by Posey Parks
“Sweetheart, we are dating seriously.” I took her lips again.
She blushed.
“Call or text anytime. I’ll respond the moment I have time.” I retrieved my cell from my pocket.
“That reminds me. I’ll call the driver and tell him I’ll take you home.”
“No need. I already sent him on his way. He dropped me off. I told him I didn’t need his services anymore.”
“Gabrielle.” I paused.
The waitress placed our drinks before us. We thanked her.
“Why did you do that?”
“I can manage. You don’t have to pay for a car service to carry me everywhere I go. I’ve managed thus far.”
Shit, I had to compromise. She was stubborn. “If you have a large cake order, you can’t haul to the Marta, will you call the service. They will pick you up at any time. It’s a fleet service. So it may not be the same driver.”
“Ok, Chandler.”
“Good, I know you love Strawberry cheesecake shakes. What is your favorite food?”
“I love fried pickles and fried green tomatoes.”
“Ok.” I nodded. “A true southerner.”
She laughed. “I guess so. What about you? What food do you love?”
“I traveled the globe for a while. Greek food is the best. I love Italian and Latin cuisine. I guess I love several cuisines. If I had to choose one, I’d say Greek meatballs. They are the best. Honestly, I’ve only tried them in Greece. Might be disappointed if I tried them in the states.”
“We have some of the best restaurants in the world right here. I bet you’d be surprised they taste just as good.”
“Maybe your right.”
“All the cuisines you mentioned are delicious. I think I will take you to the restaurant district.”
“Sounds good.”
The waitress placed our meals on the counter. We didn’t waste any time digging into our meals.
“Do you have everything you need to bake this evening?”
She placed her hand over her mouth and swallowed a bite of her sandwich. “I need a few more items. I’ll run to the store on my way home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Chandler.”
I bit into the spicy sandwich again.
“Ignoring me?”
“Gabrielle, will this be our first argument?” I swiped a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered under my touch.
“No.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
GABRIELLE
Chandler pushed the cart through the organic market, brimming with customers. He wore a navy firehouse T-shirt, jeans, and black boots. Several women waved and smiled at him. It was like I wasn’t even walking next to him. I guess every woman desired a firefighter. Even if it was only in their dreams.
The perfectly tousled brownish blond hair, blue eyes, and chiseled jawline could have been a factor too. He oozed sex appeal. The second his hand splayed my back at the diner, I clenched my legs shut. Fuck, I was so wet for him. How would I ever make it through tonight? Chandler always stared at me like he’d fuck me until the next day. What? Every woman wanted a man who could please them. How would it work for us? We were both virgins. Neither of us knew how to please the other. Or did we? He couldn’t get enough of kissing me. Pulling away from him outside the firehouse almost broke me down. The way his lips devoured mine took over my thoughts the last couple of days.
“I’m almost done.”
“Take your time.” He placed a bottle of orange juice in the cart. Great, I bet he’d attempt to pay for my order. Won’t happen.
I stood, staring at the large variety of flour. Arms crossed, I tapped my foot.
“Do you need help with something?”
“Sorry, I’m pondering on which flour to purchase. Certain recipes work best with cake flour.” I pointed at the brown bag. “Then others taste delicious when I use the pink bag of all-purpose.”
“Step to the right, please.” Chandler moved closer to the shelf. “How many cakes can you bake in one month?”
“At least thirty.”
He grabbed five bags of each and placed them in the cart.
I turned to him eyes wide. “Chandler, that’s not how it works. I don’t purchase the flour until I am paid for the order.”
“But on average you sell thirty cakes?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Let’s make a deal. Once you’re paid for the thirty cakes, pay me back for the flour.”
“Ok. Just the flour, Chandler.”
He raised his hands as if he was surrendering. “Just the flour.”
We stood in the check-out line a few minutes later. “I can’t believe we like the same brand of wine.”
“That’s a good thing.” He winked.
“Chandler, how are you?” The cashier beamed.
“I’m well, Lisa and you?”
“Great, surprised to see you a second time this week.”
He grinned. “Yeah, not shopping for the firehouse today. I’m helping my girlfriend bake several cakes for a client this evening.”
She peeked at me. Her tense face revealed denial. Damn, really.
“I thought you were single?” She passed each item over the scanner, never taking her eyes off Chandler.
“I was and now I’m not. Gabrielle lives in the neighborhood. You’ve probably seen her before.”
Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recall,” she snarled.
“Have any fun plans this weekend?”
Her pink hair shook side to side. “No, I’m working.”
He stuck his black card in the credit card reader. A firefighter with a black card? Hmm.
“You have a good day, Lisa. I’ll see you next week.”
I smiled then glanced at the conveyor belt. Chandler slickly paid for all the groceries. Ugh.
He nodded his head toward the door. Lisa's eyes narrowed as she watched us stroll out of the store. I couldn’t help, but peek back one more time.
“Chandler, it’s obvious she’s the president of your fan club. You told her we were in a relationship. But we aren’t a couple.”
