Icing on the Cake (Wild Wedding Series Book 2) Page 5

  “Oh, um, well, I just finished the last of the cupcakes so—”

  “Wait, I thought you said you were wrapping those up the last time we talked?”

  Cassie braced for an overreaction, then confessed. “Had a bit of a fire.”

  “What?!”

  “Long story, but it doesn’t matter because everything’s fine and I’m all caught up now.” She spoke quickly, in the hopes of preventing Amateur Detective Ramsey-Grant from digging any deeper. “Tomorrow I just have to finish up Matthew’s cake and put the finishing touches on the wedding cake.” The fondant adornments were already made, which meant all she had to do was frost and assemble the three-tier cake. “So I should be good to go long before the rehearsal.”

  “Great, because I was hoping to steal you away for a mani-pedi.”

  “That might be cutting it close but let me see how much I can get done. What time are you getting here?”

  “Sometime late tomorrow morning. Cole keeps insisting we take the private jet, but I think it’s a colossal waste of fuel. I mean, what is it, like an hour-long flight?”

  “Not sure. I drove.” Cassie washed and rinsed the pastry bag, turning it inside out to dry. “But since when do you give up that easily?” Olivia and Cole took arguing to a whole new level, an art form really. It was what brought them together in the first place and it was definitely what kept them in a state of constant attraction. Cassie couldn’t imagine a fight being such a turn on, but for her best friend and her husband, a good argument was the ultimate foreplay. Most of the time the topic was inconsequential—to them it was about the thrill of battle—but in this case the subject at hand was the environment, something close to Olivia’s heart. Cole must have made one hell of a case to get her to go along with him on this one. Cassie smiled to herself. That, or it was one hell of an orgasm.

  “It’s our anniversary,” Olivia explained. “And he wants to celebrate this one at thirty-five thousand feet.”

  So it was the promise of an orgasm. Or many. “Another anniversary, already?” Cassie didn’t even bother to hold back on the teasing tone, although truth be told, the transformation in her friend, not to mention her stuffed-shirt husband, was downright . . . inspiring. Olivia Ramsey had gone from a jaded, all-work-and-no-play anti-romantic to a lovey-dovey let’s-celebrate-every-monthly-milestone sap. As for Cole, he’d been all work and all play, although in Cassie’s opinion it was the wrong kind. But all that changed after a walk down the aisle with Elvis and Angus Young. Complete with a Priscilla Presley/Bride of Frankenstein makeover for the bride, Cole and Olivia’s wedding had been outrageous even for Vegas. Cassie wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen the photos Cole had snapped with his phone, but it was all true. As was the fact that the two love birds were dangerously close to being sickeningly sweet, even for a romantic pastry chef such as herself.

  “Mmm-hmm, nine months.” The smile in Olivia’s voice was impossible to miss.

  “You should have told him you wanted to recreate the day it all began,” Cassie said, referencing the commercial flight where Olivia literally fell into Cole’s lap. “Isn’t it only the mile-high club if you do it in a cramped airline lavatory?”

  “As hot as that sounds . . . not! I think he’s a bit more interested in passing the time in his jet’s master cabin.” She lowered her voice. “He told me he bought these soft restraints that run under the mattress. Sort of a step up from tying me to the bedpost with my panties.” Olivia giggled, a sound Cassie still wasn’t quite used to hearing from her previously subdued friend. “Guess you could say he’s raising the bar. Oh! Speaking of bars . . . last week he brought home this spreader bar and—”

  “TMI!” Cassie shouted.

  Olivia laughed. Sometimes Cassie wondered if the stories she recounted were true or if she embellished them for effect. Either way, she certainly elicited a reaction. “All right, get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Night-night,” Cassie said, before ending the call and tucking her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans. She’d just picked up the tray of cupcakes and was headed toward the refrigerated case when a shadow in the doorway stopped her dead in her tracks. She stumbled and swayed and for the second time in as many hours nearly had to restart the last batch.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” her handsome stranger said. “The front door was open, and I could see the light was still on so . . .”

