little so the creme could come out. My hand was covered in the goo. I watched as Jon's eyes bobbled to my hand, then my face and I shrugged. "May I have a napkin?"

"Sure." He said, but he made no move to get one.

"It's good. Do you want some?" I offered the other end of the pastry to him.