A/N: I'm backkkkkkkk!  Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter! You guys make me laugh and keep me entertained.  I loved hearing where everyone is from! It's so crazy!!  I'm back from the beach, and the bad news is I didn't get much writing done (family can be so distracting!!), but I did write a bit! Woo!  I need to catch up now, and hopefully respond to all your comments tonight.  Hope you enjoy this next chapter. 

I'm also working on a Michael Fassbender one shot (let's be honest, it's pure smut).  I'm not a huge Fassy fan, but it's for a friend *AHEMbluebell84AHEM* ;) I've only written Tom fics up until this point, so I felt I needed to get a little variety. So look out for that, if it's what you're into ;)

Thanks guys! You da best!

The high school is crawling with people.  The festival doesn’t technically start until 6, but the parking lot is already nearly full.  I pull up in the bus loop, so we can unload all the pastries.  Tom jumps right out and starts unloading. 

I sit in the car for a half a minute, trying to calm myself down.  I’m still buzzing from whatever happened back at the bakery.  I feel like I need to go stand on a mountain top and scream, or take a very, very, very cold shower.  One complete with polar bears and penguins and little floating icebergs.  Call me the Titanic, I’m sunk.

“Charlotte! These look amazing.  You’re going to be a huge hit.” I hear Mrs. Jacob’s voice screech through the air, and I am jolted from my lust filled reverie.  I jump out of the car, slinging my bag across my chest.

“Hi, Mrs. Jacobs.” I smile and she gives me a quick little hug.  That was new.  I see Mrs. Fitzgerald come out of the building, pushing a large cart.  She looks hurried and like she’s on a very important mission.  Both women are wearing capri pants and sweater sets, even though it’s hot out and the humidity must be at 100%.

“We have you set up in the cafeteria with the rest of the food.  We’ve got Bay Café—they’re doing mostly beverages like smoothies and cold drinks.  And Chase’s Chesapeake is supplying all the dinner food.” She pats me on the arm, and I falter at the mention of Chase’s Chesapeake Inn.  Of course he’s catering. Of course. 

“Tom, honey, stack all that here.” Mrs. Fitzgerald stands back and watches as Tom hefts the containers of pastries onto the cart.  He’s smiling and being charming with her, and I can barely focus on Mrs. Jacob’s chattering away in my ear.  She’s talking about different venues, and the bagpipers and something about a bagpipers union, but all I can do is smile blankly and nod and sort of stare at Tom as he moves quickly around the car.  He looks at me, just as Mrs. Jacobs is mentioning something about high cholesterol amongst bagpipers (what?!) and he gives me this big salacious grin.  It makes the dimple on the side of his cheek show up and I just blink dumbly at him, and feel a flush across my chest and up my neck.

Gods of grape jelly, I kissed that man.  I kissed him…a lot.

Mrs. Fitzgerald and Mrs. Jacobs usher us into the school, and Tom says he’ll move my car over to the parking lot.  I nod, and follow the clucking women into the busy school.  There are people decorating, and setting up craft and vendor tables in the hallways.  They take me into the cafeteria, where they have some huge table set up. 

“You don’t have to stay the whole time, Charlotte.  We have volunteers who will watch your booth.  You’re already being a sweetheart and donating your lovely pastries.” Mrs. Jacobs grins and pats me again on the arm. 

“We’ll stay for a bit. I think Tom’s hungry.” I say, though I’d sort of rather spoon feed him dirt than something from Chase’s.  Mrs. Jacobs and Mrs. Fitzgerald stick around for a few minutes to make sure I’m settled in, and then they go on their way, making sure everyone else has what they need.  I start putting up my Tiny Baker sign, and arranging the pastries and cookie bars.  Tom comes back from parking the car a few minutes later and then we have just enough time to finish setting up the tables before streams of people start coming in.

Although I have a volunteer with me and Mandy as well, we are solidly busy for the first 45 minutes.  Not only are people buying pastries, but they’re asking me about orders and parties and catering.  It’s surprising, and a bit overwhelming.  A large portion of my mother’s friends come over.  They coo over Tom, and I swear some of them pinch his cheek like he’s some sort of adorable, handsome man baby and then they talk to me about making things for a grandson’s birthday party or an anniversary celebration.  It’s nice.  They’re nice. But it is strange a bit of an out of body experience.

