by Leslie North
“All right. When I start stirring this bowl, you start stirring that one. We need to get everything timed perfectly because these ingredients are more than a little tricky. Ready? Go!”
Ian started stirring quickly enough to cause a mild splatter on the counter near his bowl, matching Katie arm rotation for arm rotation. Her brow was furrowed with concentration but the more they both stirred, the happier she looked until her face popped up and she cried out again in alarm.
“Oh my God! We’ve got these both perfect, but I totally forgot. I don’t have the pan to pour them in!”
“On it,” Ian said matter-of-factly, reaching out blindly and somehow coming up with the prize. She nodded fiercely, and they both poured, their two mixes mingling together until it was difficult to tell what had come from where. She opened her mouth again, and before she could say a thing, he pulled the stove door open, slid the pan inside, and shut the door again. When he looked back at Katie, she was hopping up and down in a little victory dance circle. When she stopped and looked up at him, her eyes were shining with success.
“That was it!” she cried happily, “That was totally it. It’s going to be perfect!” she crowed, slapping him on the arm. He looked down at where her hand lingered, and she pulled it back, still happy but maybe a little unsure now, too.
“Sorry about that,” she laughed nervously, “hazard of the pastime. Didn’t you know that cooking is a contact sport?”
Ian looked at her for a long minute before he made up his mind. When he moved, it was quickly and without a hesitation. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but all he knew was what he wanted, and what he wanted was her. Her mouth-watering body and uncertain smile. The dusting of flour across the bridge of her nose and the way she was chewing on her lip now that she thought she might have gone too far. He moved forward, pressing her hips up against the countertop with his own. She smelled like sugar and her skin beneath his fingers was warm, soft, and supple. His lips found hers and he sunk into the taste of her mouth, her tongue. He moved his hands from her wrists, ran them up the length of her slender forearms, and let them rest on her ribcage right underneath her breasts.
He didn’t want to put an end to the kiss, God, he didn’t want to put an end to it, but after seconds that felt like millennia, he pulled back. His breathing was heavy, and he could see that hers was, too. She licked her lips, bit the bottom one, and laughed unsteadily.
“Whew! Okay, not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”
“I don’t know. There’s just something about a woman in the kitchen that’s too sexy to pass up. And there’s all of the trouble you’re going to for Andy. I figure anyone willing to do so much for my boy deserves some sugar herself.”
11
Ian went whistling through the front door of the ranch, inhaling the scent of baked goods. He basically expected it now, as spoiled as that probably made him. Every day was the same, with Katie coming up with insanely good sweets that kept him and Andy full and happy. If she didn’t slow it down some, they were going to be fat and happy as well, but when it came to Andy, that couldn’t be anything but good. He popped his head through the kitchen door, half expecting to see Katie in there concocting something new, and saw nothing but trays of something that looked like brownies. After a glance at the spot where he’d pushed her against the countertop—a memory that still left him hot and tingling all over whenever it came to mind—he went off in search of her. It seemed like he’d been doing that a lot lately, looking for her.
He finally found her in the study, sitting in front of the computer with a grim expression.
“Katie, what’s with the long face?”
She looked up, her eyes warm but also sad, and then her eyes fell instinctively back to screen. “Oh, nothing. Just looking at all of the horrible things people have to say about me online. Social media can be a pretty awful place, you know?”
“Christ,” Ian groaned, walking around the desk and bending down with his hands planted on his knees to get a better look, “why would you do that to yourself? Honestly, Katie, what’s the point?”
“I don’t know. I’m not posting anything. I’m just looking,” she answered miserably. Now that he was up close, he noticed she looked damned close to crying. Seeing it made him something very like angry.
“Right, looking. Why, so you can feel bad? I don’t get it; I really don’t. Why martyr yourself, listening to a bunch of crap from people who don’t know anything?”
“I’m not trying to be a martyr,” she answered a little defensively, “I’m really not. Actually, I’m thinking about setting up a new account. Someplace where I can post my new stuff. Under a pseudonym, of course. I don’t think anyone would be all that interested in looking at recipes if they knew they were coming from me.”
“Recipes from the stuff you’ve been doing for Andy? That’s not a bad idea, but why not take out the middleman and go directly to the consumer?”
Katie’s eyebrows knit together, and she looked at the screen again while she considered what he’d just said. It was stupid, but his stomach did a weird little flip-flop while he waited to see what her reaction would be. He wasn’t an idiot. He was fully aware that he was treading where he didn’t belong. When she looked back up at him, though, she didn’t look so much pissed off as confused.
“I don’t think I know what you mean,” she said finally.
“Stop bothering with posting pictures for strangers to see. You should try selling the things you make in person.”
“But where would I sell them?” she asked doubtfully. He could already see the wheels in her head turning, trying to come up with a reason for why it wouldn’t work out.
“You could try the bakery in town, see how things work out. It might do you some good to deal with real people. To see how much they like your stuff. Because they will, Katie. You’re damned good at what you do. Me and Andy won’t be the only people who see that.”
