by Haley Travis
Icing Up Love
Insta Love Shy Girl Romance #1
By Haley Travis
Copyright 2019 Haley Travis. All rights reserved. Cover design by Lexie Renard.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously. All characters are over 18, no sex partners are related, all sex is consensual. This is fantasy. In the real world, everyone practices safe sex at all times. Right? Right.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Series
Chapter One - Sharolyn
Chapter Two - Nolan
Chapter Three - Sharolyn
Chapter Four - Nolan
Chapter Five - Sharolyn
Chapter Six - Nolan
Chapter Seven - Sharolyn
Chapter Eight - Nolan
Chapter Nine - Sharolyn
Chapter Ten - Nolan
Epilogue #1 - Sharolyn
Epilogue #2 - Sharolyn
Other Stories & About the Author
***
Enjoy more of the “Up Love - Insta Love Shy Girl Romance” Series.
#1 - Icing up Love: When a cake decorator meets a former hockey player, the icing meets the ice in a whirlwind fast romance.
#2 - Packing Up Love: When a moving man falls for a damsel in distress, his overprotective urges are too heavy for a girl labelled, “Fragile”.
#3 - Snapping Up Love: Will an event photographer keep his focus when the perfect model steps into his life?
#4 - Inking Up Love: Can a tattoo artist keep his hands steady when the girl of his dreams walks in the door?
#5 - Snipping Up Love: When a billionaire visits a new hair stylist, ‘a little off the top’ becomes ‘over the top’ in an instant romance.
CHAPTER ONE
* Sharolyn *
I’d always loved the holidays, but with my sister and parents in Vancouver this year visiting my brother’s new baby, I felt completely lost. I’d been working like crazy, and although I loved my job, it was starting to wear me down. I’d hit the level of exhaustion where lights were too bright and everything felt brittle.
Decorating cakes, cupcakes, and pastries for high-end corporate events was fun, but sometimes solitary work that I really enjoyed. I had a steady hand, and endless patience for things like waiting for the right temperature for the fondant, or creating designs for the client that were “Just a bit different than last year but nearly identical.”
Everyone else’s holidays seemed packed with activities, rushing to three events a night. People in Toronto appeared frantic in December, and I was glad to be outside of the whirlwind.
I did have my best friend’s Christmas Eve party, which was the main thing that had been lifting my spirits all week. My former co-worker and crazy friend Jenny threw a cozy Christmas Eve party with just friends, to give us an escape from our families for a few brief hours.
That was just three days away, which gave me a bit of time to prepare for the onslaught of annual questions.
Being a shy girl, it was difficult enough to mingle in a group of twenty people and make small talk. It got easier every year though, especially since I’d taken up the trick of having a small glass of wine every hour and a half. Not enough to get tipsy, which made me more anxious. Just enough to relax and become a bit chattier.
Every year these well-meaning friends would ask why I wasn’t dating, why I didn’t have a boyfriend, and remind me that twenty-five was the perfect time to find a husband. Yikes. I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to new houseplants quite yet. And dating? Didn’t they realize that would involve speaking with strange men? Not likely.
Jenny often had smaller parties throughout the year, and I tried to force myself to practice speaking to strangers. Chatting with friends of friends made it feel safer, and I learned how to muddle through awkward conversations, and always have a range of light-hearted things to comment on. I even forced myself to chat with the men. Since they were all coupled off and they knew there was no way I was interested, I tried to discover what men like to chat about.
Other than their interests tending to skew more to sports than books, there were always the staples of urban conversation such as new restaurants, events, and how unbelievably horrid our public transit was.
I’d learned that an amusing complaint was a sure-fire way to start a conversation. Nobody wants to talk to a whiner, but if you’re making cute jokes about a blizzard, or threatening to sue the streetcar for making you late, everyone always laughs.
Trying these conversation starters actually had me talking to my coworkers a bit more. The kitchens of the fanciest hotels and event spaces were sometimes small and awkward, so it was close quarters. So as we decorated pastries and iced cakes, preparing glorious treats for the ridiculously wealthy people who came to these sorts of fancy events and fundraisers, I tried to think of it as anti-shyness practice time.
After a ten-hour shift, the holidays draining everyone, I’d let everyone else go home to their families while I finished up the last half hour. Some of them had children waiting at home, so I wanted them to beat rush hour. The cater waiters had taken out nearly every dessert, and I was left finishing up a selection of gingerbread men that were a thank you gift for the organizers.
After placing the last of the cupcakes in white cardboard boxes, I just had a few dozen more gingerbread men to ice. The red frosting always looked thicker and creamier when applied chilled, so I went to get my spare batch from the walk-in refrigerator.
Opening the giant metal door, I had to put my weight into it to actually move the huge panel of steel. This room always felt a bit uncomfortable, like a basement. I grabbed the bowl from the shelf where I left it twenty minutes ago, then turned to see a huge man in a dark suit standing with his back against the far wall.
