by Lacey Black
“You could shower here, if you wanted.”
She seems to consider my offer, but only for a second. “Actually, all of my stuff is down the hall. It would probably be easier to just go shower there.”
Ignoring the disappointment that creeps in, I cover it with a quick nod. “That makes sense. I’ll run down and start a pot of coffee,” I state, slipping out of my bed and walking toward the closet.
Lyndee pauses halfway to the door, her eyes watching me. Specifically, on my cock. It’s half-hard and only getting harder with each passing second.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, you’ll never get to the bakery.” There’s heat in my voice, a desire that can’t be masked.
She glances up, her cheeks blushing a cute pink. “Sorry.”
I chuckle. “Don’t apologize, sweets. Clearly, I want you just as badly,” I state, pointing down at my ready-to-go dick.
She scurries from the room, grabbing her pajama pants and top on her way, leaving me standing naked in my closet. I toss on a T-shirt and pair of flannel pants and tie the drawstring around my waist. Once I’m dressed, I head to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth.
In the hallway, I hear the sound of the water running coming from the gym. Lyndee didn’t shut the door she left open early this morning. The thought of her naked and wet in the shower has my cock right back to full-mast, ready to strip out of my pants and join her underneath the hot spray. I can just picture it now, me holding her against the tile wall and burying myself balls-deep in one stroke.
Adjusting myself, I forego that brilliant plan and continue down the stairs. She really does need to get going or she’ll be late and most likely be behind all day. As a chef, that’s the worst feeling in the world. Those are the days where you never seem to catch up, always feeling one step behind, and I refuse to do that to Lyndee.
I turn on the coffee pot, but then remember what Lyndee said about preferring tea. I dig out the kettle, fill it halfway with water, and turn on the burner. I check my pantry and find a few varieties of tea, all of which I purchased when I was trying anything and everything to help with my insomnia.
In the variety pack, I find a chai called Good Morning and drop two bags into a travel mug. I’m just pouring the water into the mug when I hear her soft footfalls on the stairs. I grab the lid just as she walks around the corner, looking fresh and gorgeous on this Monday morning.
“That smells good,” she says, setting her purse on the counter.
“I made you tea. I don’t know if it’s any good, but it has all the good shit you need to start your day,” I reply, carefully removing the teabags and screwing on the lid.
She grins as I hand her the mug. “Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered.”
I shrug off the compliment and walk her to the garage. I grab the spare opener off the shelf and stick it on her visor. “Just pull back in when you get here tonight.”
“I don’t mind parking outside,” she replies, throwing her purse onto the passenger seat.
“No need. I have the space and now your vehicle is already warm.”
She goes to pull her door closed but stops. “Thanks for bringing Dustin in a bit. I really appreciate it.”
“I don’t mind, sweets, really. He gets to rest a little longer, and he’s a pretty cool guy. I like hanging out with him,” I state with a smile.
She returns the gesture, her brown eyes sparkling with happiness. “He likes you too.”
Something passes between us, but we leave it unspoken. Whatever it is, it calms and roots me. “I’ll see you later,” I say, helping close her door.
I watch as she starts her vehicle, opens the door, and slowly backs out. Once the front end is clear, she presses the button and lowers the door. When I’m left in silence, I finally head back inside, suddenly anxious to start my day. Usually, this is the point where I start to plan and prepare for a busy Monday at Burgers and Brew, complete with the owners’ meeting in the afternoon, but all I can think about now is getting through the day and coming back home.
Because Lyndee will be here.
And surprisingly, that thought doesn’t scare me as much as I thought it would.
***
I’m pouring myself a second cup of coffee when Dustin joins me in the kitchen. He’s using his walker, though no obvious signs of limping like last night. “Good morning. Coffee?” I ask as he joins me at the island bar.
“Sure.”
I pour him a cup. “Sugar or milk?”
“No, just black.” When I set the cup in front of him, he offers a quick thanks and takes a sip. “Wow, that’s good.”
“It’s a dark roast from South America. One of my suppliers gets it for a fancy café a few towns over and always sells me extra bags. It’s my favorite. I have a hard time drinking Folgers after this stuff,” I tell him, enjoying my own sip.
“I like it. So, what’s going on with you and my sister?”
His question almost gives me whiplash. One minute we’re discussing coffee and suddenly he’s asking about my relationship with his sister. The one who slept naked in my bed last night after I did dirty things to her body.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I don’t really know what to say.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I reply, my throat dry and scratchy.
“Do you like her?”
I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to look away. If we’re going to have this conversation, he deserves to hear the truth. “I do.”
Dustin relaxes in his seat and sips his coffee. “I don’t need to know details or anything, but I feel like I need to say this. Don’t hurt her. She doesn’t get to go out a lot and have fun. She’s devoted her whole life to making sure my needs are met, and not just since Mom died. She was that way before too.” He focuses on the cup in his hands. “I just want her to be happy. She deserves someone to put her first for a while.”
I swallow hard and lean against the island. His words hit me square in the chest with enough force, they could knock a man down. She does deserve that, and more. I just wish I was the man who could give it to her.
