The Delicious Series: The First Volume

by Stella Starling

  Stop worrying. We’re fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

  He laughed at her second, unprompted text. Easier said than done, though.

  Gavin, go back to sleep. Enjoy a morning with no baking. I promise I’ll take care of your baby.

  There was no chance he’d be able to go back to sleep, but he had to admit, he didn’t exactly miss doing the 4 a.m. baking. Baking on a commercial scale was a necessary chore, but it wasn’t at all like the type of baking he’d originally fallen in love with.

  Thanks, Luce.

  He tucked his phone into his back pocket after he’d sent the reply, then levered himself to his feet and hopped over to his crutches. Tucking them under his arms with a quiet groan, he headed for Ben’s kitchen. The man had been true to his word, bringing home everything on the grocery list Gavin had given him without any complaint… even though he’d also admitted that he didn’t have a clue what to do with the majority of it.

  “Now you’ll have to stick around,” Ben had told him with a sexy wink, referring to Gavin’s ongoing concern about overstaying his welcome. “At least until you manage to teach me what to do with all of this.”

  But of course, that had been before the awkwardness of the night before. An awkwardness that Gavin sincerely hoped didn’t spell the end of their comfortable relationship.

  Friendship, he meant, since that’s all it was.

  Gavin sighed. He’d just have to wait and see how things played out between the two of them this morning to find out. For all he knew, Ben may well have spent the entire night having a straight-guy freak out about the fact that another man was attracted to him. Which, admittedly, seemed out of character for the other man, but the whole thing had definitely thrown Ben for a loop the night before. After the easy joking that the two of them generally fell into, Gavin had to admit that Ben’s reaction had surprised him a little.

  He’d expected something different. Even disregarding the part of him that had wanted to hope for the unlikely—that Ben would have suddenly seen Gavin in a whole new light, would have decided that he wanted him, would have—

  Gavin shook his head, chuffing out a breath as he flipped the lights on in the kitchen. He needed to stop letting his mind go there. But really, even disregarding that vain hope, he would have thought easy-going Ben would have been a little more relaxed about the whole thing. The man didn’t strike him as even remotely homophobic. Had it really been that off-putting to find out that the way he’d been touching Gavin had turned him on?

  Okay.

  Time to shut that down.

  He was just going to have to wait and see how Ben acted toward him when he woke up. In the meantime, Gavin would bake.

  His earliest memories involved shaping soft dough with his mother in the kitchen. He’d been ten when she’d lost her battle with cancer, and his memories of her outside the kitchen were hazy. The yeasty smell of rising bread, the sweet enticement of baking cookies, the welcoming scent of cinnamon and sugar, all of those things were inextricably combined in his memory with the sound of her happy laughter and the warm feeling of satisfaction when she’d praised his efforts. He could remember the shape of her hands better than her face, could see them clearly, covering his own as she’d taught him to knead and roll and create all the delicious treats that had filled the happiest part of his childhood.

  The last time Gavin had baked just because he wanted to had been long before he’d opened Delicious. He used to love to experiment with recipes, try out different combinations of ingredients in small batches just to see how they turned out. In addition to all the non-baking work that had been involved with starting a new business, he’d spent a good year or so before he’d opened the his doors hunting down suppliers, refining his favorite recipes until he could guarantee a consistent level quality, and then translating them into commercial proportions. His customers’ appreciation of the end result was satisfying… but baking the same things over and over in industrial quantities wasn’t fun.

  He had almost two hours before Ben got up for his morning run. Three before the man returned. Plenty of time for dough to rise so he could do a proper batch of cinnamon rolls. He even had some ideas of how to modify his mother’s recipe to make them healthier, since that mattered to Ben.

  He hummed under his breath as he pulled out a mixing bowl and ingredients. Ben’s kitchen was far nicer than the cramped space in his own apartment, and Gavin already felt comfortable in it. Ben’s insistence that Gavin make himself at home had felt genuine, and he’d taken the man at his word.