  She’d left the front door unlocked? That wasn’t like her. Then again, she hadn’t exactly acted much like herself all night. And she had been quite distracted by the near fire, not to mention the near kiss.

  “No, it’s fine. I mean, I shouldn’t have left the door unlocked, but I’m glad that I did. Not that I would have wanted someone to break in, but then you wouldn’t have been able to get in and then you wouldn’t be here, standing in the kitchen with me.” Good grief she was a babbling fool. Cassie took a calming breath in an attempt to stop her motormouth, but there wasn’t much she could do about her racing heart. There was just something about him, something magnetic and dangerous and irresistible all at once. It was a devastating combination that made her feel jittery and excited and more turned-on than she could ever remember feeling in her entire life, even counting the time Robert Pattinson appeared at her local mall to promote the release of Twilight. That had been so intense she’d nearly fainted, something she was embarrassingly close to doing again.

  “I’m glad you came back,” she finally said in a softer, calmer voice.

  In the shadows her stranger looked even more mysterious than he had before, a fact she wouldn’t have thought possible. But when he stepped forward and the light caught his eyes, all thoughts left her but one: their unfinished kiss.

  His gaze fell upon her face before taking in the rest of her in a long sweeping glance. Nothing seemed to go unnoticed, from the stray curls of hair that brushed against her neck to the way the apron pulled across her breasts to the way her jeans hugged her hips. There was so much heat behind those brown eyes, her body sprang to life in a tingling warmth in their wake. “Burning the midnight oil I see.” His voice was rough, betraying the effect his once-over had had on him as well.

  “Have a large order to fill for the weekend.” She smiled, then nodded down at the tray she still held in her hands. “Plus, I had a few cupcakes to remake.”

  Her handsome stranger ran a hand back through his hair and when it fell forward in a perfectly tousled mess, she wanted to reach out and touch it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked, and to imagine what it would feel like clutched between her fingers in a moment of unbridled lust. Cheese and rice, she was a hot mess.

  “Yes,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. “My fault really. I was, after all . . . distracting you.” The expression on her stranger’s face was contrite and yet at the same time not the least bit sorry. Although to be fair, neither was she. In fact, if she was honest with herself what she was most sorry about was that their moment had been interrupted.

  “Which is why I’m here actually.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “It is?”

  “Indeed. Least I can do is offer my services. Hank Green,” he said, bowing with a flourish. “Your humble servant, mademoiselle. Ready to work.”

  Despite the fact that a part of her had hoped he’d been referring to the distraction and that what he’d actually meant was that he was there to finish the kiss he’d nearly started, there was no denying the charm of a man willing to roll up his sleeves in the kitchen. For Cassie it was almost better than foreplay. Add to that the infectious grin, and she was dangerously close to becoming a puddle on the bakery floor.

  “I might look like a bloke who doesn’t know his way around a kitchen, aside from making a mean bowl of cereal. But I’m a fast study.”

  Fast. Fast and furious. Fast and furious against the refrigerator. Or maybe he could just spread her out on the stainless-steel counter, lower his head to her—

  “What’s next on the list
?”

  Jeez Louise. Forget cooking foreplay, she was halfway to the finish line all on her own. But instead of taking him up on his offer and seeing if one thing might lead to another, Cassie opened her mouth and words came out as if on autopilot. “Umm, actually, I’m done for the night,” she said. “This is the last batch of replacement cupcakes.”

  It was official, she had zero moves. That or she’d spent so much time with inanimate objects she was actually starting to lose her mind. An unbelievably hot stranger was at her doorstep offering to help her in the kitchen. What sane woman would tell him she was just about to lock up? No wonder she hadn’t had sex in nearly two years.

  To her relief, Hank Green wasn’t giving up so easily.

  “There has to be something else on the list.” He glanced around the nearly spotless kitchen until his gaze fell on the bowl of oversized strawberries visible through the refrigerator’s glass door. “What about those, are they good to go as you say, or do they need to be dipped and drizzled?”