“We’re friends,” I start, trying to find the right words. It’s hard to have this conversation with him, especially since I haven’t had it with her. “I don’t know where this will lead, if anywhere. I like spending time with her—”
“And kissing her clearly,” he retorts with a smirk.
I almost spit out the coffee I just sipped. “Yes, well, that’s nice too,” I reply with a chuckle.
Dustin sighs. “She’s my best friend, Jasper. I don’t have a lot of friends and neither does she. We have each other. I’m not telling you to figure this out now. I can tell by the look on your face, you’re two seconds away from panicking,” he states with a huge grin. “All I’m saying is if you want something with her, go all-in. If not, don’t string her along, okay?”
I consider his words for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Deal.”
He gives me a decisive nod and brings his cup to his lips once more, ending the conversation. From the first time I met Dustin, I liked him. Now, I respect the hell out of him. He’s a good man and wants the best for his sister. He says she’s taking care of him, but I really think that road runs both ways. I think they take care of each other, even if they don’t realize it.
“What do you say we hit a Reds game this spring?” I ask, watching as the excitement fills his eyes.
“Really? I’d love that! Lyndee went with me a couple of years ago, but she doesn’t know a bunt from a home run,” he proclaims, a new energy filling the room. It’s an excitement, like walking up to the ballpark on Opening Day.
“Sure. It’s been years since I went, and I’m due. I think you’re just the man to join me for a day at the ballpark. Hotdogs, beer, and maybe a pretzel with cheese.”
“I’m in! Just tell me when.” His energy is contagious.
“When they release their schedule, we’l
l take a look and see which game you think we should hit,” I tell him, feeling a bit excited myself, even if Opening Day isn’t for almost four months.
“Yeah, sounds good.” He takes another drink of his coffee before he asks, “Do you think the other guys would want to come?”
I stop, quickly realizing who he’s referring to. It’s not often that all four of us are off at the same time, but it does happen. Case in point, last night. We have a great team in place, and I’m sure they’ll get by without us just like always. “Walker and Jameson would be there in a heartbeat, but Isaac will take some convincing. He’s a workaholic,” I add with a teasing tone.
“Like you?” Dustin asks, laughing.
“Like me,” I quip, smiling over my coffee cup. “Come on, smarty pants. Let’s get you to the bakery.”
***
“What happened last night?”
I glance up from the grill and find Jameson standing near me, his dark eyes assessing. The first thing to flash through my mind is Lyndee, spread wide open as I eat her sweet pussy. Then there’s the image of me taking her from behind, my ears filling with the sounds of every one of her three orgasms.
But I don’t tell him that. Those dirty replays are for my filthy mind only.
Instead, I shrug. “What do you mean?”
“Dustin said they had a pipe burst and are staying with you?”
I place the burger I’m grilling onto the ready bun and send the plate off to get fries. “Yeah. Should only be a few days. Why?”
Jameson’s grin starts slow and spreads widely across his face. “Interesting.”
“What is?” I ask, placing four freshly made patties on the grill top.
“You. Lyndee. Sharing a house,” he states, his all-knowing eyes following my every move.
“It’s not like that,” I argue.
Oh, but it is.
Jameson barks out a laugh. “If you say so, but you should probably put your tongue away. Ever since I mentioned her name, it’s been dangling out of your mouth like a dog in heat.”
I narrow my eyes at my friend. “Fuck you.”
He snorts. “Tempting, but you’re not my type. Lyndee though…”
A growl erupts from my throat, making him laugh.
“And I rest my case.” Jameson steps forward and lowers his voice so the rest of my kitchen staff can’t hear. “I really like her, and I think she’d be good for you. Might even get you out of the kitchen every now and again.”
“It’s not like that,” I argue, flipping the patties before they’re ready.
“So you’ve said, but your eyes tell a different story, Jasper. All I’m saying is don’t discount something because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I counter.
He just gives me a look, letting me know he doesn’t believe me. “Fine, you’re not scared. But you’re not doing what you should be doing either, which is asking her out on a date.”
“A date?” The concept seems a little foreign to me. How long has it been since I’ve gone out on a date? A hookup, sure. Taken women home from the bar, yes. But dinner and a movie? Shit, probably since college. Maybe even high school. The women I’ve been with recently knew the score. Sex and fun.
“Yeah, a date. Take her out, get to know her outside of the bedroom. It’s this radical new concept, you should try it.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve tried it. Not my thing.”
“Okay, but it might be Lyndee’s thing. All I’m saying is you could give it a shot. She seems like the type of woman who likes the whole wine and dine thing,” he says, making me think.
Is he right? Is Lyndee a big date kind of woman? She’s already said she doesn’t like flowers, but what about all the other bullshit that goes along with dating someone? Fancy dinners, expensive wines, and moonlit walks under the stars?
Shit.
My mind floods with questions, but no answers. Before I go there, I probably need to decide what I want out of this. I’ll admit, at first, I wanted sex, but now? After I’ve gotten to know her a little bit? The attraction I feel is too big to ignore, and the idea of spending more time with her, possibly even going on a date or two, has some appeal. Add in great sex, which I already know is pretty fucking phenomenal, and this dating thing doesn’t sound so bad.
