A Sweet Mess

by Jayci Lee

  Aubrey headed to the bathroom, humming “Do-Re-Mi” and stripping off her wrinkled clothes. Steam filled the shower in an instant thanks to the villa’s fantastic water pressure, and she stepped beneath the water with a lusty sigh. When she could afford it, she would totally spring for top-notch plumbing.

  The long, hot shower washed away her tension, and she stepped out shrouded in a perfume of lavender and citrus. Feeling infinitely calmer and in control, she tugged on her black cami and matching shorts.

  She pressed her ear against her door and held her breath. The house was quiet. Landon must have been asleep. Throwing on an emerald kimono, Aubrey tiptoed down the stairs. Other than the moonlight streaming in through the windows, the villa lay in darkness. With a sigh of relief, she padded into the kitchen and switched the light on.

  Getting her hands messy with flour, sugar, and spices never failed to chase her worries away. The scent of rising dough and butter filled the air and brought a smile to her heart. Aubrey hummed an unknown tune as she laid out pieces of pudgy round dough on the baking sheet. She loved the pale innocence of uncooked dough—plump and squishy as a baby’s cheeks. She would let them proof overnight, then brush on some melted butter and sprinkle them with turbinado sugar in the morning.

  When the buns were tucked safely in the fridge, she tidied the kitchen with practiced efficiency. Satisfied with her midnight project, Aubrey took off her apron and reached for the kimono she’d thrown over a stool. Her hand froze midair when Landon strode into the kitchen wearing a towel slung low on his waist. A good sneeze would’ve dislodged the loosely tied towel. Where the hell is the pepper shaker?

  His broad chest glistened with drops of water, and damp curls of jet-black hair fell across his forehead. She’d forgotten how beautiful he was. If she’d only seen a photo of him, she would’ve bet her bakery that the picture was photoshopped. The definition on his abs was absurd.

  Her heart lodged itself in her throat as Landon stepped toward her, his face feral and hungry. Or maybe he was just thirsty for some water. Who knows? The desire roaring through her befuddled mind, but she knew denial wasn’t the answer.

  They were standing in the same room, half-naked. It was a recipe for catastrophe. She had to create some space between them and cover up some skin. She fumbled to pull on her kimono, missing the armhole twice. Shit. Even when she succeeded in donning her robe, the scrap of silk barely hit the curves of her bottom.

  As Landon took slow, measured steps toward her, Aubrey’s panic rose. He was going to kiss her. She could see it in the heat of his gaze. If he kissed her, she’d be lost. Her body was screaming for his touch. She wouldn’t be able to hold back if he so much as laid a finger on her. He was less than five steps from her, and she had to do something.

  “Sweet buns!”

  Her voice screeched and bounced off the kitchen walls. Landon stopped short, his eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement. The plan had been to make small talk about preparing some sweet buns for tomorrow’s breakfast. Regretfully, her brain was too busy dreaming about nibbling on his bottom lip to transfer adequate information to her mouth.

  “I hope you’re not commenting on my anatomy, because I’m kind of shy.” Landon’s lips twitched as humor infiltrated his lust-glazed eyes. “And for the record, I have swimming trunks under this towel, so my sweet buns are decently clothed.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she snapped, equal parts annoyed and turned on. “Or else I’m not sharing a single morsel of my sweet buns with you.”

  “Now, when you say your sweet buns, are you referring to the ones peeking out of your…” He waved a hand in her direction. “Robe?”

  “Grow. Up.”

  He only laughed harder.

  You wanna play like that? Fine. Aubrey pivoted on her heels, giving him an eyeful of her half-bared bottom. When Landon choked on his laugh, she tossed a Cheshire cat grin over her shoulder and sashayed away from him.

  How do you like them sweet buns?

  She went up to her room and drifted off to sleep a few minutes later, still wearing that smile.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Aubrey set the freshly baked sweet buns on the kitchen counter and brewed a fresh pot of coffee before retreating to her room. When she heard the front door shut, she tiptoed into the hallway and risked a peek outside the window.