“I guess I could do that,” she answered thoughtfully, her eyes losing their focus and getting that far-away look people got when they were really considering something, “although I don’t have the first idea how I would go about it. I’ve never actually sold my physical cooking. I’ve only ever put the recipes out there and, well, you know the way that story ended.”
“It didn’t end,” Ian insisted. He couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t let this thing go, but he knew he couldn’t. Maybe because she had been living in his house for weeks upon weeks and never wanted anything for herself. He’d thought she was coming to stay with him to mooch off of him, to take advantage of the favor he’d owed her uncle. Knowing her the way he did now, he felt like a piece of shit for even thinking it. She was the most generous, giving person he’d ever met. The least he could do was try to help her find something good for herself, the way she’d been doing for him and his son.
“I know, I didn’t mean it that way,” she answered uncertainty.
“So try something different. I know the people who run the bakery. I’m sure they’d be glad to have your stuff in their place. When they see how well it sells, they’ll be more than glad—they’ll be grateful.”
Ian waited, watching Katie’s face. He was so sure she was going to throw the idea out that he was already halfway through working out his next argument for her to shut down.
“Okay,” she finally answered, “that sounds like a good idea. It’s worth a shot anyway, right?”
“Hell yeah, it is,” he laughed. He was so genuinely surprised that he picked up one of her gnawed-on hands and kissed the palm. She gasped in surprise and then laughed, brushing the hair out of her face with the hand she still had free.
“Okay then, we’ll give it a chance. Just for laughs, you know? Just to see. I don’t know about the rest of it, honestly. I still might do the Instagram thing. A new profile, a fake name. It’s what I’m used to. It’s the way I know how to operate. I’m not sure I’m ready to let that go.”
Ian nodded, careful to ke
ep his face even. She was on board with his plan, and that was what he’d wanted. To help her, the way she’d helped him. He had no right to be so disappointed to hear that she wasn’t ready to give up on her social media fascination. Why did he hate the idea so much? Why did it feel like she was choosing complete strangers over her own life?
12
It was a week after Ian’s suggestion to sell her baked goods and Katie still couldn’t get the conversation out of her head. It was absurdly touching that he would bother to think up an idea for her career, and that he was willing to go through people he knew to help her out. The last time someone trusted her with a new endeavor, it had gone just about as wrong as it could go, and her entire life had blown up. She was lucky enough to be unattached, and her mistakes had only harmed her. If she let Ian help her and screwed everything up again, well—
Her thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected melody. She was out for a walk in the fields, turning her face up to the sky and letting the warm sun pour over her when she heard the rich baritone voice ringing out in the afternoon air. It was a surprisingly lovely sound, and she recognized who it was immediately—Ian. Ian in the outdoor shower again and singing…
“Usher?” she whispered, giggling to herself excitedly. It was definitely Usher; she knew that for sure. It was a song from when she was in high school, one of the songs that had always made her want to do something dirty, get into a little trouble. The fact that Ian was singing it in the shower was almost too delicious for her to take. The smart move would be to turn around and go straight back to the house, but all of a sudden she didn’t feel much like being smart. All she had to do was close her eyes to see him standing there in that shower, the water running over every part of him like the luckiest river in the world. When she pictured that, she knew that for her, today, smart was not an option.
Ian could hear Katie making her way through the field, just like he’d heard her when she’d happened upon him in the shower a week ago. Then, he’d been surprised and a little bit embarrassed. Since Lonnie, there hadn’t been anyone around but the hands, Carol, Andy, and from time to time his brothers. None of them ever came near the shower, and he’d stopped thinking about it as a public space altogether. Katie’s surprised gasp had been the first reminder that things were different now. With Katie there, even little things like a shower under the sun became a different ballgame.
This time was different. He’d seen her go out for her walk and although he wouldn’t go so far as to say that he’d gone to the shower hoping to be found out, the possibility of it had been there in the back of his head. He heard her nearby, and he couldn’t help it; he started putting on a little show. His voice rose with the tune he was willing to bet she was shocked to hear coming from him, and he started swaying his hips along to the rhythm. He let the water run over the top of his head until his hair was good and soaked, then stepped forward and shook it wildly, like a dog coming out of the rain. The shower had been banged together with little concern for concealment, and the water from his hair traveled far.
“Oh!” Katie gasped before she was able to stop herself. He saw it on her face, the moment when she realized that she’d been loud enough for him to hear. He moved closer to the shower wall and looked at her through one of the gaps. This was the moment when he would find out if he was being a pathetic single dad wanting a woman he couldn’t have or, if like he suspected, she wanted the same thing he did.
“Hey there, Katie,” he said with an easy smile, “I see you’ve found my homemade shower.”
“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly, her face so red it was almost the exact shade of her hair, “I’m so sorry. Seriously, Ian, I don’t know what to say. I heard you singing, and I recognized the song, and this is the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me. I—”
“I just have one question for you,” he asked, cutting off what sounded like a long-winded, very uncomfortable apology.
