by Iris Trovao
The word friends made his heart skip a beat, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. He supposed at some point during this continuous texting they had, indeed, become friends. Unfortunately so.
Jane: While I’m on my quest for a hobby…what do you do other than read boring books and doctor all day?
He wrinkled his nose as he squeezed some ranch dressing onto his greens, typing out, That’s it. Sometimes I manage to wrangle my daughters into hanging out with their old man for a game of Risk.
Jane: Isn’t that the boring one where you have to take over the world with dice rolls?
He was surprised, given her lack of life experience, that she even knew what Risk was. It sounded like all she’d done was marry young then sat around getting drunk, and he couldn’t imagine her playing nerdy board games. Is there anything that you don’t find boring?
Jane: For family games? I mean I’ve played some pretty hardcore games of Go Fish.
He chuckled, imagining a Go Fish tournament in a stadium, complete with TV coverage and reporters calling games all over the place. I don’t know if there are Go Fish clubs for adults, he sent back.
Jane: LOL see you do have a sense of humour, doc.
He stuffed a forkful of ranch-covered vegetables in his mouth. I suppose I do.
After his tea, Carson burrowed under his feather-down duvet, drawing them around him in a makeshift cocoon. It was comfortable, to be sure, but sometimes he missed sharing space with Gina.
Realistically, they hadn’t often shared a bed even when things were still good between them, considering he’d always worked night shift and she kept strange hours with her gallery and charity events.
But even just those morning snuggles, before she took off for the day…
Carson waited for the stab of pain across his chest. Waited for that ache, that yearning, that desperate need for the relationship he’d used to have.
Buzz.
His eyes fluttered open and he reached out, grabbing his phone off of the night stand.
Jane: You’re probably sleeping already, but I thought you should know that I drank WATER before bed. And I wasn’t even that drunk. I’m like only 64.7% as hungover as I usually am.
He smiled, setting the phone back down and snuggling back into his soft pillows. He knew if he replied now that he would end up stuck in conversation for hours, and he was tired. So tired…
“Hey mister, pay attention,” Gina said, sitting back on her haunches after releasing his cock from her mouth with a wet pop.
Only it wasn’t Gina. This woman had raven black hair, and her eyes were so large they looked near-cartoonish on her face.
Carson realized he had his dick out, and he scrambled to tuck it back into his pants. What the hell am I doing? he thought frantically.
“Well I thought you were gonna fuck me, doc, but looks like you’re pussying out,” the woman drawled, rolling her eyes, and his stomach sank.
“Jane?” he asked. Wait, that’s not right. I’ve never met Jane. I don’t even know what her name is.
She ran her hands up his thighs, squeezing his flesh hard as she went. “You haven’t met me, yet, you dork. Just shut up and enjoy it.” She shot him a wicked smile, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his scrub pants, freeing him once again.
Carson grabbed her wrists with lightning speed, and she pouted, fluttering her eyelashes.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want me?”
What do I want? He swallowed hard. I want to be loved. I want to be wanted.
“Then let me in, doc,” she said, and shook off his hands, slithering up into his lap like a sexy snake. She raked her nails down the back of his neck as she teased his painfully hard cock with her wet entrance. “And I’ll let you in.”
His lips parted in a moan at the purr of her words, and she lowered herself onto him, sheathing him into warm, silken walls.
She felt like heaven.
Am I dreaming? I’m dreaming, he thought, but it felt so real.
“Does it matter?” she asked, her breath hot against his lips as she rocked against him, and fireworks exploded in his eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
Jolie’s phone trilled out a happy little ringtone, indicating eighteen minutes had passed, and she hurried to open the oven. She was pretty sure that brownies weren’t supposed to sizzle. She wrinkled her nose and slid on an oven mitt, pulling the pan from the oven and setting it on top of the elements.
There was a clear pool of liquid on top of the dark brown treat, or at least what was supposed to be a treat. “How did the butter get out of the batter?” she moaned, picking up a fork and attempting to pierce the surface to see what was going on inside.
It was hard as a rock. “How the fuck…?” She tossed down the fork, crossing her arms.
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, still scowling at her physics-defying brownies.
Dr. Tweedledick: Good for you! I’m proud of you.
Jolie rolled her eyes. Thanks, DAD, she sent back. I’m working on a healthy hobby, she added. Well, not a healthy hobby really, I attempted to bake brownies, but chocolate is healthier than booze right?
Dr. Tweedledick: Definitely. Are they good?
“Nope,” she said out loud, popping the p hard. They are somehow both hard as a brick and greasy AF at the same time. She headed for the door and shrugged on her coat, grabbing her purse and heading into the hallway, locking the door behind her. She checked her phone as she headed for the elevators.
Dr. Tweedledick: That…is a feat.
Yeah, no idea how I did it, she sent back before the doors closed and she was stuck in her reception-blocking box of doom. When she emerged on the ground floor, she continued, It sucks cuz I wanted to eat the damn brownies, but you know it was actually really fun trying to bake them. My kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it, but that’s future me’s problem.
Dr. Tweedledick: That’s a good sign, though, if you were enjoying yourself. That matters more than the outcome I think.