  Landon left for his meeting dressed in a fitted gray suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow hips. He looked the part of a successful businessman—powerful and in control. Aubrey’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart sprinted as if she were the final runner in a tight relay race. Am I ever going to get used to my reaction to him? Her attraction was becoming harder and harder to quell.

  Aubrey sighed and turned away from the window once the dust settled on the driveway. She checked the platter of sweet buns she’d left for him and was equal parts pleased and peeved to find every last piece of the bread gone. Her baker’s ego danced while her empty stomach growled, but she shushed both of them. A small white sheet of stationery occupied the empty platter. Anticipation skipping on her nerve endings, she opened the folded note with not-so-steady hands.

  Thanks for the sweet buns. See you tonight.

  —Mr. Sunshine

  Her heart attempted a triple flip but crashed after a two-and-a-quarter turn. With a tremulous smile, Aubrey traced his words with her fingertips. His handwriting was surprisingly neat, but bold and decisive like its arrogant creator. Warmth and a spark of happiness burst in her core. The moment felt more intimate than anything she’d experienced before.

  No, no, no. Aubrey threw the note back on the table. After staring at it for three seconds, she pushed it away a little farther. Do not pick that up again. Being with Landon felt far too good. Far too right. It scared the shit out of her. She couldn’t let her guard down. Last night had been a close call—she’d been a few seconds away from climbing him.

  Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut. What would she have done then? Give myself to him and pray I’ll be enough for him? Hope he won’t cast me to the shadows? That was plain dumb. Relationships failed. Even when couples committed their lives to each other, they only had a fifty-fifty chance of staying together.

  Love was a gamble. How much would you bet on a game with fifty-fifty odds? For me, a hundred bucks, tops. That was her cap for how much she could lose at a casino. But love demanded the ultimate all-in. You can’t divide your heart and bet a safe portion. Aubrey wasn’t a gambler. She had to fold.

  She couldn’t stray from Operation Friendship. It was best to keep this a friendly business arrangement. That was the only way no one would get hurt. Aubrey took a big breath and put her fists on her hips, superhero-style. I’m going to get Landon out of my mind. How?

  Two. Words. Strawberry shortcake—with port-macerated strawberries. Well, six if you count the description. A familiar excitement hummed through her as she imagined her new dessert. Damn it. It’s fortified wine, not port. Seven words.

  If she wanted to bake the perfect dessert, she needed to shop for the perfect ingredients. Fortunately, these ingredients didn’t involve alcohol. Aubrey got ready in record time, jumped on a pretty beach cruiser bike—courtesy of Lucien—and pedaled toward the small enclave of stores down the hill. A soft breeze ruffled her hair as she sped across her beautiful surroundings with gleeful abandon. By the time she arrived at her first destination, she was breathless and laughing.

  The produce shop was filled to the brim with colorful local produce, from artichokes to zucchini blossoms. Aubrey’s palms itched to touch and buy everything, and she barely managed not to drool.

  “Eureka,” she breathed. In the midst of the bounty, she spotted a small row of gorgeous scarlet strawberries.

  “Fort Laramie.”

  “What?” Aubrey spun to face a giant of a man, her hand pressed to her chest. She craned her neck to take in his height and barrel chest.

  “The strawberries,” he said. “They’re the Fort Laramie vari
eties. Not Eureka.”

  She released a breathy laugh, her momentary surprise fading. “I was saying, ‘Eureka!’ as in ‘I found it!’”

  “I see. California gold rush slang. Sorry, it’s been awhile.” His weathered face crinkled with amusement. “I’ve never seen someone so excited over strawberries—even Fort Laramies!”

  “They smell so intense.” She reached out to touch one. “And they’re heavier than they look. They must be juicy little buggers.”

  “Mmm-hmm. They’re the sweetest strawberries around, too.” The man stuck out a porterhouse steak–size hand. “I’m Jorge. Welcome to Central Coast Produce.”

  “Hi, I’m Aubrey.”

  He freed her hand and offered her a sample. The tender bulb exploded in her mouth in a symphony of flavors.

