by Lacey Black
Her face flushes. Damn, if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But it’s quickly followed by her ears turning bright red in rage with the smoke I was wondering about earlier, billowing from her ears. “I’d rather tie you to a tree and let the wildlife feed on your decaying carcass.”
“This is so much better than porn,” Free says to Mara, who gives her a nod and smirk. “You two should just do it already. This beating around the bush, I hate you thing is fun, but I think you’re drawing it out too long. Let’s get to the sex.”
“I’d rather have sex with a porcupine,” Harper retorts, reaching for her beer bottle, but coming up empty. She turns my way and glares, earning a wide smile from me as I bring the beer to my lips and finish it off. “I hate you.”
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly,” I remind her, setting her empty bottle down on the bar and waving over the bartender. He looks familiar, and it only takes me a few seconds to figure out that it’s Brent Tanner, Mara’s husband. “Hey, man,” I say to my former classmate, extending my hand.
“Hey, Latham. Finally home from the Army?” he asks after shaking my hand. He reaches down into the cooler and pulls out another beer, popping off the top, and setting it in front of Harper.
“Home for good,” I confirm. I also realize I’m still wedged between Harper and Free and have my chest plastered to her. I also realize she doesn’t move, so I don’t either.
“Are you buying me another?” I hear over my shoulder and find Felicity standing behind me. She reaches out her hands, latches on to my arm, and pulls me back, essentially cutting off my connection with Harper.
Turning to Brent, who gives me a knowing look, I tell him to grab a round for everyone. While he does, the girls go back to ignoring me, but not really ignoring me, and I go back to trying to extract my body from Felicity’s talons. Finally, when I finish my beer, I set the empty on the counter and wave off another.
“Leaving?” Brent asks.
“Yep. Big day tomorrow.”
“Doctor’s office opens at eight. I’m sure they can give you something for the itch,” my redheaded minx announces loudly to the bar.
Not letting her have the final word, I reply, “Maybe next time you’ll disclose all of your STDs before you maul me in the men’s bathroom and give me crabs.”
She gasps as I throw her a wink, turn, and head toward the exit.
“Bye, Lath! I’ll see you tomorrow,” Felicity hollers.
I throw a wave over my shoulder without turning around and push through the door. Before I’m completely out of sight, I glance back, enjoying one last look of those long legs and short shorts. It’ll be those images that accompany me to bed later tonight. I’ll even pretend she’s using those legs for good and not trying to strangle me with them.
Smiling, I open my truck door, slide the key in the ignition, and give it a crank. My ears instantly start to bleed when Britney Spears blasts through the speakers at full volume. “Fuck!” I holler, my fingers fumbling with the knob. Once I’m bathed in silence, I can’t help but laugh. Funny, she’d pick “…Baby One More Time” to play as her form of torture.
Good call.
However, one thing she may not realize: one time will never be enough. I’ll always want more.
Chapter Seven
Harper
It’s a beautiful day. I mean picture perfect, sun is shining high in the sky, you can taste the salt on the ocean breeze day. My favorite kinda day.
Free is opening the shop for me, which gives me an extra two hours this morning to run my errands. I’ve already stopped at the bank, the post office, and am heading to the market to grab a few things to stock in the fridge for my lunches and snacks. Just opposite the market is the bakery that opened a handful of years back by a fellow Rockland Falls alumni. Jasmine Clifton had her grand opening of Sugar and Spice nearly five years ago. She was a couple of years younger than I was in school, but I remember her as the person we all went to for the best bake sale treats.
Her window catches my attention immediately. There are three gorgeous, intricate wedding cakes on display of all shapes and sizes. Since we don’t have any hotels, nor resorts for things like destination weddings, the ones that do happen in town are usually on the smaller side, at one of the many small churches or maybe even on the beach. There’s nothing more beautiful than a beachside wedding.
