Getting Her Back

Getting Her Back
Nathan’s POV

The drive to Kayla’s bakery felt like it was taking forever. My shoulder throbbed with every turn of the wheel, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was getting to her before she built an even bigger wall between us.

Then everything went to shit.

Two cars were parked sideways right in the middle of the narrow road, completely blocking traffic. 

Their owners…a middle-aged man in a suit and a woman in gym clothes…were screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, arms flailing wildly.

“You blind idiot! Look what you did to my bumper!”

“Your bumper? You hit me, you crazy woman!”

Horns blared behind me. People were yelling from their windows. Traffic was piling up fast.

“Fuck!” I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. This was the last thing I needed right now.

I grabbed my walkie-talkie. “This is captain Nathan Vargas. Got a blockage on Maple and 5th. Two vehicles, road rage. Send a traffic unit ASAP.”

The response crackled back. “Copy that. Units are tied up. ETA twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes? I couldn’t wait that long.

I parked my car on the side as best as I could, got out, and marched toward the chaos, ignoring the sharp pain in my shoulder. I pulled out my badge and held it up.

“Alright, both of you shut it!” I barked. “What the hell is going on here?”

They both started screaming at once, talking over each other, pointing fingers, cursing like sailors.

“He came out of nowhere—”

“She wasn’t watching—”

I raised my voice. “I said shut up! Is anyone hurt?”

They both paused, then shook their heads.

“Good. Then get in your damn cars and move them out of the road first. You can exchange insurance and scream at each other on the sidewalk after that.”

It took nearly ten long minutes of more yelling and honking from frustrated drivers before they finally moved their cars. The second the road cleared, I turned to head back to mine.

“Wait!” the woman shouted. “Aren’t you going to arrest him?”

I stopped. “That’s not my job, ma’am.”

“But you’re a cop! You showed us your badge!”

“I’m on leave,” I said flatly, already walking away. “Handle your shit.”

I got back into my car and zoomed off just as I heard sirens approaching from the other end. I let out a long breath. 

Finally.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up in front of Sweet Haven Bakery. I parked right out front and killed the engine. My heart was pounding harder than it did during the shootout yesterday.

I sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel.

Okay. Keep it simple champ. Apologize first. Tell her Angela means nothing. Tell her you want this marriage to be real. Tell her that you’re sorry your mom treated her like that. Don’t sound desperate. But also don’t sound too casual—

I exhaled sharply, ran a hand through my messy hair, and stepped out of the car.

The little bell above the door rang as I pushed it open, my tall frame filling the entrance.

“Welcome to Sweet Haven!” Kayla’s voice rang out, warm and cheerful among those of her employees, followed by soft laughter.

My eyes found her immediately.

She was behind the counter, smiling, looking beautiful even in a simple apron dusted with flour. But she wasn’t alone.

Some guy in a black t-shirt was helping her carry a heavy tray of supplies toward the back room. They were talking and laughing about something like old friends.

Who the fuck is he?

Jealousy hit me like a punch to the gut and my jaw clenched tight.

Kayla looked up at that exact moment and our eyes met across the bakery.

I didn’t hesitate. I started marching straight toward her like a man on a mission. The jealousy burning in my chest was stupid and irrational, but I didn’t care. Not after she abandoned me in the hospital.

“Why did you leave me alone in the hospital?” I asked the second I reached where she stood, voice low but rough. I didn’t care for pleasantries or being formal. “I searched for you in the midst of that drama with my mother and you weren’t there. I was scared, Kayla.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Scared? Are you a baby? Besides… You had your fiancée and your mother there. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble for you,” she said, not looking at me.

I reached for her waist, needing to touch her, but she flung my hand away like it burned her.

“Kayla—”

The moment my hand dropped, I clutched my shoulder and let out a loud groan, even though she’d pushed the uninjured side. I bent forward slightly, face twisted in fake pain.

It worked like magic.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” She was on me in a second, hands gently grabbing my arm, worry all over her face. “Come sit down. You shouldn’t even be moving around like this. Don’t you care about yourself?”

