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And that’s when I feel it, the unmistakable awareness that someone is watching me. That unease that I haven’t felt in days reappears, goosebumps littering my skin. I spin around, catching movement at the door that leads from the kitchen to the front of the bakery. It’s fleeting, there one second and gone the next. I’d sent Kiernan a text earlier to say I would be late, and his car wasn’t outside, so I’m pretty sure he’s not in yet. But I call his name, anyway.

“Kiernan?” Hesitantly, I take a step forward and then another and another until I’m at the doorway to the front of the bakery. “Kee, is that you?”

Silence.

I turn the corner. The shutters are down, and the room is cast in an orange glow from where the sun is sneaking in, but it’s empty. There’s no one here and no unexplained shadows in any corner.

I blow out a breath, shaking my arms to release the tension in them, then turn around to head back into the kitchen. It’s as I do that a shadow crosses in my periphery again and the room fills with the faint scent of hot, damp earth. I cover my mouth with my hand when it takes the shape of a man briefly before it flickers in and out like static and disappears completely.

I spin on the spot, cataloguing the room. “Pops?” I ask the silence, but there’s no reply, just the sound of tires on gravel as a car drives past the bakery. The hairs stand up at the back of my neck and I call out again for my grandfather. Even though I have never believed in ghosts, I feel less afraid of convincing myself that what I witnessed is the spirit of Pops checking in on me, rather than something I cannot explain.

TWENTY-TWO

CASPIAN

“You got laid last night.” That’s the first thing Kee says as he walks into Iona’s and sees me, his eyes narrowing in on the large bite mark-cum-bruise on my neck.

“What?” I instantly cover the spot, making my friend’s grin widen. “Is there any point in me denying it?”

Kee laughs. “Sure. But then you’d have to convince me that you were attacked by a wild creature last night, and that’s why you’re covered in marks.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “But newsflash, I wouldn’t believe you.”

He cracks out laughing and I want to do the same, but the events from earlier are playing on my mind. When I got here this morning, I had felt lighter and more relaxed than I had in months, possibly years, and now that unease is back.

“Are you okay, Cas?” Kiernan steps closer to me, tipping his head, brows furrowed.

“I’m fine. Great, really, just…do you believe in ghosts?”

Kieran purses his lips, then nods.

“Sure. I think there are ghosts walking around with us all the time. Evil spirits too. Much like I believe in other supernatural beings. Demons. Cryptids. Vampires. Why are you asking?”

I look over his shoulder, to the doorway to the bakery.

“I thought I saw one here today.” Kiernan’s head whips around. “It’s gone now.” He looks disappointed when he meets my eyes. “I thought maybe it was Pops checking in on me, but it can’t be. Right?” I shake my head, then move to the counter and continue mixing dough for the almond and cherry scones that are today’s special. “No. It can’t be.”

“And why not?” my friend asks. I open my mouth and he holds up a hand. “Don’t give me that because ghosts aren’t real bull -” he does a terrible job of mimicking my voice before he continues. “It would be just like Pops to haunt you.”

I can’t help but smile because, knowing my Pops, Kee has a point.

“I’m jealous you got to see a ghost. I’ve never seen anything remotely paranormal or exciting.” Kiernan sighs dramatically. “I’m also super jealous that you appear to have had an incredible night.” He bumps his shoulder to mine and heat floods my cheeks. “Please tell me it was that hot new Daddy in town that’s left you looking like you were chewed up and spat out by a vacuum cleaner?”

I dip my head, biting back a smile, the memory of last night stirring my cock at the most inopportune time.

“Jesus, Kee. You’re too nosy.” I gesture to the ingredients on the counter. “We have work to do.”

He’s still grinning when he walks backwards towards the door leading to the front of the bakery. “Yes, boss.”

Sterling’s smiling face appears around the door while I’m preparing a batch of courgette and chocolate chip brownies. It’s early afternoon and there’s the usual lunch time lull in patrons visiting the bakery.

“Can I interrupt?” he asks, taking large strides until he’s at my side at the counter. He looks incredible, in dark green utility trousers and a tightly fitting grey shirt. His hair is in a bun, but it’s damp, like he possibly took another shower or went swimming before heading over here.

“Of course. Give me two seconds,” I say, pouring the batter into a baking tray. Opening the oven, I slide it in, then set the timer.

Without overthinking it, I walk up to him, fist his shirt and pull him closer, then I crash my lips to his. He grunts, his hands coming to my lower back and hauling me into him, deepening the kiss as he does.

I break away reluctantly, stepping back to put some distance between us.

“My bakery has the highest hygiene rating the council gives. Can’t be doing that in here,” I say with a grin.