7. Owner Of The Bakery.

"Hurry up, Winter. Mrs Willow will be here soon," Pidge said mopping the floor rapidly.

Just then the door of the bakery pushed open and two figures stepped in.

Pidge was looking at the floor mopping the spilt coffee which a child has thrown by accident.

Her eyes got fixed on the shoes of the people...one was wearing simple black court shoes...she was probably a female.

Another figure was wearing neatly pointed dark brown shoes, his feet were larger than the woman.

Looking up she was stunned to see the man and a woman.

"Hello everyone," his voice sweet and a smile touched his lips.

"Girls, this is my son...Dylan Maxwell," Mrs Willow simply announced.

Winter, Rosina, Lia along with Pidge were in a trance...as if they all were caught redhanded.

"Her son?"

"She spent a night with the owner's son."

"Pidge..." the girls said together in a mumble...staring at their best friend who was just glued in her place.

"Hello," Dylan walked forward for a handshake and Pidge could only look him in the eyes.

After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat and said, "Hello, sir."

Her expressions were impassive, tone professional.

He thought she might be happy to see him but it was the total opposite of what he thought.

He then, one by one, met the girls and before they could introduce themselves to him he spoke, "Hi, Winter...right?"

And Winter nodded...he then met Lia and Rosina taking their names correctly.

He hasn't met them before but knew their names with their personalities.

Mrs Willow was enjoying the coffee with her son, Pidge made for them.

Seeing Pidge excusing herself to the kitchen, Dylan spoke, "Mother...I haven't seen the kitchen. I am curious. I'll be back taking a look,"

His mother nodded and he stood up to walk away.

In the kitchen, Pidge was just cleaning the counter when she felt a presence.

"Pidge..." a familiar voice lingered in her ear and she paused and turned around.

Her face was expressionless...

"Yes, sir. Do you want something?" she asked in a professional way.

This made him hurt a little before speaking he licked his lips and said, "Don't talk to me in this way, Pidge."

She kept quiet when he continued, "Look, I am not angry at you for lying to me...please do the same with me."

"Sir, you..." before she could complete her sentence he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers.

She didn't even push him back but kissed him.

He pulled back and touched his nose with hers...

"I never felt this real with anyone else but you..."

"Pidge, I think I am in love with you and I am in no denial..."

She was astonished...just staring in his beautiful brown eyes which were dilated by now.

"Dylan...you..." she was lost with words when he added, "Yes, Pidge. For what we had last night was real. It felt good to me. I know I made a mistake by not telling you that this bakery belongs to my stepmother and..."

"Stepmother?" she asked confused.

"Mrs Willow is my stepmother...years ago my father married to her and she became my second mother."

"As I was in a growing age she didn't plan for having any kids but focused on raising me...she is a good mother..."

Hearing this a ghost of a smile touched her lips. This man was a strong one...a warrior, a fighter.

"Dylan! Come on, son. We have to go," the loud voice of Mrs Willow came across the kitchen and he said, "Will you forgive me, Pidge?"

"Will you forgive me for lying to you?" she asked back and he gave a certain nod.

Walking back outside he insisted on spending more time on the cosy bakery.

"Smells good... What's cooking?" he inhaled sharply and asked directly to Pidge.

"I baked peanut butter cookies and cinnamon rolls," Pidge answered politely.

"Mmm...bring it to me," he licked his lips in excitement and she could only gawk at it.

When bringing the things he asked for, she offered him and he held to touch the plate but put his hand on hers and wasn't leaving it.

With wide eyes, she gestured him towards his stepmother and he couldn't care less.

Struggling to withdraw her hand from his, she turned to walk back.

Time to time, he was giving her grins which made her blush.

Sometimes a wink when his mother wasn't looking and other times he blew a kiss.

She was astonished to see him teasing her like this.

The day was finally over and Dylan along with Mrs Willow has left a long time ago.

Pidge's mood was pleasant all day...she has been thinking about Dylan and his words...their kiss.

"Girl, you don't tell me that he is in love with you..." Winter was stunned.

"Maybe he was exaggerating," Rosina said impassively.

"You can't trust him easily..." were the words of Lia.

They were right...she could not...after all he was just a stranger to her.

Considering they met a week before...maybe three days ago?

What if he's just after sex and not really in love with her?

Pidge was confused, her mind racing in so many indifferent thoughts.

She reached her house and after a very tiring day, she just jumped on her bed.

She decided to scroll down her Instagram feed.

Rock came through her bed and she was frightened all of a sudden.

"What is this?" she talked to herself clutching the duvet in her hand.

Stepping out of the bed she walked towards the window and saw Dylan waving at her.

The priceless smile on his face made her happy after all.

"What are you doing here?" she asked opening the window as she crouched down and literally whispering.

"I came to see you..." was his reply.

"But we met in the morning...Dylan," she answered unaware.

"Yea, so what?" he shrugged his shoulders and showed her a bunch of fresh red roses he brought just for her.

"See, I brought flowers for you."

"Pretending to be a gentleman, I see," she made an impressing face.

"I don't have to pretend..." he answered and threw the flowers upwards as she quickly caught it.

Inhaling the magnificent scent of the red roses her heart melted instantly.

Another moment and he climbed up the pillar towards her window.

Dylan jumped in when she was just gawking at him.

"Boy, what are you?" she made an awkward face and he just chuckled lightly.

"Never seen you using that tone," he commented.

"Was that rude?" she asked hesitantly and he just clicked his tongue answering, "Not at all."

"I like people who speak their mind," he added.

"Nice room," he whistled looking around.

The room Pidge was living in was a tiny room of girl with a single bed, small vanity with an old two doors cupboard.

The paint was offwhite in colour and there was a door on the left for the washroom.