It also sort of helps me get over the fact that I now know what it feels like to grab Tom by the shirt and kiss him silly.  And it keeps my mind off the way he keeps looking at me.  Maybe he’s not doing anything out of the ordinary.  But he’s smiling at me and every once in awhile, between a grandmother flirting with him, he’ll touch my lower back.  It’s like electricity through my whole body.  I’m positively on edge because of that British doughnut.  And he knows it.  Or I think he does. 

After the big rush is over, I’ve collected a dozen new orders and have two applications in hand for people looking for jobs. None of them look to be head pastry chef material, but perhaps they could take the space that Greg left glaringly open.  We’ve sold a ton of food, and it makes me happy to know that so much money will go to the fire department.

Mandy is jabbering on to Tom about Marcus’ band and Tom is genuinely enthralled to hear about it, when Mrs. Jacob’s comes back over.  She is glowing, and she has my mother at her side.

“Hi Mom.” I say with a smile.  Mom smiles, and looks at my tables, which are only half full at this point.

“Charlotte, you’ve been so busy!” Mom says as she claps her hands together.  Her boyfriend, Steve, walks up and he grins at me as well.  I’m surprised to see him—he hasn’t been around much lately and I was beginning to wonder if Mom had tossed him. 

“Hi Charlotte.” He says and I smile at him.

“How’s it going Steve?” I give him a little wave and then turn to the women. “It’s been great.  This is so much fun.” I say.  I can still hear Tom and Mandy talking behind me, but their conversation has waned slightly with the arrival of “the mother.”

“I’m so impressed.” Mrs. Jacobs nods.  She reaches forward and grabs my hands between her cool, slender ones.  I force a smile.  Sure, these women have been increasingly pleasant to me in the past few weeks, but it wasn’t always that way.  Not as I remember it, at least.  It is strange to suddenly be accepted into the upper echelon of Havre de Grace’s finest. A few years ago, when I could have used some support most, I had found only cold shoulders and sad looks. I feel Tom slide up next to my side, and I’m desperately aware of how close he’s standing.

“Isn’t she amazing? We’re almost sold out.” Tom says, bumping me in the side with his hip.  He bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, looking positively giddy.  I smile and both Mom and Mrs. Jacobs giggle at Tom. 

“She is amazing! And my nephew seems to think so as well.” Mrs. Jacobs gives me a knowing wink, and I am sure my entire face pales.  Tom crosses his arms across his chest, and he turns to look at me, an amused look at his face. 

“Oh, uh…” I panic. 

“You two had a nice time the other evening? Paul couldn’t stop talking about you.” Mrs. Jacobs smiles and finally lets go of my hands.  I swallow.  Forks. Spoons. Cutlery.

“Charlie’s talked a lot about him as well.  She said he has a lovely way about him.  Makes you forget you’re even with him. It’s like you’re with someone else.” Tom pipes up and then just smiles at me.  I make this strange noise, and I’m not even sure how to describe it.  It just sort of escapes out of my mouth.  Maybe it’s a small dying animal?  My eyes go huge, and I know I’m beet red.  I blink a few times.  What a giant, dirty, lumpy potato.

“Oh that’s so nice!” Mrs. Jacobs sounds absolutely ecstatic, even though what Tom says actually sounds sort of crazy.  I can’t even speak, I just stare at him. 

“I think it’s time for us to go.” I say finally, coughing softly to find my voice.  I hear Tom chuckle and then he reaches forward, shaking both Mrs. Jacob’s hand and my mother’s. 

“Sweet, I’m still starving.  Why don’t you wrap up and I can go grab us dinner.” He leans down and says this low into my ear.

“Not from Chase’s.” I say softly, nodding toward the large catering set up the Chesapeake Inn has on the other side of the cafeteria.  Tom seems to notice it for the first time and he nods.