“Come on, Romeo. The guys will be waiting to start our meeting. Bring the food and get your lovesick ass to the bar,” Jameson says, humor lacing every word, as he slaps me on the back and heads off to the door.
I finish making the burgers, but my mind isn’t present. No, all thoughts are across the street with Lyndee. I wonder what she’s doing right now and how her day has been. Will she be home when I get there? And why does it make my heart happy when I think about her being there, waiting?
Sighing, I plate up the food, put it on a tray, and head to the bar for our weekly meeting, doing all I can to leave thoughts of Lyndee behind.
Chapter Twenty
Lyndee
“Hey, something smells amazing in here,” Jasper says as he enters the kitchen, having just kicked off his shoes in the mudroom.
“I know you’re the chef, but I thought I’d give it a try tonight. As a thank you for letting us stay here,” I reply, pulling the chicken dish out of the oven and setting it on the potholders on the counter.
He leans against the fridge, so very close to me, and smirks. “I believe you have the same degree as I do, sweets,” he states, opening the door and grabbing a bottle of water.
“True, but we took two totally different paths in our careers. I prefer to stick to the basics,” I confess, uncovering the garlic smashed potatoes on the stove and sticking a spoon in the pot.
When I glance at him, I find his eyes watching me intently, the faintest hint of a smile on those lips. Lips that did very naughty things to my body early this morning. I have to turn away to hide the blush.
“Well, I’m impressed. This definitely isn’t basic.” Jasper watches as I plate the chicken and take it to the table. He follows suit, delivering the potatoes to the center of the set table and joining me at one of the three settings.
“Where’s Dustin?” he asks, scooping a piece of stuffed chicken onto his plate.
“Right here,” my brother chimes in as he enters the kitchen, a big smile on his face. “And I have news.”
I can feel myself blushing.
“Tell me,” Jasper instructs, scooping a healthy dollop of potatoes on his plate.
“I have a date.” Dustin takes a seat and dives into the food. “Tomorrow night.”
“Really?” he asks, eyes wide. “With who?”
“Daisy’s older sister, Dana. She came in again today, and we got to chatting,” Dustin informs Jasper.
“For almost two hours,” I mumble with humor in my voice. The truth is, he worked while they visited, and I could tell there was something going on. Since my brother doesn’t have a lot of friends, I stayed away and let it unfold.
When I glance up, Jasper is grinning ear to ear. “That’s awesome. Where are ya going?”
“Actually, to your place. She mentioned she had a craving for the Ride A Cowboy Burger and asked me if I wanted to go with her.”
Jasper slices into his chicken but meets my gaze at Dustin’s statement. “She asked him?”
I nod. “It was so cute. A little awkward, but so cute. He didn’t know what to say at first. He’s never been asked out before,” I tell him, cutting into my own meat.
“Truth. Girls don’t usually go after weirdos like me,” my brother says with a smile on his face.
“I think it’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. I’ll be sure Ross makes perfect burgers for you tomorrow night.” Jasper takes a bite. “Wow, this is delicious. Tell me about it.”
“Oh, it’s just stuffed chicken. Nothing fancy.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. It’s really good. Obviously, there’s tomato and spinach, but what cheese is this? Gouda?” he asks, taking a critical look at what’s on his for
k.
“Asiago,” I answer. “One of my favorite dishes is grilled tomatoes with spinach and Cheddar, but I thought I’d try something different with this recipe. I really like the nutty flavor in the cheese and thought it would really complement the tomato.”
“You did well. I love it.”
“Thanks,” I reply, beaming with excitement and a little pride.
“You know, your grilled tomato idea might make a great burger topping,” he says, seeming very intrigued with the food in front of his face.
“Really?” My excitement turns to shock.
“Yeah. I’ve used fresh tomatoes, but not grilled ones. And adding the zesty spinach and cheese to the vegetables, not the meat, would definitely be an interesting concept,” he states, taking another bite of his food. “I’d have to try it on the hamburger, but I think you’re on to something here.”
I can’t stop smiling as I take a bite of my food and chew. It feels good to have inspired Jasper to possibly create a whole new burger for the restaurant. What makes me grin even more is watching him dissect his food, analyzing each flavor, and studying it with a critical eye. He doesn’t actually say much during the meal, but that’s okay. I can tell he’s in chef mode, his brain working overtime to invent.
“What?” he asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing. I’m just watching you work,” I tell him, finishing up my potatoes and feeling completely stuffed.
He drops his napkin, his eyes looking contrite. “I’m sorry. I tend to get lost in my own head sometimes.”
“No, don’t apologize. I do the same thing when I’m in the zone in the kitchen,” I reply. “It’s fun to watch you go through the creative process, especially on something I might have inadvertently suggested.”
He grins widely, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, teasing.
I shrug. “I am. I think I deserve more accolades.”
Jasper barks out a laugh, setting his napkin down beside his empty plate. “Like a prize?” Something naughty flashes in his eyes and causes my entire body to heat with desire.