  “I love your Fort Laramie strawberries.”

  A warm, baritone chuckle permeated the air, and Aubrey realized Jorge was a teddy bear despite his formidable size. “Well, join the club, but I love all my beauties equally.”

  “I need a dozen quarts.” Then she bit her lip. “I’ll be cleaning you out, though. Is that all right?”

  “I’m a farmer, but also a businessman. Getting cleaned out is a good thing.”

  Aubrey’s jaw dropped open again. “You grew all these?”

  “Yup.” His teeth were dazzling white against his weathered skin. “Except for the flowers, olives, and grapes, these are all from our farm. My wife and son usually man the shop, but they went to some fancy organic farming seminar.”

  “How wonderful.”

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Eggs. Do you have eggs?”

  “Only the best eggs you’ll ever taste.”

  “Eureka.”

  Aubrey was panting and sweat-drenched by the time she returned to the villa a couple hours later. It was freakishly difficult to climb uphill with the sun pounding down on her. She’d had most of her supplies delivered to the villa, but the bike moved as though it were pulling a carriage via her leg power.

  The sky-blue tank top she’d donned this morning was stuck to her like a second skin, and her underwear was soggy with sweat. She was going straight to the pool and jumping in with her clothes on.

  When she saw a red Mercedes parked in front of the villa, Aubrey groaned out loud. She wasn’t expecting anyone and felt the opposite of hospitable. Then her groan descended into a miserable moan.

  Their unannounced guest was as stunning in person as she was in the pictures. Tall, statuesque, and glamorous. How can the woman look so perfect on a sweltering day like this? While Aubrey would never be able to compete with her in the looks department, she was mortified that her first meeting with Aria Santini would be at her stickiest, smelliest moment.

  Aubrey considered running for the bushes, but Aria spotted her from across the driveway. With no other choice, she dismounted the beach cruiser, almost falling flat on her face when her exhausted legs buckled. She righted herself like a gangly camel and manipulated her red sweaty face into what she hoped was a nonchalant expression. I so am not fangirling.

  Aria hurried toward her with a shining smile, her hands clasped in front of her perfect bosom. Before Aubrey could utter a laid-back hey, Aria drew her into a firm embrace, profuse perspiration and all.

  “Oh, mio dio!” Aria said in a lyrical voice. “It’s so good to meet you.”

  Aria was not a diva from hell as Aubrey had feared. Her voice, her smile, and her genuine warmth made Aubrey’s awkwardness melt away.

  “Um … hi. Aria Santini, right?”

  “Just Aria.” She linked her arm through Aubrey’s and led them toward the villa. “I’m sorry to drop in without notice. I don’t have your number, but I thought I’d still come and introduce myself. I’ve been dying to meet you.”

  “Me?” Aubrey was still dazed, but she belatedly remembered her manners. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Aria. Let’s go inside before we melt into a puddle out here.”

  * * *

  When Landon walked into the villa, tugging at his tie, he was hit with the sound of melodic laughter and mouthwatering aromas. Having spotted the red Mercedes out front, he wasn’t surprised. Good food and booming laughter followed Aria wherever she went. Her love for life and cooking was highly contagious. Landon had known Aria for almost a decade, and she was one of his closest friends. Unfortunately, she also had a penchant for occasional mischief. She might be perpetuating some on him right now.

  Groaning inwardly, he strode into the kitchen. Aubrey’s expression flickered mid-laugh, and she quickly lowered her lashes. How much has Aria been grilling her? When Aubrey glanced back up, he searched her eyes. Too quiet, too guarded.

  Not bothering to hide his irritation, he walked over to Aria and leaned down to place a light peck on her cheek. “Aria.”

  “Well, hello there.” Humor shimmered in her eyes. “I was just getting acquainted with my guest chef.”

  Landon glowered at her. Grown men cowered when faced with his anger, but Aria shrugged and lightly tossed her hair with a bite me grin. Why am I still friends with the woman? he wondered.

  Then Aria returned her attention to the subject of her curiosity, who was watching their interaction with a faint smile.