He helped me up into the truck. “Yet.” Chandler shut the door.
He stored my groceries in the kitchen cabinets before he left. Chandler didn’t kiss me. Good move. It was best we kept our hands off of each other.
Two hours later, I woke up from a much-needed nap around five in the evening. I hopped into the shower, then slipped into a sundress. The second I turned on the oven, my apartment would become a sauna. I smoothed my hair into a high ponytail. Fifteen minutes to six, I lined the pans along the back of the square kitchen table.
The door buzzer sounded.
I scurried to the door and buzzed Chandler up. My little humble reddish-brown brick building was only two stories. Nothing like the skyscraper that caught fire across the street.
My heart beat against my chest so fast, I thought it would burst as I waited for him to walk up the stairs. The second our eyes met, he smiled from ear-to-ear.
Don’t look so excited to see him. Try to downplay it, Gabrielle. “I’ve never seen you outside of your uniform.” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
“Shorts, huh?”
He towered over me as he stepped over the threshold. “You said it would be a scorcher once we began the baking process.”
His lips melted against my forehead. Oh, God why did Chandler’s lips have to feel like heaven on my skin? His woodsy, citrus cologne lit my core on fire. He smelled good enough to eat. A jolt of energy struck through my entire body. This would become one long night.
I closed the door, and he followed me into the kitchen. He wore khaki shorts, a gray T-shirt that hugged his pecs, and white sneakers.
“I didn’t notice the cloth bag. What’s inside?”
He placed the bottle of wine on the table. “I figured I’d bring a bottle for you. The plan all along was to give you one of the bottles, but you would’ve told me no.”
; “You’re right.” I leaned up on my tippy toes and kissed his lips. “Chandler, thank you for the awesome bottle of wine.” I grinned.
“You’re welcome.” His stunned gaze told me he didn’t anticipate my reaction. I’d rejected almost every nice thing he’d done for me. I had to stop.
I crossed my legs at my ankles, balancing all my weight on my elbow against the counter. “Your haircut looks nice.” His brownish, blond short hair was faded on the sides, longer on top, and swept toward the back.
“Thank you. So you’re letting your guard down?”
“Chandler, yes and just so you know, you are the only guy who’s seen the inside of my apartment. Let’s get started. You can wash your hands in the bathroom just outside the kitchen to your right.”
He nodded.
I washed my hands then gathered all the ingredients we needed.
“I have one more surprise,” he stated from behind.
“What’s that?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I peeked at the muscled batman apron he pulled over his head. I burst into laughter.
“That’s sexy.” I winked.
“Yours is as well.” He draped the batgirl apron over my head then tied the back.
“I love it, Chandler. Thank you.”
“I need a picture of us. Don’t worry I’ll wash my hands again.”
He pulled me into his side, then snapped our pic. Who was I kidding? We were adorable together.
“One more.” He faced me, wrapped his arm around my waist, leaned down, taking my lips.
“God, Chandler.”
“I know. We’re magical together.”
He stuffed his cell in his pocket then washed his hands in the kitchen sink. “I will follow your process. It’s been years since I baked.”
“We’ll measure the ingredients first.”
“What’s your favorite item to bake?”
“Pies from scratch.”
His brows rose. “Of course.”
I laughed. “Blueberry pies always turn out so beautiful.”
“Your face lights up when you talk about your passion. Would you like to bake full time?”
“Yes.” I bit my lower lip.
“Where? Out of your kitchen?”
“No, there’s a cute retail space on Peachtree Street. It’s small and perfect. I’ve visited other small bakeries over the years. I love seeing that line out the door which signifies the baked goods are amazing. I want that line. I’ve saved for a long time. Still not enough to cover the cost of renovations for the space.” My smile rose and fell as I sifted the flour. “Anyway, in the meantime, I will continue baking right here. My sister helps sometimes. If you wouldn’t have volunteered, she would’ve assisted me.”
“There are investors who’d love to help make your dream come true.”
My brow rose. “Really?”
“Yeah. Seth happens to be one of them. I could talk to him. You would need to present your business plan. He’d gift twenty percent of the overall cost, then the rest would be a private business loan.”
“Sounds good. Those ingredients sitting next to the mixer pour them in the bowl please.”
He followed my directions.
“How many cakes are we baking at once?”
“Four. Luckily, we only have to bake eight. After the cakes cool, I’ll teach you how to apply the icing. It’s all in the stroke.”
Face plant. OMG, Gabrielle. I peeked up at him.
We laughed.
The buzzer sounded.
“That’s our dinner. I’ll run down and grab it.”
“Ok.”
Chandler didn’t mind how I rambled on about baking. He actually asked tons of questions about my technique. Even if he didn’t care, it was nice to talk to someone about my passion.
We sat on the couch sipping the red wine and eating Chinese food.
“I don’t want to drink too much. We still have to ice the cakes.”
“Ok.”
“Why did you decide to become a firefighter?” I stared at him with intrigue.