“Yes?” She gulped, looking like she might bolt at any second.
“Care to join me?”
The words hung in the air, and for a second, the two of them just looked at each other. He probably should have been embarrassed, but he wasn’t. There was a dare in his voice, and he meant it to be there. All he wanted now, aside from her, was to see if she would take it. When her face erupted into a smile, he knew that she would. She walked forward slowly, kicking her Keds off at the crude shower door. Her hands moved to the buttons of her summer dress, and she undid one after the other, her eyes never leaving his. By the time it was completely undone and pooled on the ground beside her shoes, Ian was fully hard. It wasn’t a game anymore—if it ever had been. She opened the door and stepped into the shower, moving right up in front of him, all signs of nerves gone now.
“Hi,” she said softly. He reached for her, his fingertips grazing her skin lightly, moving faster when she let out a little moan. Her nipples grew as hard as he was, and his thumb moved to run over one of them, then the other.
“Hey there,” he answered, smiling and kissing the top of her already wet head. She smelled like lavender on top of the ever-present scent of sugar that always made him think how good she would taste. His stiff, painfully hard cock quivered and when she pressed her trembling hand against it, it was his turn to groan.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice thick and throaty, “It might make things kind of—”
“Don’t give a shit about that,” he said simply. “Do you?”
“Right now? Couldn’t care less.” She laughed, sounding a little surprised at herself, and rose up onto the tips of her toes for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing the whole of her body against his. He kissed her, letting himself sink into it the way he’d done in the kitchen—only this time, with the understanding that things wouldn’t stop. He pressed his tongue against her lips, sliding it inside of her full, open mouth. She tasted like strawberries, and when his tongue touched hers, her hand wrapped around his cock more tightly, her fingers moving up and down with a talent that was almost scary.
“Whoa,” he laughed shakily, “careful now. This isn’t the sexiest thing a guy could say, but it’s been a little while. I haven’t—”
“Don’t worry; there’s nothing about you that’s not sexy.”
He kissed her again, and this time his hands moved down to the sweet spot between her legs. It was true that it had been a couple of years, but it turned out, this was just like riding a bicycle. She gasped, then sighed, and when his fingers sped up, her breath came out in pants. Her hips rocked against him, and her hand moved up and down his shaft faster and faster the closer she got. When she came, she threw her head back, cried out loud, and pulled him to her desperately. It was like a reflex, what came next. He cupped her full, luscious ass in his hands and lifted her up, pushing her against the wall while she wrapped her legs around him.
“Oh, God, Ian,” she sighed into his ear, causing goosebumps to break out all over his body, “please. I want to feel you inside of me.”
Ian groaned again and drove into her for the first time, hard and deep. She gasped out something that sounded like yes, and her hips rocked in time with his. He felt it almost immediately, the heat building inside of him, the possibility of losing control. The heat was in her, too. It was in her face, in the way she clawed at his back with raw, physical need. If someone were to go for a walk within a mile of where they were, they would be found out. There was no controlling their volume. They had been waiting for too long.
And, when he thrust into her again, Katie came, too. Her entire body shuddered as her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Oh! Oh, I’m coming. I... I…!”
He moaned, thrust once, twice, three times more, and then he couldn’t hold back any longer. He let himself go, and the two of them came together, fast and hard. When he put her down the two of them just stood there for a minute, looking at each other with the kind of satisfaction a person only got one way.
“Well,” Ka
tie finally said, glancing down at their naked bodies, “that just happened, didn’t it?”
13
“Hey, I think I’m getting pretty damn good at this, what do you say?”
Katie, who was the reason God had invented the downward dog position, looked at him through her legs and rolled her eyes. When the instructor made an elaborate shushing sound, Katie shot him a knowing, mock-disapproving look and made a show of paying attention. Ian had to admit; he was becoming more a fan of yoga than he would have expected. There was the practical part—it did wonders for his back and eased the stress of hours in the saddle—and then there was the other part. Watching Katie’s ass in one of her many pairs of yoga pants had to be good for the soul. Hands down, it just had to be.
“Are you proud of yourself?” she whispered, laughing as she moved effortlessly from the downward dog to a weird series of moves he couldn’t have reproduced if he tried, to some funny tree pose. Ian watched the way her muscles moved underneath the spandex of her yoga pants, long and lean and perfectly practiced. He briefly considered trying to copy what she and the rest of the class were doing, but he opted for standing on both feet instead. He had a feeling that trying to loop his foot around his leg and stand “proud and tall” would only have him making an ass out of himself.
“What exactly are you looking at, sir?” she asked without looking over her shoulder. She didn’t have to look to know that he was watching her move. He liked that. She might not have the confidence she should have about her business, but when it came to her physicality, she was all confidence, all the time. He watched her move, running over the many ways he could show her how much he was enjoying the show later on when they got somewhere more private. That was when the door behind them burst wide open.