I froze, and not from the blast of chilly air. There shouldn’t be anyone in here. There was no reason why anyone would be hiding in a refrigerator. Backing away slowly, I didn’t quite have time to register that I was trembling when he lunged for me.
My hands were shaking so badly that I had begun to drop the mixing bowl, but he caught it just in time. Looking up into the warmest brown eyes I’d ever seen, I realized in a blink that they were attached to a giant mountain of a man who was now standing far too close to me.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly but gently, forcing a wide smile. Taking the bowl from him with both twitching hands, I backed slowly out the door, refusing to be cornered.
He followed me, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “You were fussing with the ovens when I came in a few minutes ago and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Setting the bowl down on the counter, I dropped into a chair in the corner, fluttering like a leaf about to fall.
I assumed that he would go about his business, but instead he dropped to one knee in front of me so our eyes were on a similar level. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, taking slow, deep breaths. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little jumpy.”
He chuckled, a deep rumble in that huge barrel of a chest. “Please don’t apologize – I must have scared you to pieces.”
I was so rattled that it actually shook out some of my usual nervousness, and I found myself asking, “Why were you in there?”
<
br /> He laughed again. His voice was so rich and deep. “This is my brother’s fundraiser, and I have to give a short speech. I’m used to talking to groups of maybe fifty people, but there’s at least five hundred out there. I don’t get nervous exactly, I just get overheated in this stupid suit from the adrenaline rush. So I was taking five minutes to literally chill. The cold calms me.”
My eyes roamed around the shoulders of the obviously custom-fitted deep black suit that probably cost more than three times my rent. He looked like some sort of jet-setting model.
Everything about him was a strange blend of rough and refined. His hair was thick with a bit of wave, yet impeccably cut. His slight beard was perfectly trimmed. His massive shoulders looked almost civilized in that stylish jacket. His thick, tough-looking fingers might even have been manicured.
I noticed this because I was looking down at my lap where he was holding my hand. Why was he holding my hand?
“You’re still shaking. I am so sorry,” he said gently, stroking my palm gently with his thumb. “I’m Nolan Briggs, by the way.”
“Sharolyn Cooper,” I said automatically. My voice sounded incredibly small in the quiet of this room, but then a burst of applause trickled down the hallway from the huge event space.
“Sharolyn is a beautiful name,” he said softly. Then he set my hand down and stood up. “It’s probably almost my turn to be sacrificed to the wolves.”
It was so odd seeing such a big, impressive man stopping everything to take care of a little nobody in the kitchen. “If you can calm your breathing, the adrenaline rush will relax a bit,” I heard myself saying. “The heart and lungs are constantly transmitting messages. If the lungs are relaxed and the respiratory rate is slow and steady, the brain receives the message that everything is fine and there’s no reason to keep flooding you with adrenaline and cortisol.”
Nolan cocked his head, looking absolutely delighted. “How did you know that?”
“I have stage fright just from speaking with strangers,” I admitted. “So I study this sort of system control stuff to try to get by.”
He nodded, and dropped his shoulders, taking a few slow deep breaths. “Thank you so much, Sharolyn. I really appreciate it.”
There was another voice booming from the hall, sounding like an announcement. “Good luck,” I called out as he rushed off down the corridor. I wondered if he was up right away.
Sitting very still, I forced myself to take a few breaths as well. What the heck just happened? A strange man had popped out of nowhere, scaring the daylights out of me, but was then so concerned for me that he held my hand to try to comfort me.
My hand should not have still been tingling where he touched me. I didn’t know whether that meant I had truly been craving a man’s touch, or that he was simply the most gorgeous guy I had ever laid eyes on.
Forcing myself to get moving, I finished the last two trays of cookies at lightning speed, packing everything away, and setting parchment over the gingerbread men as if I was tucking them into bed for the night.
I tiptoed down the hall to the doors at the very back of the event space. I couldn’t help it. I really wanted to catch just a minute of his speech. I could lie to myself and say that it was curiosity, but I also needed to re-examine that incredibly chiseled jawline.
His rich voice was speaking about facing challenges head-on, and using the turn of the New Year as a point of reflection. He suggested that we look beyond ourselves, to how we can reach out to others. He also suggested that we attempt to filter out some negativity, and promote positivity. Everyone can spare two minutes online to promote causes or spread good news, and perhaps be a bit slower to share horror stories.
Nolan was hypnotic. He was an amazing speaker. There was something about those deep eyes and booming voice that was absolutely riveting. He should be a movie star. Glancing around, I saw every woman staring at him as if he was the only thing they wanted for Christmas.
“And now I challenge each of you,” Nolan said with a wide grin. “What’s something big and brave, or tiny and wonderful that you can do today?”
There were a few answers called out from people at the front, but I couldn’t hear them without microphones.
