Claimed by My One Time Crush

Chapter Four

Mackenzie’s POV

I rush back into my shop, the money clasped tightly in my hand as I nod in reply to my assistant’s greeting and disappear though the door leading to my industrial kitchen.

As the door swings closed behind me, I slump against the barrier, blowing out a breath, as my anger simmers.

‘Low down, woman devouring, sweet talking, superficial asshole’ I mutter under my breath.

Callan’s words wash back over me again, ‘Is there anything else I can . . lick?’

my fingers moving to my cheeks as heat flushes my skin and my temper heightens over the fact that despite me knowing just what that man is like, his lines still have the power to affect me.

‘No’ I growl to myself angrily, ‘you know better Kenz, you know much better. Callan Hownell is a dirty dog with as much depth as a soggy teabag. He’s only interested in the thin, blonde, big breasted airheads, don’t fall for his words, he’s just playing with your emotions.’

My fifteen year old self peeks up from the back of my mind where I shoved her all those years ago. Somehow sensing my wavering confidence and shoving my old insecurities to the forefront of my mind. Those painful memories of not being good enough, not being pretty enough or popular enough. Big Mac, the fat girl in school who couldn’t hope to get any boys' attention let alone the quarterback of the football team. Half tonne Harper who had piggy jokes made as she walked down the halls.

‘Mama!’ My favourite little voice in the entire world rouses me from my thoughts and I just have time to drop to my knees and open my arms when a chubby bundle of gorgeousness flings himself at me.

‘Hey baby’ I coo, brushing my fingers through his almost black hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead, my happiness in seeing the little boy marred as always with the tinge of grief that accompanies him calling me.

‘I’m so sorry Miss Harper’ the fraught voice of the teenager who watches Maxton for me after school so that I can work without dealing with the energetic toddler, huffs, as she comes into view from the stairs that lead to the two bedroom flat.

Gathering the brown eyes boy up in my arms, I stand up, smiling over at Violet warmly. ‘Don’t worry about it Vi’ I tell her, ‘he’s a little cheeky chops, you turn your back for a second and he’ll make a run for it. I’ve chased him down these stairs more times than I can count since I moved here.’

Violet laughs, walking over to me and reaching for Maxton who buries himself further into my arms, pouting.

‘NO!’ he whines, wrapping pudgy fingers into the fabric of my cardigan, ‘want Mama.’

I sigh, my angel has just learned what no means, and it’s his new favourite word. At twenty three months, he is already showing his personality and I know that he’s going to be a stubborn young man, just like his father.

My chest squeezes at thoughts of Maxton’s dad, the knowledge that this amazing child will never meet his father who I know would have loved him so fiercely. He would have laughed, hard, as the little tike yelled his favourite word with attitude, waving a spoon at me from his highchair as I try to convince him that mashed parsnips are yummy.

‘Mama sad?’ Maxton’s worried voice pulls me back again and I smile down at him, giving him another squeeze.

‘No, Mama isn’t sad’ I reply soothingly, ‘she was just thinking that was all.’

‘OK’ Maxton shrugs, smiling widely as his gaze moves around my open kitchen. ‘Cookie?’ he asks me hopefully and I shake my head, chuckling.

‘Umm, I don’t think that is how we ask Mister’ I chastise him as I poke my fingers into his ribs, making him giggle.

‘Pease?’ he answers dutifully and my heart squeezes again, how did I get so lucky to have such an amazing baby in my life?

‘OK, but just one’ I tell him firmly, walking over to his highchair that sits at the edge of my large granite worktop when I need to watch him whilst at work.

Violet follows, taking a seat in the old wooden chair beside Maxton’s high chair, reaching over and spinning one of the toys that is stuck to the tray to distract the child as I walk toward a huge, industrial fridge and pull out some pre rolled and cut cookies on a baking sheet.

Turning on the oven, I glance over my shoulder to the pair, giving Maxton a stern look when he looks up at me.

‘The rest of these cookies better sell young man’ I tell him, ‘or you are going to be in trouble.’

The toddler just grins, picking up a rattle and shaking it as hard as he can, almost hitting Violet in the eye as she laughs and dodges the plastic weapon, placing a hand over his gently.

‘Careful Maxxie’ she tells him softly, ‘you almost donked me on the head.’

Opening the door, I slide the tray of unbaked cookies onto one of the racks and set the timer, heading back to the table just as Maxton starts to slam the rattle against the plastic tray in front of him.

‘COOKIES!!!’ he yells excitedly, arching his back in an attempt to get free of the straps that hold him into the chair.

‘Ten minutes’ I remind him, just as I do every time I put cookies in to oven when he’s near.

‘Miss Harper?’ the sound of my assistant, Eralia, has me look up toward the door that leads back into the store front. ‘We just ran out of chocolate chip cookies, do we have any more?’

My smile widens as I glance at my son, reaching over and pinching his cheek. ‘You little mind reader’ I mutter in amusement, ‘how did you know that we would need more cookies?’

Maxton just laughs at me, waving the toy around as he yells, ‘COOKIES! COOKIES!’

My assistant and Violet both giggle as I meet the gaze of the young Caribbean girl who is waiting patiently for my answer. Nodding, I gesture to the oven behind me, ‘There will be a fresh batch ready in ten minutes, I’ll bring them out.’

‘I’ll let the customers know’ she replies, before disappearing back into the store to continue serving.

I’m extremely lucky, since I opened my doors, I’ve had a steady stream of customers come through the door. Local businesses who want some treats for their boardroom tables, a mum and baby group who stop in every Tuesday after their Mum Tum’s stroller jogging session. The women had laughingly told me the first time they came in that they had earned the calories from how hard their leader had made them work.

I’d actually altered my display because of the group, adding smaller versions of some of my cookies, making them just the right size for little hands.

The timer dings behind me, and I head back to the oven, pulling open the door as the sweet scent of chocolate cookies wafts across me. I can’t help but inhale deeply, loving the scent. My Mimi’s cookies were the best and every time I make her recipe, I get a reminder of sitting on the chair that Violet currently occupies, pressing a cutter into the dough as Mimi smiled, encouraging me to line them up just right on the parchment paper lined trays.

Placing the tray on the counter, I move each cookie over to the rack to cool before carrying them back to my work bench and raising an eyebrow at Maxton who claps his hands excitedly.

‘What do you think sweetpea?’ I ask him, ‘leave them plain or half dunk them in chocolate?’

‘Cockolat’ the toddler screams, jerking excitedly as Violet and I laugh.

‘OK’ Chocolate it is’ I agree, and soon I’m elbow deep in a bowl of melted chocolate, pushing half of each cookie into the mixture and laying them down to harden.

‘Here you go’ I finally tell the impatient child, holding out a cooled cookie that has way more chocolate on it than it should, but hey, if I can’t spoil the kid, who can?

Handing a second one to Violet, I take the tray carefully through the door and into the shop, sliding it into the empty space of the display as the customers who were waiting push forward, eager to get their hands on my sweet treats.

I can’t help the smile that lights up my face, people like my baking, just like they liked Mimi’s. My eyes flick up to the ceiling as I swallow, ‘I hope you’re proud of me Mimi’ I whisper, ‘I hope you think I’m living up to your legacy.’