  Ben’s home was lovely—exactly the type of place that Gavin would look for once he stopped pouring all his profits back into the bakery. But it wasn’t just the spacious layout and minimalist decorating style that appealed to him; Ben was just as much of a neatnik as Gavin was. It was a trait that had driven many of his past boyfriends crazy, but just like Gavin, Ben seemed to be a firm believer in “a place for everything, and everything in its place.”

  Gavin approved.

  Although sometimes, God, those places could be damn inconvenient when they were chosen by someone a head taller than he was.

  Gavin stared up at the sifter he needed in dismay. He supposed he was just lucky that Ben actually had one—the man’s kitchen was well-stocked enough that Gavin suspected someone else’s influence, probably Charlie’s—but Ben kept the sifter on the top shelf of one of his cupboards.

  Which was utterly ridiculous.

  Who put baking tools out of reach?

  Gavin already had the dough rising, and now he wanted to play with some frosting variations. Between his completely average height and his inconveniently broken foot, though, it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to reach the equipment he needed. At least, not easily.

  Gavin eyed one of the tall stools Ben kept at the counter, frowning as he tried to convince himself not to do something stupid.

  “It’s too early for that expression,” Ben said, smiling at him as he ambled into the kitchen looking… delicious.

  Oh, Lord. The man definitely wasn’t avoiding him.

  Ben came right up to where Gavin was working, stroking a thumb between his eyebrows to smooth out the little worry-crease that Danny liked to tease him was his default expression and smiling down at him, acting for all the world like nothing had changed between them. Any awkwardness from the night before was gone, and in its absence, Gavin was having trouble remembering that Ben had quite clearly not been interested in anything… more.

  But that line of thinking put him at risk of doing something even stupider than climbing up on the stool.

  “What’s wrong?” Ben asked, standing entirely too close.

  Gavin swallowed. Torture. He pressed his back into the counter to put some space between the two of them as he pointed up at the kitchen gadget he’d wanted.

  “I need the sifter.”

  Ben steadied one hand on Gavin’s hip and as he reached over his head and pulled down a pastry cutter. The action pressed them chest to chest for a moment, and Gavin bit back a groan.

  The man was too much.

  “Is this what you need?” Ben asked, oblivious.

  “No.”

  Which meant Ben did it again, rubbing up against him with no apparent effect. On Ben, that is. Gavin shifted his weight, willing the other man to turn away for a moment so he could adjust himself. No luck.

  “This one?” Ben asked.

  “That’s a dough scraper. Leave it out, though. But no, I need the sifter.” Gavin pointed again. “That one.”

  Ben finally pulled it down and backed off, grabbing a glass out of another cupboard and filling it with water while Gavin willed his cock to behave.

  “What are you making?” Ben asked, wrapping one of those huge hands around the back of Gavin’s neck and kneading it softly while he leaned over his shoulder to peek into the mixing bowl.

  The unexpected touch made Gavin jump, dropping the bag of confectioner’s sugar onto the counter. A cloud of the swe
et, white powder puffed out, coating his hands and making him cough when he breathed in a lungful.

  “Jesus, Ben,” he wheezed out, forcing himself to pull away from the other man’s addictive hands. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to touch me so much.”

  “Sorry,” Ben said, tucking his hands behind his back with a sheepish look. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  And then—because apparently the man really was intent on torturing him—he stepped in again and cupped Gavin’s cheek, running his thumb over Gavin’s lips.

  “You’ve got sugar on your mouth.”

  Gavin stared at him in disbelief. Ben’s eyes were locked on his lips, and his thumb dipped between them as he rubbed at the sugar. Gavin wanted to suck it. He wanted to fucking jump the man. Again. But… Jesus. Ben has made it clear he wasn’t interested in that. And Gavin was not—not—going to be stupid and forget it.