“Okay, let’s get take away somewhere else then.” He says easily.  “I’ll go get us some drinks, yeah?” He nods at Bay Café, and I shake my head in agreement.  I turn my head to talk to Mandy, and explain to her how to finish up for the night, and what to do with the money, when a loud voice over the cafeteria PA system interrupts us.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” We all look up, and I am immediately disappointed to see Chase, standing on a make shift podium at the front of the large room.  He’s wearing a plaid button down short sleeve shirt and khakis.  The cafeteria quiets, and waits for him to speak. I glance over in the direction of the Bay Café’s line, and I see Tom.  He’s looking at me, and even from this distance I can see him give me a little, reassuring smile.  Then his attention is redirected when someone in line says something to him.  Maybe he’s not such a potato after all.

“Thank you all for coming.  What a great turn out.  As you know, I’m Chase James, owner of Chase’s Chesapeake Inn.  And my family owns James’ Farms and James’ Lighthouse Liquors as well.” Chase says, his voice boastful.  The crowd claps, and I roll my eyes.  Time to go.

“What a douche.” I hear Mandy groan under her breath, and this makes me chuckle.

“I hope you’re all having a great time.  Make sure to stop by Chase’s Chesapeake Inn and buy some dinner.  And after, for dessert, check out the Bay Café’s stand.  They’ve got some delicious milkshakes and smoothies.  Enjoy your time here, and remember that all the proceeds go to the Havre de Grace Fire Department!” Chase nearly shouts despite the microphone, and then begins clapping along with the crowd.  It does not go unnoticed by me or Mandy that he’s completely left out Tiny Baker from the announcement.  I don’t care.  I don’t need his dumb publicity. 

“Don’t forget, the Chesapeake Dancers will be performing jazz and tap later tonight at 7:30 in the gym.  And in about ten minutes, we’ve got the Bagpipers Union playing out in the sports field.” He claps again, and then he turns and waves at someone.  He waves again, as if coaxing someone on stage.  A few moments later, a short, dark haired woman comes up on stage.  She’s smiling and waving, and looking a bit like a Miss. America contestant.

“I would now like to introduce you all to someone who is very important to me.  A lot of you already know her, but for those of you who don’t, this is my amazing, beautiful and astoundingly talented fiancé, Mallory Pinko.  Her family owns Charm City Bread and Butter in Baltimore.  They’re the most amazing bakery on the east coast.” Everyone in the crowd claps politely, and Mallory keeps up her beauty pageant wave.  I can’t see her well from where I’m standing, but I can tell she is very pretty. And possibly made out of plastic and metal parts. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s like Charlie Lite.” Mandy’s grumbles, shaking her head.  “That is so twisted.” She sneers and I cross my arms over my chest.  It is a bit twisted. I see Tom walking back over, and he has three styrofoam cups in his hands.  He hands one to Mandy, and then holds one out to me.

“This is weird.  Is this as weird as I think it is?” He says softly, nodding toward Chase and Mallory.  I take the cup, and then bite my lip.  Chase and Mallory are now sharing a weird kiss like they are some sort of political couple, posing for the cameras.  Not too sexy, don’t show too much emotion, make it seem normal and heterosexual, but not perverted and too racy.

“It’s…” I don’t know.

“Charm City Bread and Butter is most likely going to be the new bread and dessert vendor for Chase’s Chesapeake Inn! And they have a cupcake truck outside.  Make sure to stop by on your way out and try one of their gourmet cupcakes.” Chase says after his awkward make out session with Mallory.  Tom makes a weird grunting noise, and when I look at him, he’s frowning and his eyes are squinted.  He looks angry.

“What a knob.” He looks as me, and I want to kiss him again.  But I don’t. I’m not really sure how that all works now.

“Knob. Total knob.” Mandy agrees. 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.  I don’t need his shitty publicity.  And Charm City B&B is in Baltimore.  They have no effect on Tiny Baker.” I shrug. 

“Chesapeake Inn is the biggest restaurant in town.  There’s been so many vendors after their contract the last few weeks.  Can you imagine being their supplier, though?  We’d hardly need to sell anything else.” Mandy says with a wistful sigh.  She has a point.  It would probably give us our total revenue we make now, plus some.

“I’d rather sell my soul to the robot devil.” I roll my eyes and then take a sip of the smoothie Tom has just handed me.  I sigh.  It’s some sort of tropical pineapple and coconut flavor.  “This is delicious.  Is it pineapple? My favorite.” I smile up at him.  He nods.