My stomach growls as I stare at the detail on the three cakes. One is pure, bright white with a softer off-white lace overlay. It’s simple, classic, and stunning. The second cake is tall with brightly colored flowers flowing from the top tier and down the sides like a beautifully flowing stream. The third cake is small, with only two fat tiers, but the intricate sugar sand and seashells sets it completely apart from the others. Anyone having a beach wedding would want this cake at their reception.
I have no idea how long I stand there and stare, but I don’t care. The cakes are stunning, but I bet they taste even better. I mean, it is almost lunchtime, and I have yet to eat. The sign in front of the cakes draws my attention. Cake samples available for bride/groom.
I bet they have chocolate.
“Whatcha doin’?” a voice whispers in my ear, making me jump a foot in the air.
“Jesus, Latham, creeper much?” I ask, turning his way and holding a hand to my racing heart.
“Not my fault you were lusting over the cake and didn’t hear me approach.” He shrugs his wide shoulders, his blue Douglas Hardware polo molded to his impressive arms and chest, but what really draws my attention right now is his throat. It’s thick and dusted with a coarse matting of dark hair. It makes me want to lick it, and I’ve never wanted to lick a neck before.
Until now.
“Don’t you have babies to scare?” I ask, giving him my back and turning to face the yummy cakes.
“‘Fraid not, sweetness. I have nothing but free time and no one to torture but you.”
“Lucky me,” I grumble without turning back to face him.
I see his shadow fall over the window and feel the heat radiating from his body as he steps up behind me. And I can smell him. It’s a combination of musky soap and fresh cut wood. It surprises me how much I actually really like the scent. I like it so much I actually sway his way, just the slightest, but of course, he notices, offering me that stupid cocky smirk, reflecting in the window, I want to punch right off his face. And then kiss his full lips. The combination makes my body tingle.
Stupid, traitorous body.
“I bet that’s chocolate cake,” he whispers. The bastard knows my weakness.
“Who cares?” I ask, though my voice holds no conviction.
Latham chuckles. “I bet you do. If memory serves me correctly, you would do anything for chocolate cake.”
“That was one time in fifth grade,” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest.
Stepping into my personal space, he practically plasters his body to mine. His breath tickles my neck as he asks, “What was it that you did again?”
Not one to back down, even though I really could use a little distance between us so I can think, I reply with a sweet smile. “I duct taped Nicholas Leitz to the swingset.”
“And why did you do that?”
Closing my eyes, I sigh in resignation. “So I could have the last piece of chocolate cake.”
“It was his birthday, Harper!”
“I know!” I bellow, making him laugh. The next thing I know, we’re both laughing right there on the sidewalk. The way his entire face lights up when he smiles makes me forget for just a few seconds that I hate him. We both stare at the cakes, neither one of us really saying anything else.
Suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
The bell chimes as we enter the cool bakery, the scent of sugar and cinnamon permeating the air. My mouth instantly starts to water. “Holy mother of all things chocolate, do you see this?” I
ask, my feet carrying me to the display case. Chocolate scones, s’mores brownies, double chocolate fudge, and Bavarian cream chocolate iced donuts. I don’t care if I have to spin for two hours every night for the rest of my life, I’d do just about anything for that donut.
“Can I help you?” Jasmine asks as she comes from the back area. “Oh, hey, Harper! How are you?”
“I’m so good right now, Jasmine. Can I get one of those donuts?” I ask, drool probably hanging from my chin as she giggles and retrieves a wax paper square for my breakfast. Or lunch, I guess, since it’s closer to noon than breakfast time.
That’s also when I notice the free samples on the counter. Fudge. Samples. I barely even chew as I reach for the first piece and slide it into my mouth, the rich sweetness hitting my tongue and setting my senses ablaze. “Holy shit,” I mumble with my mouth full.
“My little muffin-bottom loves chocolate, doesn’t she?” Latham coos in a sugary sweet voice, drawing my attention, as well as Jasmine’s.
“Excuse me?” I ask, whipping around to face him and giving him my trademark death stare. Oh, my mouth’s still full, by the way.