  He pushed Ben’s hand away, lurching backward and ignoring what it did to him when Ben took that thumb and sucked it into his own mouth, licking off the sugar that he’d just brushed from Gavin’s skin.

  “Cinnamon rolls,” Gavin said, pausing to clear his throat as he answered Ben’s earlier question. “But healthy ones. For you. Well, healthy-ish. They should be ready by the time you get back.”

  “I can’t wait,” Ben said, his whole face lighting up. “Gavin, you fill my home with pure temptation.”

  Gavin laughed quietly as Ben left the room to head out for his run.

  Really?

  Pot… meet kettle.

  Gavin wasn’t sure how he was going to survive it.

  “This is an intervention,” Danny said theatrically, flopping down on Ben’s couch.

  Gavin raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall in an effort to take the pressure off his foot. He’d been puttering around the kitchen when he’d received the text from his friends warning him that they were on their way over. He felt a little odd about receiving guests while Ben was away at work, but, he had to admit, it was a nice interruption. He wasn’t used to having so much time on his hands.

  “We haven’t seen you in over a week, Gav,” Jeremy added, licking frosting off his fingers. “And more importantly, why don’t you sell these at the bakery?”

  “We do,” Gavin said, happy to see his friends enjoying his baking efforts from the weekend. As grateful as he was for Delicious’s success, it couldn’t compare to the little thrill he got from feeding people he cared about.

  “They’re always sold out by the time I get in, though,” Danny complained, pouting as he reached for another cinnamon roll. “Oh my God,” he added, the words muffled as he spoke with his mouth full. “These might just inspire me to come in early. I forgot how good they were, Gav.”

  “Speaking of which, did you really wake up before noon just to come harass me about my nonexistent love life?”

  Danny’s shift at the bakery usually started in the early afternoon, and seeing him up and about before then was a rarity.

  “Sex life,” Jeremy corrected. “I already told you, I’m not expecting you to fall head over heels for my cousin. Cash is a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but since he’ll only be in town for a week or so, it probably wouldn’t be smart. But that doesn’t mean you can’t both have a little fun while he’s here, especially since you’re—shockingly—not working 24/7 at the moment.”

  “Jeremy’s right. You need to get laid, Gav, especially if Hot Banker isn’t putting out. And you know I’m willing to sacrifice a little beauty sleep to help out with the important things in life,” Danny said, stifling a yawn. “Besides, this was the only time of day Jeremy could get away from the bookstore to drive me over.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?” Gavin asked, biting back a smile as he determinedly kept his mind off the thought of his “Hot Banker” putting out.

  Danny waved a hand in the air dismissively, which he seemed to think was a sufficient answer to the question about his lack of transportation. Uh-huh. Gavin would put money on the fact that Danny had misplaced his keys. Again.

  “Let’s stay focused,” Danny said. “Are you going to go out with Cash when he gets here, or not?”

  Gavin frowned. “No” was the answer on the tip of his tongue, but that knee-jerk response was all tangled up in his growing, unrequited, feelings for Ben. Gavin sighed, rubbing at the worry-creases on his forehead. The motion mimicked one of the habitual ways Ben had of touching him, and as soon as he caught himself, he tucked his hand in his pocket to make himself stop.

  God.

  Ben seemed determined to ignore the awkwardness of that too-erotic massage a few nights ago. Since then, nothing had changed between them—a fact that Gavin was grateful for, even though it was also driving him slowly crazy. Ben still treated him with the same easy humor and attentive courtesy that he had from the beginning… but that wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Despite Gavin’s repeated reminders about the “no touching” rule, the maddening man couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. Gavin had eventually given up calling him on it. Every time he had, Ben had immediately apologized—sheepish and sincere and ridiculously sexy—and then, within a few minutes, ended up reaching out to touch Gavin in some way again.

  With anyone else, Gavin would have been sure that it meant something, but for all his obliviousness, Gavin knew that Ben wasn’t the type to play games with him. The man was just physically affectionate by nature, and even though knowing it wasn’t going to lead to anything was its own form of torture, Gavin hadn’t been able to bring himself to make Ben stop.