“All I care about is you,” I said, as I let her guide me to one of the small tables near the window. Just as I sat, the guy from earlier walked out of the storage area, smiling casually.

“Kay, is there anything else you need me to do? I’m all yours today,” he said cheerfully.

Kay? All yours? My blood boiled.

Before she could answer, I gripped her waist and pulled her down firmly onto my lap. She let out a surprised squeak as I wrapped one arm around her, holding her in place.

The guy froze.

“Who do we have here?” I asked him with a hard stare. “And why exactly do you think my wife will have the rest of your day?”

The man looked awkward as hell. “Uh… Kayla? What’s going on?”

Kayla sighed. “Um, sorry about that, Peter. Nathan, this is Peter. He used to be my yoga coach. Peter, this is—”

“Husband,” I cut in smoothly, tightening my hold on her. “I’m her husband… Nathan Vargas. Nice to meet you, Coach Peter,”‘I said, putting emphasis on the word coach.

Peter smiled awkwardly and looked at Kayla. “You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t my wife be alright sitting on my lap?” I answered for her immediately. “We’re married.”

Peter’s face changed. “Look man, I don’t know what you have going on, but I know for a fact you two aren’t really married. And by the way, some chick named Angela came here minutes ago trying to tear Kayla’s hair out. She was embarrassing her in front of customers, telling her to stay away from you. Why not stick to your fiancée and leave Kayla alone?”

Fuck. Angela had already come here? How the hell did she even find out about the bakery?

I looked at Kayla quickly. “Are you okay? Did she—”

She was already standing up, stepping away from me. “I’m fine. I’d appreciate it if you leave. This is my place of business. First your fiancée causes a scene, now you. Don’t worry, I didn’t ruin anything for you. I made sure to tell her our marriage is fake.”

Except it’s not really fake.

“Kayla, please. Just give me a moment to explain.”

She shook her head. “I think you should leave, Nathan.”

Peter stepped forward. “She doesn’t want you here, man. You should go.”

“Stay out of this,” I growled at him. “I’m talking to my wife.”

Kayla exhaled. “Peter, please give us a minute.”

Peter looked at her carefully. “You sure?”

“She’s my wife,” I said possessively before she could answer. “Mind what you’re doing.”

Kayla shot me a look but told Peter to step back. I gently pulled her to a quieter corner near the back.

I explained everything as calmly as I could although I felt like I was watching her slip from my fingers.

I told her about Angela’s lies, my mother’s misunderstanding, how I shut it all down and the fact that Angela was never my fiancée to begin with. 

“My mom is really sorry. She wants to meet you properly. She wants to apologize and get to know you.”

Kayla crossed her arms. “I understand it was a misunderstanding, but our marriage is fake, Nathan. Why would I need to go see your mother?”

“If not for anything else, at least let her apologize to you face to face.”

She exhaled, looking tired. “Fine. Can you leave now? It’s not closing time yet.”

I winced again, clutching my shoulder dramatically. “The doctor said I need to be taken care of properly so the wound doesn’t get infected. I strained it rushing here as fast as I could.” I sniffed pathetically. “Can you drive me home? He said I need rest.”

Kayla looked around her busy bakery, clearly conflicted. I pressed on, giving her my best pitiful face.

She groaned. “Give me a minute to tell my workers what to do and when to close.”

Ten minutes later, she was done. Peter had already left after she spoke to him briefly, but not before glaring at me like he wanted to knock my teeth out.

“Let’s go. Good thing I didn’t come with my car. Peter dropped me off,” she said. 

I stood up, then immediately started limping like my leg was about to fall off.

Kayla paused. “Why are you limping? It’s your shoulder that’s injured.”

I quickly switched back to clutching my shoulder like it was about to detach from my body.

She stared at me for a second… then burst out laughing. “You’re such a drama queen.”

I relaxed a little and grinned. Thank God. She’s not too pissed anymore.

We got into the car…her driving, me in the passenger seat. As she started the engine, I gave her directions.

“Not home yet,” I said. “We need to go somewhere real quick first.”

She glanced at me suspiciously. “Where?”

I smirked. “You’ll know when we get there.”