His smile vanished. He rubbed his palms on his thighs. “I wanted to save lives. When I was seven, I woke up to the sound of my mother’s voice. She repeatedly yelled ‘fire.’” He never met my gaze. Chandler stared into the distance.
“I hopped out of bed, wrapped my blanket around my body. I touched the door knob and it burned my hand.” He rubbed his palm. “I gripped the knob with the blanket and opened the door. The hallway leading to my mother was engulfed in flames. I could see her crying face in the distance. She begged me to get out. She told me she loved me. I refused to leave. The flames took her just like that in front of me. My lungs filled with smoke and I fell to the floor. Next thing I knew, I was on the grass in my front yard watching my house burn to the ground. Whoever saved my life wasn’t there when the firefighters arrived at the scene. My mother was burned beyond recognition. Only my family, Chief Brennings, and you, know what happened to my mother.”
Tears streamed down my face. I looped my arms around his neck. “That’s the dream you have every night.” He held me tight. I stroked his head.
“Yes,” he breathed into my neck.
“Would you excuse me?”
“Yeah.” I retracted my arms. He was a brick wall. Showed no emotions.
He darted into the bathroom.
I was afraid he’d leave. So many questions flooded my brain. Did he relocate to Atlanta because she died? He mentioned his father, but I was curious about their relationship. I walked back into the kitchen and mixed the icing we needed.
The guilt he carried, I imagined was too heavy to bear. I wondered if he ever spoke to a psychiatrist. He ran into burning buildings why?
“I’m ready to learn the frosting technique.” He fell to my side.
“All right, pick up your spatula and just mimic how I turn the plate as I apply the icing.”
He nodded. “Who taught you how to bake?”
“My grandmother, Marcella, on my mom’s side of the family. My sister and me called her granny Cellie,” I snickered.
Chandler smiled.
“We spent time at her house most summers. When she baked, she sang in Spanish.” I smiled at the memory.
“Is she Latin?”
“She’s Puerto Rican. I don’t speak a lot of Spanish, but I know enough to get by,” I chuckled.
“My mom, Clarisa and sister Erica can bake too. My sister’s the only one who doesn’t care to bake.” I smirked.
“But she supports me. If I need help, she’s here in a heartbeat.”
“That’s cool.”
“Is your father Puerto Rican too?”
“No, my dad Levi is black and my mother is Puerto Rican and black.”
“We’re all mixed up. Only adds to our culture.”
“I can’t wait to learn all about your culture.” His lips fell against mine.
My lips picked up at both ends after our kiss.
“When do you drop off the order?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“I can take you.”
“No, that’s unnecessary.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m in the process of purchasing a new house. It’s not a big house. It’s more like a one floor ranch. But contemporary. Seth said it was hard for him to find the house in Buckhead.”
“He sells real estate too?”
“Yes. My uncle Dirk and his wife Violet own a real estate company. So Seth and Sebastian still sell real estate on the side.”
“Sure, I’d like that. Why did you move to Atlanta?”
“Sebastian thought I needed a change of scenery. This isn’t my first time living here. When I was a teenager, I lived with my uncle Dirk and his family. The death of my mother Sara broke his heart. Hayden and Victoria’s mother, Joanne, is my mother’s sister. They worry about me till this day. They were excited when I said I was moving back here.”
“That’s good you have a family that cares about you. What about your f
ather?”
“I’d rather not talk about him.”
“Ok.” His father was off limits. He was hiding something. Not sure what? At least he had a good support system.
“Your cake looks pretty good. Six more to go.” I smirked.
An hour later, I walked him to the door.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping me.”
He pulled me into his big, strong arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”
“Yes.” I pushed back from him.
“Have a good night.”
“Can you look at me?”
“Chandler, no.”
“Why?”
I pondered on my answer. “You chose your job why?”
He sighed. “To save lives.”
“Chandler, tell the truth.”
He glanced at the ceiling then back at me. “I couldn’t save my mother. What’s wrong with me wanting to save someone else’s life?”
“How far are you willing to go?”
He clutched his fists at his sides. “I’m the first one in and the last firefighter out most times.”
“Jesus, Chandler.” My hand flew over my mouth. “So, you are putting everyone else’s life above yours? Where do I fit into all of this? Am I supposed to be ok with you possibly dying too soon, because you just had to save that one person who really couldn’t be saved?”
I tightly gripped my head. “I don’t know if I can do this, Chandler.”
He cupped my face. “I want to be here for you. For the first time in my life, I wanted something meaningful. I live a lonely life. My team drags me out to the bar. If they didn’t, I’d sit in the house and stew in my grief. It consumes me. I’m really trying. That’s why I never approached you. I wanted you, Gabrielle. I wanted you to be mine from the first moment I laid eyes on you.
“You have to want to live for you too, Chandler.”
His head dropped against mine. “You’re right.”
“You don’t have to tell me why you and your father have a strained relationship, but one day you will.”
“Ok.”
“See you tomorrow, Chandler.”
“Bye, Gabrielle.”
Everyone had problems and struggled to deal with them. Mine was believing a relationship could stand the test of time. For the first time, I was willing to try.