She rolled her eyes. Except I didn’t get the satisfaction of eating delicious brownies when I was done lol. But yeah, I had fun. Plus I’m going over to my favourite cafe now and I’m going to buy the biggest brownie they have and nom the whole thing with a latte.
Dr. Tweedledick: You know, when people say they can’t cook or can’t bake, it usually just means they have trouble following directions.
“Oh, low blow, doc,” Jolie muttered as she jogged up to the front door of the cafe, slipping inside and heading for her usual couch. First you accuse me of not having real insomnia, now you’re saying I’m not actually a bad baker? She added an emoji with a tongue sticking out and sent the message as she approached the baked good case.
Janos had all kinds of awesome stuff in there, from brownies to muffins to scones to turnovers to eclairs and donuts.
“What are you after today, sugar nut?” he asked, slinging a towel over his shoulder and giving her a wink.
Jolie shook her head. “You know I was after a brownie, but these are one hundred percent not big enough for me.” She pointed to the ice cube-sized squares in the case. “And there’s not even any frosting? For shame.”
He slapped a hand to his chest as if he’d been shot. “You wound me, fickle lady,” he declared.
“Lady.” She snorted a laugh.
“If you think you can do better, why don’t you stay ‘til close and join my after-hours baking class?” He raised a perfectly-sculpted brow. “Put your money where your mouth is?”
Jolie put her hands on her hips. “You run a baking class here? Since when?”
“Since forever.” He pointed to the corkboard behind her, where a large poster pinned there boasted Baking with Janos. “You know how to read? Those novels you dumped didn’t seem very advanced but you were able to read the titles, right?”
She blinked at the poster, her lips parting at the realization she’d just never looked at that corkboard before, ever. “I need to be more observant.�
� She sighed and turned back to him, leaning on the counter. “Alright, I’m game. How many people usually come? I hate people.”
“Usually two or three.” He smirked. “Minimal human contact required. I know you’re allergic to being nice to people, but maybe you can take an antihistamine today.”
Jolie rolled her eyes. “You know you’re just as big of a bitch as me.” She pointed a finger at him. “Are you gonna make me a latte or what? Caffeine is my anti-bitch medication.”
He barked a laugh. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
As he turned around to work on her drink, Jolie pulled her phone out of her pocket.
Dr. Tweedledick: Can you say with absolute certainty that you followed the recipe exactly?
She stuck her tongue out at the screen. I’ll have you know that I’m going pro, she sent back. I’m taking a baking class tonight, and then I’m gonna kick ass up and down alllllll the recipes.
Dr. Tweedledick: Great idea! Let me know when you get to experimenting, and I’ll give you my great-grandma’s banana bread recipe. Passed down through generations.
She looked up from her phone just in time to see Janos gracefully wiggling his wrist to make a fancy vine with her frothed milk, complete with leaves and flowers.
“Milady,” he said with a flourish, presenting the pretty cup.
Jolie lifted it to her lips and took a large slurp, warping the design with her sip. “I don’t know why you work so hard to make it pretty when I’m just going to ruin it five seconds later.” She licked a foam moustache from her upper lip.
“Oh it’s effortless for me to make things pretty,” he shot back, flashing her a thousand-watt smile.
“And so modest!” Jolie gasped, and his laughter followed her all the way back to her table.
She gently sat on the couch to avoid sloshing her latte, and curled her legs up, resting her phone on her knees. Secret family recipe, huh? You must really love me. She hit send and immediately closed her eyes, cursing herself. She didn’t know what she had been thinking with that comment.
I wasn’t thinking…just go making it weird… she thought, letting out a deep sigh before taking a sip of her drink.
Her eyes flicked to the bookshelf, and she spotted the vampire mysteries she’d left on the shelf, still sitting there. Fuck you Janos, I can read. She set down her phone and coffee, went and liberated the book she’d started, and flopped down on the couch to pass the time until closing.
Alicia: Where are youuuuuu????
Jolie groaned. “Shit,” she muttered, and almost put a hand to her forehead before she remembered it was covered in flour. Before touching her phone, she turned and washed her hands at the little sink behind the prep table.
“What’s up?” Janos asked as he pulled out a cookie dough scoop from the drawer beside her.
“I forgot I was supposed to meet Alicia tonight.” She dried her hands and picked up her phone, unlocking it. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and she briefly considered not answering. “I kinda don’t even want to reply to her. Get her back for standing me up last time.”
Janos poked her in the ribs with the scoop. “That would be mighty shitty of you, Miss.”
“Aren’t I shitty?” She sighed.
“No, you’re not.” He put a hand on his hip and fixed her with a glare that reminded her of her mother. “But you’re not allowed to leave until we bake these.”
"Oh, professor, I would never skip class, especially being the only one that showed up,” she said, gasping in feigned offense. “Nor would I miss out on warm cookie eating.”
Janos shook his head, waving the scoop at her. “Let her know then, but don’t throw me under the bus.”
“Dear Alicia, I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it, Janos demanded I bake with him and has me handcuffed to the prep table,” she said, pretending to type it out on her phone.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Actually do, I’d love to see what she says.”
