Rose & Her Mate

Chapter-1

Rose p.o.v-

'Your chocolate chip cookies need to be restocked and that guy is back once again asking for a slice of your signature walnut mocha cake.' Becca said as soon as she entered the kitchen making me cringe at her extra sweetened voice for the obvious innuendo. I turned to glare at her but could not do that as she was blinking her eyes rapidly and making kissing faces. So I frowned and continued to whip the eggs for my next batch of blueberry muffins.

For the life of me I could not figure out why we are friends. I was whipping the eggs too fast to vent my frustration so some of the content flew out and landed on the counter making me slow down and stop for the time being. Releasing a sigh I couldn't help but smile at our antics. I sense a bit of familiarity in her a kind of déjà vu. I feel that may be I was a bit like her in my past forgotten years. Her ability to express herself freely, wearing her heart on her sleeves is something that makes me ease myself. It makes me give her a leeway in everything. May be I want to be like her in that aspect as I know that I can never express myself as naturally as her.

I am broken out of my stupor when I felt a side push and someone grab my arm for my stability.

'Where are you lost, rosy? Dreaming about Mr. Hunk?' Becca said in a teasing voice.

'You know that I do not like him. I do not feel comfortable around him.' My voice came out a bit more serious than I expected. Seeing how it made me a bit uncomfortable she sobered up and looked at me sincerely.

'It is fine; you will someday meet him, who will make you forget all about your worries and loosen up to him. And then I will proudly marry you off.' She smiled cheekily and left to take orders.

I looked at her retreating back with a heavy heart. I don't think that I will ever feel comfortable enough with anyone to let my guard down. To let a person come near me with the intention of romance I don't believe that could happen to me in this life time. I close up every time I feel a stranger approaching me. I feel like ants crawling on my skin when I sense someone come close to me with the intent to touch me or hold hands. The mere thought of someone coming in contact with me or me taking the initiative fills me up with dread. I feel nauseous, like the walls are closing on me. I will get crushed if I did not escape from it.

Sugary smell wafted up my nose making me come out of my miasmic thoughts. Instinctively I look right and notice that caramel is burnt. Hurriedly I took the pan off the stove and turn off the gas. This is the first time since I took charge of this place that I burnt anything much less sugar. Drumming my fingers on the slab I look around my kitchen. I am proud of my little establishment- 'we bake you bite.'

Baking is my only solace. Period. The lingering fragrance of sweet and various essences keeps my mind in present. It helps me focus on now, not on the dreadful memories.

Moreover baking was the only thing I knew of when I woke up in a strange place. I still remember like it happened yesterday.

I was hurting all over and my mind was blank. When I finally gathered enough strength and opened my eyes I was in a place that I cannot recall. I did not know where I used to live or who my parents were. I could not even recall my name. Whenever I tried to remember I just drew a blank. There were two people in room old enough to be my grandparents sitting on chairs smiling and chatting. I drew their attention when I tried to speak but coughed violently. The elder lady quickly reached my side and help me drank a bit of water. She personally soon fed me since I could not lift my hand.

After asking many questions and trying numerous times I still could not remember a thing. They gave me a name Rose; there were two reasons for the same. One is that rose was the name of their daughter who had died in an accident when she was eighteen and other was that there was a tattoo of silver rose in the inside of my left wrist. The tattoo was beautiful. It was outlined with black and red color and filled with silver ink with a single leaf that was of same pattern. I was mesmerized by the sight and instantly fell in love with it. As the time passed my injuries slowly healed but I still could not recall a single thing. Then Grandpa Ben and grandma Lizbeth took me in. It was by chance that I discovered that baking came naturally to me. My hands would automatically start tempering with the ingredients in kitchen and the result would be mouth watering.

After my fortunate encounter with baking lizzy allowed me to enter her bakery and help her. I started with easy things like cookies and breads and gradually moved to more complex baked goods. Lizzy too taught me many recipes. My favorite of her was Apple pie. She taught me and together we bonded like real grandma and granddaughter. I was a bit reserved when it came to meeting new people. There was something that stops me from opening up. When workload increased lizzy hired help and that was how I met Rebecca. I never came to know when we became as thick as thieves.

Whenever I had free time from baking I would head over to Grandpa Ben's office. He most of the time would work out of town as dealing in arms required going in and out of town frequently. I sometime wondered how he kept himself fit and lizzy too. Apart from their grey hairs and lingering wrinkles they were both fit as a fiddle. Ben and I bonded over books. I had never believed anyone if they told me that my grandpa who looks so rough and tough would cry like a baby while reading romance books! I would not have believed it if I had not caught him red handed in the act. So we enjoyed our together time reading books and crying silently whenever an emotional scene was read.

Life was going good, I was happy with my little world but I did not know that danger was lurking just around the corner. What happened a few months back...

I returned to my world of baking when I head sharp beeping coming from my oven. It was the indicator that it was time to let the goods out. Once again my cookies saved me from an unhappy trip down the memory lane. I shuddered and quickly hurried over to oven. Covering my hands with mitten gloves I opened the door and was welcomed by delicious aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. If I were to open it even I tiny bit late they would have lost their crispiness and become hard to chew.

'Whew! In nick of time.' I murmured and put the tray on table. I took one cookie after blowing on it few times I gently took a bite and instantly was lost in world of chocolaty goodness.

Chocolate is love. I thought that if I could marry chocolate I definitely would.

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