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“You’re twins?” he asked, surprise evident in his tone. That amused me for some reason. “You seem shocked. Do I not seem like a twin?” I teased. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, brushing at the thick stubble. “No,” he replied instantly. “You seem like one of a kind.”
“Cupcake, I was yours the second my steel-toed boot set foot in this pink fuckin’ bakery,” he said without hesitation.
“Unless you’ve decided to keep lying to yourself, conquer your fears and come home with me?” Kip offered Fiona at the door. She made a disgusted face. “If I decide to come home with you, just know I’ve been possessed by some kind of demonic entity and someone needs to call Jensen Ackles.”” She leaned in to kiss me goodbye, nodding at Rowan then flipping Kip the bird.
Kip followed behind him, and I noted the strange, intense look on his face directed at Fiona—who was clearing tables—before a lazy grin settled over it, covering up that foreign look.
“Cupcake, this is my job.” He tilted his head toward the greenhouse. “I get deals on shit, pay Kip in beer, and get plenty of payment in all the things you bake for me. The way you smile at me in the morning.
“If I could bring your brother back, I would,” he murmured. “I would do anything to not see you in this kind of pain. I’d sell my fuckin’ soul to the devil.” He rested his forehead against mine. “But I can’t. Neither can you. You can’t drink away the feelings either.” He stroked my jaw with his thumb. “But if you want to keep tryin’, I’m gonna be at your side, and you sure as shit won’t be at a dive bar on your own.”

