Just Desserts

Page 3

Wordlessly, she began sorting the supplies they would need. Something simple and hearty would be good. Maybe turkey with avocado slices. There was yesterday’s chicken rice soup that could be reheated, enough remained of it for the two of them to share.
Sebastian moved closer, standing behind her. “What shall I do first?”
Grabbing a breast of turkey, she plopped it down in front of her. “Cut this into thick slices, please.”
His arms came around her, settling on each side of the cutting board. “Show me how thick…please.” He selected a knife from the stand and held it out to her.
“Like this.” Taking the knife, she sliced through the meat. Just as she began to set the knife down, his large hand covered hers.
“Again…please,” he murmured in her ear. He had to stop with those pleases. Those pleases with that voice…a total recipe for her undoing. “I want to make sure it’s perfect for you.”
Muscle memory kept her from totally losing her composure as his skin, hot and smooth, caressed hers. They moved together, the knife an extension of them. “Almost an inch thick, that way it’s still juicy and tender when you bite into it.”
“Hmm.” His lips brushed the lobe of her ear. “And the avocado? I’m rather afraid I need more guidance before tackling that on my own. Please.”
Could she hire him as permanent help? They could prepare everything like this, hand to hand, back to front, his voice in her ear and his mouth on her skin. Yeah, her lady parts were all for that.
Her lady parts were out of their mind.
Flexing her fingers under his, she dropped the knife. “You’ll manage.” She ducked under his arm and almost ran to the freezer. Nothing she needed was in there, except the cold air. A cold shower would be better, but she would work with what she had.
What a day this had turned into. She leaned against the door.
Four years to the day, her mother’s passing still made her heart ache. Still served to remind her that she was alone. Then he had walked in again, all beautiful and cold. And practically giddy over her desserts this time
She couldn’t help but smile and tease him.
Sometimes, there were people you met and BAM!—instant connection (even if it did take a second meeting). Not love at first sight or this is my soul mate. Just…this person makes me feel something other than loneliness. Or sorry for myself. Based on what she’d read about Sebastian on the internet, he was more alone than she was.
An estranged brother, an indifferent cousin, and a seriously evil father in the hospital. Not to mention his mother. However, Sebastian wasn’t exactly a saint. He maneuvered, bought, and sold companies like they were part of a Monopoly set. Then there were the rumors of the Russian Mafia connection, and of his family’s English title being bought from the rightful heirs.
Don’t even get her started about all the women he’d been rumored to have been with—socialites, princesses, and models. All accused him of being scorching hot in the bedroom and cold as Antarctica everywhere else. His response to it all—absolutely nothing. He neither denied nor confirmed.
It was almost gentlemanly.
She blinked. Maybe she should stop reading those gossip sites. Who knew if any of it was true?
“All done, Daisy,” he called out. He sounded happy, maybe even a little proud, while she felt lower than low dwelling on his personal life. One he wasn’t choosing to share with her or anyone else.
“I’m getting the soup.” Hurrying to the refrigerator, she searched the second shelf and found the plastic container. Prying off the lid, she placed the container in the microwave, set the time, and pressed start.
Her thoughts drifted back to the scorching hot in the bedroom comments. Now that she could believe. She sighed. But really, she couldn’t be too hard on herself for thinking about him like that. Going without sex for two months straight tended to make a woman a little grouchy. Oh, who was she kidding? She was horny as all get out and taking things into her own hands sucked.
Tracing the collar of her cardigan, she let her mind go to all sorts of dirty places involving one viscount, a tub of warm chocolate, and her. She could spread it on his—
“Your thoughts,” Sebastian said, appearing out of nowhere and making her jump.
“My what?” Heat rising to her cheeks, she concentrated on the countdown currently underway and thanked God that only fifteen seconds remained. With ten seconds remaining, she looked up.
He edged closer. “I brought my work with me.” Holding out a plate filled with slices of cheese, bread, turkey, and avocado, he bit the side of his lip. “So…your thoughts.”
I think I should strip you naked and have my way with you. The microwave dinged. “Uh…ah.” She bent her head, studying the plate. “Great job.” She meant it. He’d cut almost every piece as thick as she had shown him. Looking up, she smiled at him. “You’re very handy with a knife, practically a natural.”
Something gleamed in his pale blue eyes. “Thank you.” He set the plate down. “I’ll get bowls for the soup, shall I?”
“You go turn my sign to ‘closed’ while I bring everything else to the table where we were sitting.”
“What about your customers?”
“It’s usually slow on the day leading to New Year’s Eve for in-house customers. I doubt anyone’s shopping for dessert right now. Besides, all my pick-up orders have already been, well, picked up.”
He inclined his head and headed to the front. She made quick work of gathering everything they needed and placed it on a large tray. As she entered the room, he waited for her by the table, her chair pulled out.
Just as she set the tray down, he leaned over and whispered, “I got over my allergy of good manners.”
She bit back a smile and sat down. “I might have found mine again, too.”
He piled a thick piece of bread with turkey, avocados, and cheese. A charming smile appeared on his face, making her stare at him in wonder. “Shall I call you Daisy instead of Ms. Barnes? I thought if are to break bread together—”
“Breaking bread together? Aren’t you old-fashioned?” She wiggled her brows. “I lik—”
That charming smile disappeared, replaced by nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn’t smile, he didn’t do anything, but kept his handsome face blank. “My apologies. Lunch. I wanted us to be on a first name basis before we ate.” It was then Daisy realized that she had embarrassed him.
She placed her hand over his. “I was going to say that I liked the sound of breaking bread together, especially during this time of year. It’s nice…Sebastian.”