  “Now that Landon’s here, we should open that bottle of champagne and celebrate properly.”

  “Celebrate what?” Landon asked cautiously, not knowing what scheme his impetuous friend had brewed.

  “Her new dessert, of course. It’s simply divine.” Aria was brimming with excitement.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Aubrey said, her cheeks turning a lovely pink.

  “I’m sure it’s that and more,” he said.

  Landon was so in awe of her. Her sweet buns—something she’d baked for him and only him—were amazingly good. It was nothing short of magic how she could make something so simple into something extraordinary. A couple seconds lapsed in silence before he realized he was staring at Aubrey again. He tugged at his collar.

  “I’m a little overdressed for the celebration. I’ll join you ladies in a few minutes.”

  Aria, who hadn’t missed the longing in his gaze, crossed her eyes at him. With a warning glare and more than a little trepidation, Landon headed for his room.

  After splashing some cold water on his face, he studied his reflection. His hair stood up on spiky ends from dragging his fingers through it repeatedly. He’d driven back to the villa filled with restless excitement, knowing Aubrey would be here. It felt like he was coming home to her. It was a terrifying thought. He had no home. Aubrey was not his. And still, he hoped and yearned.

  Exhaling roughly, he turned his back on the mirror. Landon didn’t like himself too much at the moment. He couldn’t touch her even though his body was screaming for her. If he gave in to the wild attraction between them, people could paint her as a woman who’d slept her way to success and bury her with sick glee. He wanted to punch a hole through the wall, but he opted to pull on a black T-shirt and well-worn jeans to rejoin the celebration in the kitchen.

  “You took your sweet time.” Aria smirked. “Did you have to shave your legs?”

  Aubrey choked on her bubbly water.

  “You didn’t expect me to show up to a party with hairy legs, did you?” Landon managed to keep a straight face, but he felt heat climbing up his neck. He actually did shave, not his legs but his five-o’clock shadow.

  “Now, children. Be nice.” Aubrey grinned, her voice gritty from her coughing fit.

  “Okay, Mama,” Aria said. “But someone had to wipe that smug grin off his face.”

  Aubrey nodded solemnly. Landon cleared his throat.

  “If you ladies are finished having fun at my expense, why don’t we start the celebration?” He smiled at Aubrey, and she blushed sweetly, making his heart lunge against his rib cage. “And I expect a sample of the reason for the celebration.”

  11

  Every night since she’d arrived in Bosque Verde, Aubrey had fall
en asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But as she climbed into bed after their impromptu celebration, she doubted she would get any sleep at all. Her heart still pounded like a bass drum beating out a battle march, and her sensitized skin felt every brush of her silky pajamas and the smooth sheets like a caress.

  Landon’s eyes had followed her every movement, and she’d felt ridiculously hot in the air-conditioned kitchen. While Aria’s bright humor and warm presence had eased the tension between them, a stolen glance or an accidental brush of their skin had set Aubrey back on fire. The only thing that stopped her from ogling and panting after Landon all evening was observing Aria and Landon’s easy friendship.

  Aria teased him relentlessly, and he gave back as good as he got. They didn’t pull their punches either. Even when Aubrey cringed at their bawdier jokes, thinking they’d gone too far, they only laughed harder at themselves and at each other. Watching Landon with his guard down—laid-back and playful—made her heart twist with something bittersweet. Aubrey had probably seen more of his true personality in one evening than she would’ve if she’d spent weeks with him as a business acquaintance.

  She sighed and tossed onto her other side, fluffing her pillow. Landon was considerate, funny, and intelligent, and she genuinely liked him. If she could push aside her wildfire attraction to him, Operation Friendship could be a huge success. Becoming his friend would be wonderful—not to mention far less complicated than a fling—and, with any luck, lasting. With the flickering hope of having Landon in her life, Aubrey slid into sleep.

  The next morning, she couldn’t get her eyes to open. She knew the sun was out through her closed lids, but they were heavy as iron curtains and refused to budge. After a minute of half-hearted struggle, sleep overpowered the morning person inside her.