  Even though he had to practically bite his tongue to keep from trying to talk to him about it, for once in his life, he was going to keep his mouth closed and his feelings to himself. There were only so many times he could bear to hear Ben confirm that yes, he really was straight, and no, he really wasn’t interested in doing anything about Gavin’s not-so-hidden attraction to him. Those facts had already been established, so Gavin was just going to let himself enjoy the weird limbo of their relationship for what it was, for the short time it was destined to last, and then try to move on once he finally got his cast off.

  Which meant that maybe he really should consider going out with Jeremy’s cousin.

  “When is he coming to town?” he asked, quashing the unwarranted feeling of disloyalty that instantly sprang to mind. He and Ben were just friends. Just. Friends.

  “In a couple of weeks,” Jeremy said, perking up. “You’d really go out with him?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Gavin, do it. You deserve a little fun in your life, and you’ll like Cash, I promise.”

  “You really should, honey,” Danny added. “Break your dry spell.”

  Gavin laughed, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to sleep with the man, but Danny was right about one thing, it had been far too long since Gavin had had anyone in his life, and that wasn’t going to change unless he started to put himself out there. And if nothing else, being around Ben had shown him was that he wanted that again. He wanted someone who made him laugh, someone to share the little stories of his day with. Someone to bake for, and come home to. Someone who made life delicious.

  Someone like Ben.

  Who, really, was the perfect boyfriend.

  Except of course that he wasn’t.

  But maybe there would be someone out there who was. Someone who made Gavin’s pulse speed up the way Ben did. Who made him feel understood, the way Ben did. Cared for. Appreciated. Cherished.

  But who also wanted him.

  Because Danny was right about that, too. It was high time that Gavin got laid, and that wasn’t going to happen, either, if he wasn’t willing to give other men a chance. Men who weren’t Ben.

  “Fine,” he said. The look of complete astonishment on Jeremy’s face almost made him laugh, and when he saw Danny’s expression—more astonishment, mixed with utter glee—he did. Was his agreement really that shocking? Granted, maybe
it had been a while since he’d said yes to anything other than work, but really, he didn’t think it warranted quite that much of a reaction. “I’ll go out with him,” he confirmed, since his friends were still speechless. “One date.”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Jeremy promised, whipping out his phone as soon as he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor. “I’m going to let Cash know. I’ve already told him about you, and he’s been pushing me to get you to say yes.”

  Gavin grinned, ignoring the little twinge of reluctance he still felt at the idea. It was nice to feel wanted. And maybe it would be fun. It probably would, in fact.

  Not “probably.”

  Definitely.

  Jeremy’s phone pinged, and he held it out to show Gavin the screen.

  Fuck, yeah! Thanks, cuz. I’ll show him a good time.

  Great.

  That was great.

  Cash sounded great.

  And Gavin had two weeks to convince himself that going out with him would be… great.

  11

  Ben

  Ben drummed his fingers on his desktop, smiling as he listened to the customer on the phone praise the customer service she’d received from their newest teller the day before. He murmured “mm-hmm” and “thank you” in all the appropriate places—Mrs. Jenkins didn’t seem to require him to uphold any more of his side of the conversation than that. He glanced at the clock. The bank had closed a few minutes ago, and if he didn’t leave in the next ten, he was going to be late to pick Gavin up at Delicious.

  His lip quirked up. Even though he’d told Gavin he’d pick him up at 5:30, he strongly suspected that when he showed up to collect him, he’d have to pry him out of the bakery. Now that Ben had gotten to know him a little better, he was amazed that Gavin had managed to stay away for as long as he had, crutches or no crutches. He looked at the clock again, weighing his desire not to be rude to the customer with his need to get going. Even if Gavin wouldn’t mind Ben showing up later than promised, Ben would prefer not to.