“Hi, Jasmine, I’m not sure if you remember me. Latham Douglas,” he says, extending his hand over the counter.
“Oh, Latham, of course! How have you been? Are you back in town?”
“I am, thanks. I just couldn’t stay away from my little pookie any longer,” he says, grabbing my hand.
I swallow hard over the fudge and give him a look. What the fuck is he talking about?
“Wait, are you…are you guys together?” Jasmine asks, her face alive with excitement.
Before I can say “Fuck no!” Latham opens his big-ass mouth. “We are!”
“Fuck,” I grumble, trying to pry my hand from his grip.
“And…we’re getting married!” he announces to God and the only woman within hearing distance.
“Shut up!” she screams, clapping her hands with excitement.
“Yeah, shut up,” I mutter, my mouth hanging open.
“So, I thought we’d stop in and try some of those cake samples you posted about in the display,” Latham says, bringing my hand to his mouth and placing tender kisses along my knuckles.
I can’t breathe.
“Absolutely! Do you have a date set yet?” she asks, glancing between my new fiancé and me.
“Not yet, Jasmine. It’s a fairly new development.”
“Really new,” I whisper, watching as his lips continue to dance on my skin.
“I’m so excited! Let me go grab some samples. Meet me over at that table in the corner,” she hollers as she turns and retreats to the back room.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I growl, ripping my hand from his and hitting him across the shoulder. The very hard, unforgiving shoulder. My hand throbs, but I’m not about to give him the satisfaction that his stupid muscles injured my hand.
“What? I thought you’d be happy. Now you get chocolate cake,” he reasons, leading me to the table.
I plop down hard in the chair and rub my throbbing temples. “You could have just bought me some chocolate, Latham. You didn’t have to tell her we were getting married, you big, dumb idiot!”
He sits down across from me. “Oh, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“At what time did a fake engagement seem like a good idea, Latham?”
He just smirks. “It’s okay to admit you’re a little excited at the thought of being my betrothed.”
“I’d rather streak naked through the town square on Sunday morning, right after church.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that, actually,” Latham says, leaning back in the chair, his big long legs extended out casually before him so that the front two legs lift off the floor.
“You’ll never see it. Ever,” I growl, kicking my foot out and pushing against the chair. Latham teeters for a second before realization sets in. He falls backward, going down hard, his back and the chair hitting the floor with a loud, wood-splitting crunch.
“Oh my word, are you okay?” Jasmine comes running in, a platter of cake samples in her hand.
“He’s fine,” I reply with a nonchalant wave, not even looking over at my stupid fake fiancé as he climbs off the floor. Jasmine sets the platter down and goes to Latham, trying to help him off the floor. “Is this chocolate?” I ask, diving into the first cake sample without a care in the world.
“It is,” Jasmine replies, a little out of sorts. I can feel her eyes as she glances from Latham to me, probably trying to determine how I can be so unconcerned at my fiancé being laid out on the floor. That thought makes me giggle.
“Something funny?” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath tickling my earlobe. I admit I shiver. Just a little.
“Are you okay, dimple bottom?” I ask, chewing my first chocolate cake sample and offering him a victorious grin.
“I’m fine, sweet cheeks. Falling more in love with you every second of every day,” he coos, stroking one of his big fingers down my jaw. His words finally register: love.
And suddenly, I’m choking on my cake.
Latham starts pounding on my back as I gasp and swallow my mouthful.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Jasmine comes over holding her hands to her mouth. “I hope the pieces weren’t cut too big,” she adds, glancing down at the platter.
“No,” I gasp, wiping away the tears that developed, “it’s fine. They’re fine. I just got so…choked up on my…love for Latham.” His name comes out a whisper.
“See, she’s fine. We just can’t contain our love,” Latham flaps, offering Jasmine a wide smile. It’s a charismatic one that makes women everywhere giggle like schoolgirls.