She rolled her eyes and sent back, Sorry, totally forgot, rain check?
She set her phone down and rubbed her hands together. “Okay, how does this thing work?”
“It’s literally a scoop, how do you think it works?” He swiped it through the cookie dough before plopping a perfect ball onto a silicone baking sheet.
She laughed, shaking her head. “You are literally the worst teacher ever.”
“But you love me.” He grinned. “Plus, you mixed this dough and it’s perfect, so I’d say I did a stellar job teaching you.”
Alicia: You suuuuccckkkk. There’s a hot AF guy and I need a wingman!
Jolie snorted and showed Janos her phone screen.
He scoffed. “Tell her she don’t need a wingman with an ass like that.”
You got this, hottie, she sent back. Strategically bend over near him he’ll be drooling all over himself.
Alicia: You fuckin’ know it. I’ll text you after I get laid.
Jolie wrinkled her nose. Drunk post-sex texts from Alicia were always…visceral.
“Alright, put that thing down and pay attention,” Janos cut in, pressing the scoop into her hand. “Size matters when it comes to cookies.”
She smirked, raising an eyebrow.
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, you dirty bitch. You’re lucky my other students aren’t here tonight.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Daaadddd…” Lily whined as Carson crossed his arms, fixing her with a stern fatherly stare.
“I need to meet this young man if he’s going to be taking you out in his car.”
She pouted, sticking out a glossy lip. “Wasn’t it enough that I told you where I was going?”
“It’s wonderful that you told me where you’re going,” he agreed. “And I don’t want to discourage you from telling me things in the future to save yourself some embarrassment. I appreciate you being up front and honest with me, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I meet him.”
She wrinkled her nose but didn’t argue. He couldn’t help but see the little girl she’d once been, with flaxen pigtails at four years old, pouting just the same way and stamping her little foot when she didn’t get her way.
“Just…you’re not gonna do the whole macho dad thing, right?” Her mouth twisted in on itself, and he had to stifle a laugh.
“I’m hardly macho, Lily,” he said gently, forcing his expression to stay neutral.
She waved a hand at him. “You’re like ten feet tall and you work out. You’re a total nerd but you look like a Chad, and Nick is, like, small and…sweet.” Her cheeks pinked, and she looked at the floor.
“I don’t know what Chad looks like, but it makes me feel better that you’re describing this kid as small and sweet.” He smiled down at her, curling an arm around her shoulders. “Though if you think six-foot-one is ten feet, I’m doubting your guesstimation abilities.”
He could practically feel her eye roll in her shifting posture.
“He’s really nice, dad, a perfect gentleman, I promise,” she said.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about with me meeting him.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Really, if me being fatherly is a put-off for him, he’s not worth your time anyway.”
“It won’t be a put-off for him, it’s embarrassing for me,” she whined.
“My sacred duty as a parent is to embarrass my teenager,” he declared, holding up a victorious fist.
“Daaaadddd…” Lily trailed off, but this time she was smiling.
He kissed her forehead, careful not to muss her elaborately-styled updo. That was an explosion he was smart enough to avoid.
The doorbell rang and Lily squeaked, practically flying to the front door. He sauntered after her, resisting the urge to cross his arms and puff out his chest behind her.
When Lily opened the door and revealed her date, Carson nearly laughed out loud. She hadn’t been joking. The kid was half a head shorter than his daughter and looked like he weighed a hundred pounds soaki
ng wet.
Nick’s eyes widened to saucers and he visibly gulped as he stared up at Carson, not breaking his gaze as Lily took his hand and dragged him into the foyer.
“This is my dad,” she said brightly, staring up at her father, eyes pleading.
“Nice to—” Nick squeaked, and cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Wessex.” His words were stiff, and he extended the hand not clutched between Lily’s.
Carson took it and gave it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you too, Nick.” He offered a smile, and though his words weren’t unkind, they had an edge of sternness. “What are your plans for the evening?”
“Dad!” Lily hissed through her teeth, glaring daggers at him.
“We’re going out for pizza, then to a movie.” Nick gulped again.
Carson looked past him to the little hatchback sitting in the driveway. “How long have you had your license?”
“Daaadddd!” Lily growled even louder.
“Almost two years, sir,” the kid replied. “I got my G2 early because of driver’s training, and I’m doing my full G next week.”
Carson nodded appreciatively. “And when is the movie over?”
His daughter simply scowled this time instead of berating him, and he hoped she’d given up, considering her date was being awfully accommodating.
“Ten o’clock, sir,” Nick said.
Carson nodded again. “All right, well, I’d like it if she could be home by eleven.” He made sure to keep his tone firm, to make sure despite the way he’d phrased it that it wasn’t a suggestion. “Very nice to meet you, Nick.”
“And you, Dr. Wessex.” The kid’s head bounced up and down like a bobblehead. “Eleven o’clock.”
“Have fun,” Carson replied, and gave his exasperated daughter a wink and a smile before she turned and dragged her poor date down the front walk.
He waited in the open door, watching as Nick opened the passenger door of the hatchback and closed it once she was safely inside. “You got good tires on that thing?” he called, stifling a laugh as Lily buried her face in her hands.