“I know.” He says and then gives me a little smile.  I falter for only a half second and then I bump his hip with mine.  I reach for the cup he’s holding, and we switch, trying out each other’s drinks.  In true Hiddleston fashion, he’s ordered something chocolaty and ridiculously decadent.  It’s delicious.  I take a few sips and then hand it back to him.

We say our goodbyes to Mandy.  She had graciously offered to stay at the tables until closing, and is just waiting for Marcus to show up to keep her company.  Tom and I decide to walk out to the field so we can watch the bagpipers, and then head back into town to find some food that isn’t haunted by my ex husband.

The weather outside is lovely.  It’s the perfect time of day, right before the sun is going to set.  Outside, the sky is all pastel colors and big fluffy clouds.  There’s a nice breeze now that cut through the humid summer air, and it’s turning out to be a really gorgeous evening.

“It’s a cotton candy unicorn sky.” I sigh as I grab Tom’s arm as we make our way out to the field, sipping our drinks.  We both look up and he laughs.

“Cotton candy unicorn?” He asks, pulling me along as I drag my feet. 

“Yes.  I looks like there should be fat little unicorns flying around in it.  And everything is all pastel and puffy.  It’s magical.” I keep looking up, and he guides me toward the field.  He just gives a little laugh and shakes his head.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for fat little unicorns.” He takes a sip of his milkshake and I laugh.

“I guess I do.  If I were an animal, that’s what I’d be.” I shrug.  He laughs at this, his laugh loud and boisterous.  We walk out to the field, and there’s bleachers set up facing the baseball diamond.  People are already sitting in the bleachers and the field is pretty crowded.  Who knew bagpipers were such a big draw?

“Let’s stand by the edge so we can leave when we want.” I say nodding toward the side of the bleachers.  We walk over, and stand by the side.  We can see the field, and we can see the underneath scaffolding of the bleachers.

“Were you one of the naughty kids in highschool? Making out under the bleachers? Or were you a good girl?” Tom nods towards the shady areas under the bleachers and raises an eyebrow at me.  I laugh and shake my head.

“I was a perfect angel.  I didn’t do that stuff.”

“Oh, so you just stored it up for when you were an adult.” He shakes his head and shrugs.  I bump him hard with my shoulder, and it knocks him over a bit. 

“What about you?” I ask.  He shrugs and takes a sip of his milkshake.

“A little column A, a little column B.” He grins.

“You slut.” I scoff jokingly and he grins bigger.  We continue to rib each other, alternating between calling each other a prude or a slut, and I don’t even see that someone has come up behind me.  Tom sees him first, and he turns around, putting a hand on my back as he does. 

“Charlotte.” The voice is deep, with a slight southern drawl to it.  I turn quickly and I’m face to face with a man that could easily be Chase’s father. Because…it is Chase’s father.  Mr. James.  He looks just like Chase but with gray hair, and a sterner, more serious face.  I can’t say he was ever a particularly warm and caring father in law, but he was never specifically cruel or mean to me.  Still, he raised an asshole like Chase, so I don’t really trust him.

“Mr. James. Hello.” I say, feeling my body tense quickly.  Tom isn’t smiling anymore, and he is looking at me, unsure. 

“It’s nice to see you.” Mr. James says, his voice is deeper and more controlled than Chase’s. 

“This is my friend Tom.  Tom, this is Chase’s father, Chase James Sr.” I introduce them, and Tom shakes Mr. James hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Tom says, and there’s no smile on his face as he says it.  Mr. James nods at Tom and then his focus is solely on me.  It’s a bit disconcerting.  He’s a big man, like Chase, but he is much more pulled together.  He’s almost always wearing a suit, no matter the weather.  I’ve seen him in some expensive looking polos and khakis on the hottest days of summer, but usually it’s a suit.  Tie and all.  He’s wearing dark sunglasses at the moment, and I’m not sure where to look. 

“I was wondering if we could talk alone.” Mr. James glances at Tom, and I feel Tom tense at my side.  I can tell Tom doesn’t know what to make of Mr. James, but he’s not exactly a fan.  I shake my head.