Unfortunately, her explanation didn’t work, because he ate the rest of his meal in silence. She stayed quiet as well, but she couldn’t help but notice that his gaze kept straying to her display of desserts, of all things.
Gah!
Why couldn’t he stare at her boobs like a normal guy? She ate the last bite of her sandwich, washed it down with water, and then leaned back in her chair. “Guess I better clean up and re-open my store.”
“Allow me.”
Openly watching him as he cleared their dishes, she tried to think of something to say before he left. Something nice. Something friendly. Something—
Sebastian beat her to the punch. “May I take your picture to remember this day?”
“Oh-okay.” She stood, and then moved to stand in front of the tiny Christmas tree she’d placed in the corner at the first of the month. Grabbing the Santa Hat from the top of the tree, she pulled it over her head. “How’s this? It’ll hide the I-was-out-of-my-mind orange.”
Nodding, a corner of his mouth kicked up. “Very enterprising.” Holding up his phone, he snapped a couple of pictures.
She felt a little silly standing there, so she plopped the Santa hat on his head and giggled at the sight. He looked so serious with his suit, then so silly with the hat. She wasn’t surprised he’d put his jacket back on. His overcoat lay neatly over a nearby chair. “My turn to take a picture.”
“I really don’t think—” he glanced up at the ceiling, “—is that mistletoe?”
“Yeah, but I put it in the corner so no one would feel obligated to kiss.”
His eyes dropped to her lips. “I don’t feel obligated.”
“Neither do I.” She inched closer, carefully placing her palms on his chest. Dear God, his chest. Even though the layers, it felt broad and muscular. “Oh my mercy,” she whispered.
“Indeed.” He dipped his head and this time when his eyes closed, she didn’t pull away. She didn’t speak, she didn’t think. Instead, she rose on her toes, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and kissed him. And kissed him some more.
“Sebastian,” she murmured against his lips.
“Bastian,” he corrected. “I prefer Bastian, Daisy.”
“Bastian,” she whispered. A better name. Something a girl who was sweet on him would call him between kisses. Like she was doing now.
The kiss deepened, his hands threading in her hair, pulling at the chopsticks that held her bun in place. They hit the floor with a clatter, and then her back hit the wall.
She gasped.
He slid his tongue inside, flicking it at vulnerable spots she didn’t know existed. Or maybe they had and were waiting on him to find them.
Her hair fell, glides of silk over her sensitive skin. His fingers gently touched the sides of her neck. A sensuous path that had her thighs trembling.
Further down his fingers went, hands cupping her shoulders, skimming down her arms, dipping to her chest, and then covering her breasts.
“Perfect,” he groaned.
She sucked his tongue deeper and he squeezed, making her nipples hard and wanting. Hooking a leg around his waist, she jerked him against her, the delicious weight of him making her moan into his mouth. His hand found her thigh, gripping it tight as she ground against him.
Suddenly, he pulled away, his pale eyes unfocused, and then sharpening to their normal frost. “Christ,” he swore. “I hadn’t intended for this to happen.” His grip eased and she lowered her leg. She let go of his lapels as he let go of her breast.
A smile threatened to curve her lips, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. Instead, she stroked the side of his cheek. His jaw clenched and she did it again, wanting to ease his tension.
“Please don’t apologize,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t.” His chin tipped up, full lips thinning. He held up his cell phone. “I have to go.”
Cold washed over and through her. There was no reason she should be embarrassed, but she was. “Alright.”
He strode to the chair and shrugged into his overcoat, then cast a look at her over his shoulder. “Damn it,” he muttered and started for her again, long strides eating up the distance.
Heart swelling and desire rising, she met him halfway and wrapped her arms around his neck. Words weren’t needed in this moment.
His hands settled on the sides of her face. “Daisy.” A statement or a question, she wasn’t sure.
She blinked up at him, this time allowing herself to smile at him. “Yes?”
For a minute, his mask slipped and longing shone in his eyes. “Happy New Year’s in advanced, love.”
“Happy New Year’s, Bastian.” She licked her dry lips. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for while you’re here.” I hope you come back to my store tomorrow, because I’ll be waiting.
He searched her face, as if weighing her words for sincerity. “I already have.”
“Good.”
Lowering his head to hers, he breathed deeply and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, darling.”
Her eyes closed. He held her or rather she held him, their bodies pressed tight once more,so tight that she actually felt his cell phone vibrate against her stomach.
Finally, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Pale blue greeted her. He smiled. An honest-to-goodness smile. His cell phone vibrated again. Her amazing response, “Don’t you need to answer that?”
The mask returned, hard and cold, and she wanted to kick herself. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut and enjoyed the moment?
His hands dropped and he fished his cell phone out of his pocket, reading the screen. Without another word, he pivoted and walked out her front door. Enormous, burly bodyguards followed close behind, their matching black coats swirling around them as they disappeared from her sight.
“Oh my mercy,” she whispered, legs going shaky as she stumbled to a chair and plopped down in it.
Her door jerked open again. Sebastian was back. Her heart jumped up and down in her chest as he drew closer. Wordlessly, he held out his hand and she took it.
He pulled her to him and said, “If I could spend New Year’s with you, I would. I want you to know that.”
“What’s stopping you?” she asked, her knees shaking. This wasn’t what she expected him to say. Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected him to say.
He dipped his head, forehead resting on hers. “Because I don’t deserve to.” Then he kissed her. Softly. Sweetly—so achingly sweet. Breaking their kiss, he turned away from her and left, for good this time, leaving her standing there, staring at empty space.
Chapter Three
Music blared, lights danced, and the drinks flowed freely at Poor Boys, Holland Springs most popular (and only) country music bar.
Daisy sat with her two closest friends, Haven Crawford and Isabella Edwards, at a high table, waiting on another round of drinks.