A Pocketful of Gems

Chapter 8: Epilogue - and snipped off her nose - Part 1

"Nicely done, Gem."

Dad kissed my temple and picked up the tray of freshly baked bagels.

"Clara, honey, I've finished the bagel order for Mrs. Boon's Bed and Breakfast."

"Oh, good timing honey, gives us time to squeeze in a small order," Clara's ponytail swung as she ducked around one of the part-timers rushing by with several sticks of butter. "Michael wants a torte for the dinner his wife is hosting tomorrow."

"I know twelve Michaels."

She glared at him, "Grant."

"Oh, yea, Wanda's dinner... we're supposed to go to that."

"I didn't forget, Marcus." She kissed him on the lips and smacked his butt with her tablet, "get back to work."

"Yes, my lady."

Clara sat on the stool beside me.

"Good work with the bagels, Gem."

"Anytime." I wiped my hands in my apron.

"You got things for me tomorrow night, right," she laid the tablet on her lap, "I'm going to that dinner party with Mark."

"Yea."

"Great, then don't mind me, just enjoying the view." She watched Mark working, a small smile on her lips. Clara and Spencer's dad, Marcus, have been dating for about five months now and were already like an old married couple. Speaking of married couples. I glanced around for my better half.

"Hmm," I smiled at Clara, "I think I'll go do that, too."

                               -

I wandered off to where I'd seen the part-timer taking the butter. Abel was sitting on a stool texting and drinking a soda while Spencer rolled dough and butter. The part-timer looked up at me and frowned. I smiled at her politely and put my arms around Spencer's waist, kissed the nape of his neck.

"Please refrain from distracting him when he's baking, Mrs. Meyer," Abel looked up from his phone, "his mind will blank and he'll forget what he's suppose to be making."

"Funny, Abel, funny." Spencer turned in my arms and kissed my lips, "how'd the bagels go?"

I grinned wide, "they came out beautifully."

"Unassisted?" Abel asked.

I smiled wider.

"Way to go, I'll tell Eve."

Spencer kissed me deeper and turned back to his laminated dough. I loosened my arms around his waist.

"Where are you going?" he didn't turn around.

"I have an assignment to finish."

"Later," he pushed his hips back into me. "Stay and keep me company."

"What's in it for me?"

"You get to feel my abs while I'm rolling."

"Jenny," Dad called to the part-timer, "come help me with a torte and Mrs. Meyer, refrain from distracting Spencer when he's baking. His mind will blank and he'll forget what he's supposed to be making."

"I told her that," Abel said.

"Ignore the old fart, Gem."

I kissed the back of Spencer's ear, "I'm gonna go start my assignment. I'm up front if you need me."

"I really want you to stay with me," he pouted. He folded his arms over a flour covered grey tee and lent his hip against his work bench. "Abe won't feel my abs."

"Abe's not into you like that anymore," Abel said not looking up from his phone. He typed out a message and looked up. "Also, Abe likes not having his fingers broken by your super jealous girl friend."

"I don't mind if you take over for me today, Abel." I handed him one of Spencer's apron strings as I walked by. I waved over my shoulder to Spencer and called back to Abel, "he likes when you scratch a little."

"Abe... no." I heard Spencer's hysterical giggling and glanced back to see Abe tickling him senseless. I shook my head and went out front where the half full café buzzed with the charged energy of multiple conversations occurring simultaneously. Over the few months I've been at the Sunshine Bakery I've found the buzz soothing whenever I had some tedious task to complete, like homework or entering stock and checking inventory.

                                    -

I sat in the little cubicle that had now become mine and Clara's and pulled my bag out from under the desk.

I was twelve lines into a history question answer when I was asked, "why does everyone call you that?"

"Call me what, Jennifer?" I asked not looking up from my writing.

"Mrs. Meyer? You're not married to Spence."

"No, not yet I'm not." I flipped the pen in my hand, "and you will call him Spencer or Mr. Meyer."

"You're not married to him."

"No, not yet I'm not," I dropped the pen on the desk and looked up at her, "but that doesn't change the fact that he's mine and I'm his. I know you like him and I can't fault you that, but you need to respect that our relationship is not something I take lightly."

"Gem, are you threatening our part-timer?" Spencer came out the bakery. "Cut it out, she's a good worker."

"Then she should work more and flirt less."

"Jealousy suits you," he smiled. I glared at him and he bit his lip. I squirmed.

"And you're a tease."

"Only if you ignore my offering...I understand you need to keep Jenny in place and all, but I have a break till all that butter and dough is cold and firm enough to roll and was hoping you'd want to see me changing this shirt. Upstairs? Right now?"

He lifted the hem of his shirt exposing his stomach and the bit of his pelvis bone peeking out just above the top of his jeans, making both Jennifer and I blush.

"Just remember what I said, Jenny, mine, mine, mine." I patted her on the back as I hurried pass.

Spencer led me upstairs by one hand.

"Leave Jenny alone, I hardly noticed she was flirting."

"I know you didn't," I admitted.

"Then why confront her?"

"I wasn't going to, she opened the issue," at the top of the stairs he pulled me in and kissed me. "Let me touch you a bit."

"I'd like that." He moaned when my hand stroked his hip bone beneath his t-shirt. I pressed him against the door and kissed his neck. "Don't you mark me, Gemma."

"Wasn't planning to, I already know you're mine."

"Good," he smiled and I pulled his shirt over his head. "I only have 20 minutes."

"I only need 10," he raised his brows at me, "I'm still confined to a limited touching zone."

"Well, complaining isn't gonna help you." He turned in my arms and opened the door into the apartment. "Put some water in Gunter's bowl please, I'll meet you in my room."

"I'm not complaining," I told him. "We have these rules in place for a reason and I respect that reason."

He opened his mouth and looked down, "yea."

I had a sneaking suspicion he meant to say something else.

"Here," I tossed him his shirt and went to the kitchen.

                         
                              ***
This is part 1 of the last chapter of A Pocketful of Gems. I hope you enjoyed it.
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