“Tom can hear whatever it is you have to say.” I say, standing up a bit straighter.  I have to remind myself that the James family has no power over me. Not anymore.  I’m not married to Chase.  I’m not a part of their family.  I’d rather be the farthest thing from their family.  Mr. James shifts slightly, and then, to my surprise he takes off his sunglasses.  His eyes are much kinder than I remember, and though he still looks like a sterner, meaner version of Chase, I am pretty sure he’s not here to start trouble.

“Alright.” He says with a sigh.  I shift my weight, feeling vaguely uncomfortable.  The bagpipers behind us start playing, and he looks from me to the field to Tom and I can tell he is also uncomfortable. 

“Can I help you with something, Mr. James?” I ask.  He looks at me and nods carefully.

“Yes, Charlie, I was hoping you could.  I was wondering if Tiny Baker would like to be the sole supplier of baked goods for Chase’s Chesapeake Inn and the James’ Farm Market.” He could not have shocked me more if he had told me he was secretly a woman.  I stare at him for a minute, and I’m pretty sure my eyes are as big as saucers.  Thankfully, I manage to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.  I feel Tom next to me, and when I glance at him for just a second I find that he hasn’t been able to keep his jaw from dropping. 

“Mr. James? I don’t…” I stutter.  “I don’t really understand.  Chase just said that Charm City B&B was taking that commission.” I manage. 

“Charlie. I’m going to tell you something in confidence.  Not many people know this.” He raises a big, bushy eyebrow at me.  “I took over the Chesapeake Inn about six months ago.  Chase was running it into the ground, and if I hadn’t taken it out of his hands, he would have destroyed it.  He’s still the face of the restaurant, and that’s how we’ll keep it.  But I’m in charge, completely.” Mr. James clears his throat, and then folds his hands in front of him.  Well, blow me down and slice me with hot buttered toast.  I’m now completely shocked. 

“I didn’t know that.” I say lamely.  Mr. James nods.

“I don’t want to rake up the past.” He says this softly, and looks around to make sure no one is near us.  I feel my stomach go sour.  “But you were always too good for my son.  And I know he made things hard for you.  So I want to offer this job to Tiny Baker.  As a way to say I’m sorry. And I hope there’s no bad blood.” He says this low.  I am caught between two emotions.  Complete, boiling anger, and shell shocked surprise.  Tom doesn’t move beside me.

“Mr. James, with all due respect…” I pause for a second, gathering my thoughts.  I lean forward so I am close to him, and it makes me feel a bit queasy.  “Five years ago your son beat me so badly that I couldn’t breathe without it hurting for six weeks. I had to leave my home because people told me that I was lying about what happened.  I felt ashamed and embarrassed and heartbroken. At the time, your family did nothing—absolutely nothing, to help me.  Or to help your son with his obvious issues. I avoided your family and this place like the plague for years because I didn’t ever want to see his wormy little face.  Do you really think that offering me a job supplying your shitty restaurant chain my delicious, perfect pastries is going to make up for the fact that your son is a complete waste of a human being?” My words just sort of flow out of me like hot lava. I am powerless to stop them.  Perhaps I am taking out my anger on the wrong person, but Mr. James and his family did absolutely nothing to help me back when I desperately needed someone to be on my side.  But I didn’t really need them then, and I sure as hell don’t need them now.

I hear Tom let out a sharp, quick, angry burst of laughter and then he is quiet again.  I feel like screaming, for the second time today, but this time is much different.  Mr. James looks at me, his gray eyes wide and surprised.  I’m not sure what his reaction is going to be but we are both still and quiet for almost a full minute.  Finally, he sort of deflates and he nods his big, graying head. 

“I understand, Charlie.  I do.  I apologize for making it sound like this would make up for what happened.  I had to offer though.  My son has…” He sighs, and suddenly looks a thousand years old.  I move back, and I’m surprised at what I suddenly feel.  Pity.  I feel pity for Mr. James and his whole family. They’ve been covering for their fuck up of a son for years now.  And it seems to be catching up to them.  You can only cover over so many mistakes before it’s just one big ugly mess.  Band aids can only fix so much.

“My son has had some issues, and he’s working on them.  I understand you are angry.  I just thought…” He seems exasperated and exhausted.  I shake my head and take a step back. 