  A small giggle bubbled up from deep inside her. “Dipped and drizzled?”

  “Covered with chocolate and then decorated with little zigzags or sprinkles of some sort?”

  “Fan of decorating confections are you?”

  “Actually, more a fan of eating them.”

  “So, more consumer than manufacturer?”

  “Precisely.” His face darkened with sensual promise. “Although I do consider myself somewhat of an expert when it comes to consuming delicacies.”

  Cassie couldn’t help but wonder if they were still talking about frosted fruit. A delicious tingle ran down her spine at the realization that, lack of modesty aside, her handsome stranger was probably quite proficient in many areas, none of which involved stand mixers and convection ovens.

  “So, am I hired?”

  The word “yes” blinked in front of her eyes like an old-fashioned movie marquee but before she could answer he sweetened the deal. “I’m a very hard worker and I require no pay.”

  That darn dimple made another appearance along with the smile from earlier in the day, the one that Cassie was quite sure got him out of trouble or into it, depending on his mood.

  “Well,” he said, “other than perhaps a kiss.”

  “A kiss?” she squeaked. Honestly, she sounded like Peter Brady going through puberty.

  He nodded. “Mmm-hmm, to finish the one we started earlier.”

  The bulbs on the mental marquee flashed so quickly, one of them popped.

  Cassie swallowed to find her voice then placed the tray of cupcakes on the counter and gave him her sweetest, most indulgent smile. “So let me get this straight. A near kiss resulted in a batch of burned bakery items, which you are now offering to help replace in exchange for completion of said kiss?”

  He grinned. “Has a nice symmetry to it, don’t you think?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “You’re assuming I was going to allow you to kiss me in the first place.” She might have been about to spontaneously combust, but she didn’t have to come off as a totally sure thing. Oh, who was she kidding? Pheromones were probably rolling off her in waves.

  Her stranger’s eyes glimmered. “I do like a challenge.” He reached for an apron that hung on a hook by the door. “Give me an hour.”

  “To seduce me?”

  “No, the hour is for dipping the strawberries. I only need five minutes for the seduction,” he said matter-of-factly.

  On other men such a declaration would have come off as cocky. But on him the confidence he exuded not only worked, it worked well. Despite his casual attire, another button-down—a pale green and white stripe—paired with a darker denim and no baseball cap, there was an air of authority about him. This was a man who wasn’t used to hearing the word “no,” and if the hum vibrating deep within her was any indication, he wasn’t likely to hear it tonight either.

  “Do we have a deal?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Cassie placed her hand in his and the same spark from earlier passed between them once again. “Deal.”

  “Excellent.” Her stranger brought her hand to his lips, pressing them ever so softly against her skin. Then he looked up and flashed a grin that made her want to forget all about the strawberries and go straight to the unfinished kiss. “Where do we begin?”

  He slipped the top loop of the apron over his neck and began to tie the strings behind his back. The image of Mr. Sexy Confidence in a red gingham apron was too much and although she tried her best to stifle it, another giggle escaped her lips.

  Hank looked up at her from beneath the soft brown hair that had fallen across his brow. “Mocking the help?” He tsked in disapproval but his face was lit with a warm smile.

  “Sorry,” Cassie said, trying her best to regain her composure. “It’s just . . . well, red is a good color on you.”

  “Just trying to protect my clothes.” A playful gleam filled his eyes. “I could take them all off if you prefer? Although I imagine that might break a few of your health codes.”

  “No, no,” she stammered. “The apron will do just fine.”

  “Good, because I am rather partial to the little ruffles,” he said, flicking his finger at the eyelet that trimmed the top of the apron. “Okay, now that I’m properly suited up, where do you want me?”