And cue the giggle in three…two…one…
Jasmine giggles. “Let’s have a seat. I usually have more flavors to sample, but since you’ve just stopped in, I don’t have a full variety. But this is a good start,” she says, handing Latham the match to the sample I already tried. “This is double chocolate cake with a mocha and French vanilla icing.”
I watch as Latham brings it to his mouth. I can’t take it anymore. I need it. So, I reach out and take the cake and shove it in my mouth. He laughs, while Jasmine looks at me like I’m a monster. No, Latham is the cake-eating monster. This was his brilliant idea, so I get all the cake.
“Good?” he asks, licking the bits of cake and icing left on his fingers.
“So good.” Yes, my mouth is full when I say it.
“Wow, okay,” Jasmine says, her wide eyes full of shock. “I guess you like that one. This one,” she says, pushing a sample toward each of us, “is a banana cream cake with white chocolate fudge icing.” I shove the sample into my mouth whole. “It’s fabulous with fresh bananas layered with milk chocolate fudge.”
“Jesus, Latham, did you taste this?” I ask, glancing at my pseudo-fiancé. He has yet to eat his sample, but is intensely watching me devour mine. He slowly takes a bite, a drop of white chocolate icing dotting his upper lip. I want to lick it.
I’m sure that’s the icing talking…
“It’s delicious, giggle lips.”
“What else do you have?” I ask, glancing down lovingly at the succulent little samples of cake.
“My goodness, you do love your sweets. I’d do anything to have your metabolism,” Jasmine says, sliding a third sample in front of me.
“Oh, it’s starting to catch up with her, isn’t that right, gingersnap?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, glaring at him across the table, savoring the sweet strawberry cake piece.
“Oh, it’s nothing, angel cakes. I don’t care at all that you’ve put on a little weight,” he assures me, the cake in my mouth suddenly turning dry and heavy.
“Weight? But Harper still looks as amazing as ever,” Jasmine says with an uncomfortable chuckle.
“She does,” Latham assures. “I just can’t help but notice how much she’s been eating lately. And she’s putting it on in the middle.
It makes me wonder if maybe…” he says, looking down at my stomach.
I glance down, trying to figure out what in the hell he’s talking about, when suddenly, Jasmine bursts with excitement. “Oh my God, she’s pregnant!”
“What?” I wheeze, gulping down the sawdust cake.
“Well, I don’t know for sure, but there are signs,” Latham says casually, taking a healthy bite of strawberry cake. “Wow, this one is delicious. It might be my favorite. What do you think, Mama?”
I stare at him, wide-eyed and too shocked to speak. Whatever I attempt to say comes out a squeak. The rest of the tasting continues, and I barely participate. I’m stuck on the fact I’m apparently engaged and suddenly pregnant. It’s not the engagement that has me speechless, but the nonexistent pregnancy. I’ve always wanted a baby, and abruptly, the thought of actually having one seems almost…real.
Except I haven’t had sex in more than six months.
Pretty sure a baby at this point would be a miracle.
“This is so exciting,” Jasmine sings, and I don’t dispute her claim.
Well, not really her claim.
Latham’s.
He’s sitting over there, all cocky and proud, and wearing a smirk while he boosts about how amazing the cake samples are. I’m sitting here, pissed as hell as he ruined this cake-infused moment, and now worried I’m carrying a few extra pounds in the waist area. Just goes to show how low he’d stoop to have the final say.
Or the property.
He’s getting in my head, and I can’t have that. I need to stand strong and not wobble under his brand of meanness. I can outsmart anything Mr. Latham Douglas throws at me. I mean, he used cake to his benefit today and look where that got me? Engaged and apparently pregnant.
Asshole.
He may have won this round, but he won’t win the war.
* * *
I can’t help but giggle as I click enter, confirming my order for first thing Friday morning. The express two-day shipping costs a small fortune, but it’ll be worth it. Except, I won’t be able to see the look on his face when he opens it.