“I’m sorry you have to deal with him, Mr. James.  I am.  But he’s not my problem anymore.  Thank you for the offer, but no.  I don’t want anything to do with your family.”  I say this softly, and with much less fire.  I can tell the man standing across from me is tired of trying to spackle over the metaphorical holes his son has punched into walls.  Chase is sad, and pathetic, and even though it should make me happy and exuberant, it just makes me a little sad as well. 

“Have a good evening, Charlie.” Mr. James says softly.  I nod and then turn.  Tom follows me and as we walk away, I slip my hand into his.  Tom interlaces his fingers with mine, and we walk briskly across the field.  The bagpipers are still playing, and it’s some sort of weird, mythical soundtrack to this messed up evening.  We walk fast, through the short, recently cut grass and then across the school grounds to the parking lot.  Neither of us speak. We are in front of the Kia in no time.  Tom pulls the key out of his pocket, and opens the passenger side door for me, still holding my hand.  As he turns to usher me inside, I let go of his hand, put my palms flat against his chest, push him up against the rusty old car and I kiss him. 

He grabs me by the hips and pulls me against him, then wraps his arms around my shoulders and we make out like we are sixteen year olds with five minutes left until curfew.  I can barely breathe.  I’m not even sure what is happening.  It’s just lips and tongues, and our teeth clang against each other once or twice because of the force at which we are kissing.  I grab onto the back of his head and I hold him too me.  I hear some people walking through the parking lot on the way to the festival and they let out a lone wolf whistle, followed by some soft laughing, but I don’t care.  I keep kissing Tom.  Nothing could stop me from kissing this man.  Not now.  He tastes like chocolate this time.  And he smells like fresh cut grass, and clean cotton tshirts and summer.  I move my hands to his waist and without thinking, I slip my hand under his shirt. 

My hand comes in contact with warm, smooth skin over hard, sinewy muscle.  I groan softly and we spin, and then Tom presses me against the car.  He pushes his hips into mine, and holy forking forks… is this real life?  I push my hand to his sides and I can feel his hip bone and that low, lovely dip by his hips that points downward in a V shape.  I grab onto the waist of his jeans and I yank him into me.  Tom breaks the kiss and then he actually leans forward and growls in my ear.  Like full on growl.  It sends this wonderful, amazing shiver down the back of my neck to my spine and then all the way down my legs to my toes.  Sweet puff pastry. He leans in, and nips at my ear and then he is kissing my neck. I cannot believe this is happening, and I couldn’t make it up if I tried. 

I’ve had my eyes sort of half shut the entire time, as I can barely keep my heart from malfunctioning, let alone worry about keeping my other organs in working business.  I open my eyes as he’s kissing my neck and I see a family of four that has parked their mini van just across from where we are standing.  And they are staring, just full on staring. The mother and father are eyeing Tom and I angrily, and their school age children are gaping at us.  I stifle a laugh, and Tom must feel it in my throat.  He freezes and it is then that I realize he has his hands resting just under my breasts, flush against my ribs.  Oy.

“What’s funny?” He whispers into my neck, his breath hot and choppy.  This makes me genuinely laugh, and I tilt my head back farther.  Tom’s sort of stooped over, so he can reach my neck, and I realize we probably shouldn’t have started making out in the parking lot of the Father’s Day Festival.

“There’s a very curious family of four watching us at the moment.” I say between giggles.  Tom curses under his breath, and then stands up straight.  He grabs my hand, which is still under his shirt and then pulls it out and shoves it to my side.  He glances to the right, makes eye contact with the dad and he clears his throat.

“Hi. Lovely night.  Try the pastries at Tiny Baker.  They’re great.” He calls out.  “Happy Father’s Day!” He adds and I burst into giggles.  I hide behind him, muffling my laughter in his back.  Tom waves lamely as the family grumbles and then keeps walking quickly away.

“Oh my god, you absolute potato.” I mumble into his back, wrapping my arms around his middle.  Tom grumbles, turns and then shoves me into the passenger seat.

“You are in so much trouble, Charles.  So much trouble.” He points a finger at me, makes sure I’m tucked inside the car and then slams the door.  He hops into the driver’s side a moment later, and then we are off, rumbling down the deserted town streets, barreling back toward the hobbit hole.