  Dear Lord, were there five more loaded words? Where did she want him? On his knees in front of her, hovering over her, looming behind her . . . and those were just the positions that popped into her mind. Something told her that her stranger could conjure a few she’d never even thought of, and at the moment she was game to try them all. “Where did she want him?” wasn’t the question. More like where didn’t she.

  “Right there is fine,” she said, pointing to the large sink against the wall as she made her way to the refrigerator. She pulled out the bowl of oversized strawberries and brought them to the sink along with a colander. “You can wash these while I get the chocolate sauce ready. Just be sure to pat them dry.” She handed him a roll of paper towels. “If there’s any water left on them it will make the chocolate get all bumpy.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hank said with a tiny salute.

  Cassie left him to his chore and went about the kitchen gathering the items she needed for—what was it he called it? Ah yes, dipping and drizzling. It wasn’t lost on her that Hank, while taking his job very seriously, never took his eyes off her. At least not for very long. She did her best to give him a show worth watching, letting her hips sway a little more than necessary as she walked by or arching her back a little more than normal as she reached for something on a high shelf.

  Mutual appreciation aside, they made a good team, and within just a few minutes they had a colander of washed and dried strawberries and two bowls of perfectly melted chocolate.

  “I usually like to get the fruit to room temperature before I coat it,” she said as she assembled everything on the large stainless-steel island in the center of the room. “But I think they will be fine.”

  Hank joined her, watching with great fascination as Cassie placed two trays on the counter, one in front of each of them, then lined them with parchment paper. “Do I sense a bit of competition?” he said, eyeing the two workstations she had created.

  She laughed. “No, I just thought it would be easier if we each had our own space.”

  “Afraid I’ll distract you again?” The look he gave her was almost identical to when he’d been about to kiss her. Only this time the glimmer in his eyes told her he wanted a lot more than just one kiss.

  “Perhaps.” She set the bowl of milk chocolate in front of him. “I’ll use the white chocolate and then we can switch for the drizzle.”

  Hank stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his fingers as though he was about to sit down at a piano. “How does this work?” he asked.

  Cassie picked up a strawberry and leaned closer as she held the fruit over his bowl of melted chocolate.

  “It’s quite simple,” she s
aid, dunking the strawberry into the bowl then giving it a quick twist as she drew it back out. “All in the wrist really.” The lump in her throat made her voice sound husky and deep and more like a phone sex operator than a pastry chef. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had to go and tell him it was best with a little wrist action.

  It was unlikely her comment went unnoticed, but mercifully her stranger said nothing. Instead he merely picked up a strawberry and mimicked her actions. “Like this?” he asked, dipping it ever so slightly into the warm chocolate.

  “Yes, but deeper. Don’t be afraid to get your fingers wet.” Crap, she did it again. She’d been trying out a little subtle flirtation with the swaying hips, but now it seemed as though she’d gone all porn star, at least the audio portion.

  Beside her Hank stilled, but once again said nothing. Cassie tried her best to focus her attention on the task at hand, but she couldn’t resist a sideways glance at her handsome stranger. She watched as he dipped the fruit deeper into the chocolate before lifting the dripping mess out of the bowl.

  “Just be careful of the dangly bits,” she said.

  He cut his eyes at her and she felt a warm blush spread across her face.

  “I meant the excess chocolate.” She was basking in her quick recovery when she stuck her foot so far into her mouth it was amazing she could still speak. “If you swirl the end you get a nice finish.” Christ on a cracker, forget the Barefoot Contessa, she could star in a new show called the Slutty Gourmet. What in the world had gotten into her? She couldn’t have made this stuff up if she tried, and yet for some inexplicable reason double entendre had become second nature.

  A low groan rumbled deep within Hank’s chest. “It’s possible you’ll be the death of me, Little Vixen.”

  Cassie had to bite her lip to hide her smile. B-list audio porn star or not, whatever she was doing was working. Still, there were a lot of strawberries to dip in chocolate that wouldn’t stay melted for very much longer. Her spontaneous combustion would have to wait until after the work was done, which meant it was probably best to change the subject. Quickly.