“Amazing,” Nolan said to them. “Thank you so much for listening, and Happy Holidays and New Year!”
A similar looking man in a crisp suit, but slightly younger and slimmer, came out to shake his hand. He was the face on the brochure - Richard Briggs, the CEO of Briggs Holdings who was sponsoring this event. “A round of applause for my big brother, everyone!”
As Nolan turned to walk off the stage, Richard stopped him. “Hey wait. Nolan, what big, brave thing are you going to do today?”
He chuckled. “Besides speak to a huge room full of people?” While he waited for the laughter to fade, I stared at that rugged, handsome face. Although he did look pretty tough, once he got talking, he was unbelievably sweet. I wondered what he was like when he was relaxed, and chatting normally.
Nolan leaned into the microphone. “Can you all keep a secret?” There was a murmur, and the room became quiet. “I just met the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. She works here in the kitchen.” He paused, then nodded to himself. “I’m going to go ask her out.”
Three things happened at precisely the same time. The crowd burst into laughter and encouraging applause, with yells of, “Go get her!” Nolan looked up across the room, grinning to the audience, but he saw me staring right at him. And I backed out the door before I could hear another word.
Tearing down the hall, I darted into the prep area, grabbed my purse and jacket, and bolted out the back door. I don’t think I took a full breath until I was on the streetcar, headed across town to my apartment. I was breathless, and not from running to the stop. My hands were shaking, I felt flushed, and I didn’t even know why.
He hadn’t said my name. None of the organizers would know who he meant. Maybe he didn’t even mean me. Trying to slow my breathing, I convinced myself that I was being silly. There was no way he would ever have even noticed me if I hadn’t burst in on him. He was likely just playing to the crowd, telling a charming story.
I stared out the window, overwhelmed with relief. I made it through another rough day, I was closer to getting through this fairly lonely season without my family, and I was almost home. Tea and leftover pizza would both be in my hands within twenty minutes.
My gaze danced over the holiday lights, the bright red signs, and the snowy parks. Toronto was beautiful in December, even when it was a soggy mess. Lost in the haze of exhaustion, I almost didn’t hear my stop being called.
Ringing the bell quickly, I rushed to the rear doors of the streetcar, looking to the right before I stepped off to be sure no bikes or careless drivers were about to flatten me. But there was only one bright orange cab, stopped a polite distance back, pausing to let someone out.
Stepping down carefully, I quickly turned left as soon as I was safely on the slippery sidewalk, heading up the street.
“Hey, Sharolyn!” a deep voice boomed.
I jumped, spinning into Nolan’s arms, staring up into eyes that were so gorgeous my stomach did a flip.
CHAPTER TWO
* Nolan *
I didn’t mean to be holding her so close. When she spun, my instinct was to grab her so that she didn’t slip on the snowy concrete. I’m not the type of guy to go around grabbing strange women, I just felt the most unbelievable protective urges for this sweet, curvy blonde girl who was trembling in my arms.
I stepped back, holding her by the elbows to make sure that she was steady, but putting some space between us so that I didn’t frighten her.
“Why…” She paused. The half-formed question hung in the air between us, and I wasn’t even sure I had an answer.
“Sharolyn, I promise I’m not a crazy stalker type,” I tried to grin to put her at ease. “I think you’re absolutely fascinating, and couldn’t let you get away without asking you out
for coffee.”
She blushed so prettily that I wanted to take a photo so I could stare at her forever.
“So, I know you’re probably tired after working a long day, but may I take you out for coffee, or dinner, or anything you want?” I asked.
Sharolyn looked up at me, her eyes bright from the glow of the street lights, her sweet lips so inviting they were almost taunting me to kiss her. “I guess… I could go for a quick dinner,” she said quietly.
“You said something about having stage fright from just talking to people,” I said gently. “You seem a bit shy, and I don’t want to be too forward, but I swear that you can talk to me,” I grinned.
She nodded, and I realized I was still holding her elbows, but her hands were now gripping my forearms as she leaned toward me very slightly.
“Is this your neighborhood?” I asked. She nodded. “Is there anywhere around here you’d like to go?”
Sharolyn cocked her head, flashing me the most charming smile as she nodded. She led me up the street, and we admired the holiday lights for a few blocks until we entered a small pub called Jimmy’s. She glanced at me as we walked in the door. “Is this okay? It’s not very stylish, but the food is really good.”
“I love trying new restaurants,” I smiled. We were seated in a large half-circle booth in the back, and I slid in beside her, likely closer than I should have been. But the pull to be against her was overwhelming.
I would have thought that she’d smell like sugar or something from the pastries she’d been working on all day. But she smelled green, like a blend of rosemary, pine, and mint.
She ordered tea and a burger, and I was delighted that she wasn’t one of those fussy girls who eat nothing but salad in front of a man.
“Well, I got through the speech thanks to you,” I said. “Thank you for that.”