Must Love Frosting

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “How?”

  “I thought dirty thoughts of you every time I taste-tested the batter.”

  He growled from deep in his throat and his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer. “Why would you say that before we’ve even left for the restaurant?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Never ever apologize for dirty thoughts of me. Now, let’s spark some dirty thoughts of us.”

  She smiled as he tilted his head to capture her lips again. By the time he dragged his mouth from hers, she was ready to say the hell with dinner and skip straight to dessert. She had a small, leftover pastry bag of his favorite frosting in the fridge they could share in creative ways.

  “I should not have done that before we left,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “But this right here is exactly why I had to stay away.”

  Heart racing in her chest, she reached down past his leather belt and palmed his erection through his dress pants. “Are you sure you’re going to make it through dinner?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed with his audible gulp. “My doubts are increasing by the second.”

  She arched her eyebrows in question, and he pushed away from her with a guttural groan. His hooded gaze swept down the length of her before he spun around and raised both arms to rake his hands through his hair.

  “There’s a reason why I wanted to take you to dinner first.”

  Honor stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Tell me.”

  He quickly lowered his arms so his hands covered hers on his firm stomach. “Uh…gimmie a sec.”

  She loved knowing she made him this hot and bothered.

  He thwarted her attempt to slide her hands lower by threading their fingers together as he answered, “Romance. Respect. Seduction.”

  “You’ve already covered all three, Asher. Promise.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “I booked a reservation.”

  “Cancel it.”

  He hesitated long enough she thought he might agree, but then he said, “I want to do this right.”

  Of course he did. He was a long-haul guy. Ignoring the way her stomach bottomed out at that thought, she teased, “After Wednesday, I have no doubt you’ll do it right.”

  “Geezus, Honor.” He hung his head with a low, laughing groan.

  After a deep breath, he turned around in her arms. She thought she’d convinced him they could skip dinner, until she met his gaze. Desire blazed hot and heady, but it was tempered by the uncertain frown drawing his dark eyebrows down over his amber eyes.

  She sighed, then tilted her head as she stepped back. “You really want to go to dinner first?”

  “At this precise moment, no.” He shot a glance toward her stairs, then returned his turbulent gaze to hers. “But…”

  “But you actually do.” She nodded, oddly touched he was sticking to his guns even though her body buzzed with sexual frustration from head to toe. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  “You’re not mad?” he asked with a touch of suspicion.

  “That you won’t take me upstairs right now?” She laughed softly. “No, I’m not mad. However, fair warning. You will pay for turning me on and before taking me out. You’ve left me wanting more, Asher. Again.”

  She pivoted with a swish of her skirt, then bent to pick up the flowers from the floor, making sure he had a bird’s-eye view of her ass. His whimper-groan made her smile.

  Asher Diamond was in a league of his own when compared to every single one of Honor’s previous dates ever. Forget smokin’ hot. He was honorable. Sweet. Smart. Fun.

  Also, a complete gentleman well skilled at the subtle art of romance. He’d offered his arm out to the car, opened her door both in the driveway and at the restaurant, helped with her chair, and traced his finger back and forth across the back of her hand with the candlelight flickering between them as they finished their wine.

  But most impressive by far, was the way he listened. She’d noticed it the other night while frosting the cake, too. His attention didn’t waver, his eyes lit with interest, and he even asked follow up questions.

  The entire night confirmed he wasn’t just looking for an easy lay—he could’ve had that already. More than once. They’d both left their phones in the car, and with his undivided attention, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to make sure she felt special.

  If she were of the foolish sort to believe in love, she’d be in real danger.

  For once, that voice in her head remained mute. Instead of relief, the silence left an uneasy feeling in her stomach as the waiter dropped off the check and Asher reached to sign. No, it wasn’t unease—it was the result of hyper-sensitivity to every single thing the man did in the low-lit, intimate atmosphere of the small dining room.

  She’d warned him he’d pay for making her wait—and she’d had her moments of retaliation—but he’d upped the seduction level with each smoldering glance, the soft caress of his fingertips on her bare shoulder when she sat, and the side of her calf when he picked up her dropped napkin. Though, that one might have been as hard on him as it had been on her.

  She took a final sip of her wine as Asher set aside the bill and lifted his warm gaze to hers. “All set to go.”

  The low, seductive tone of his voice shortened her breath with anticipation as she moved her napkin from her lap to the table. He came around to the back of her chair and draped her shawl over her shoulders. The gentleman. One hand settled on her shoulder, while the other trailed from her collarbone to the back of her neck, pulling her hair back so he could bend down to press a kiss at the crook of her neck. Now the seducer.

  Cool air replaced his lips, and she shivered as he pulled out her chair. He rested his hand at the small of her back on their way from the restaurant to the bar. Suddenly, she was warm all over again.

  She absently glanced toward the large television in the far corner of the bar as she said, “I’m going to use the restroom before we go.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  She felt the heat of his gaze until the door closed behind her. When she exited the stall, she took an extra minute after washing her hands to speed-brush her teeth and reapply her lip gloss. Back out in the bar, her gaze instinctively sought Asher.

  He glanced her way, but then jerked his head back for a double take of the television. She noticed his entire body stiffen, and when she reached him, her pulse skipped at his ashen expression. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  She moved closer, her heart pounding in trepidation as she followed his gaze to see a preview of the ten o’clock news playing on the TV. When she saw the image on the screen and read the headline below, her jaw went slack with shock.

  Chapter 21

  “News at ten—Grayson Cole, the secret son Governor Diamond doesn’t want his voters or his wife to know about.”

  Asher stared at the face plastered on the TV screen and kept staring even after the preview ended and some insipid reality dating show came back on.

  What the ever-loving-fuck?

  A soft touch on his arm made him flinch, and he looked down into Honor’s green eyes wide with concern.

  “Who was that?”

  He saw the man’s face in his mind’s eye. The image on the TV had looked like Loyal. And he’d even seen some of his other siblings in the features, too. But he’d never seen the guy before in his life.

  Honor’s fingers squeezed his arm and he blinked to bring her face back into focus. He couldn’t think here, surrounded by people and noise and all the questions whirling around in his head.

  “Let’s go.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the exit.

  She pulled against his hold once they were outside in the parking lot. “Asher.”

  The apprehension in her voice hit him square in the gut. When he realized she’d been trotting in her heels to keep up, he immediately slowed his stride. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He shook his head. No, it wasn
’t. This was supposed to be a perfect first date for him to lay the foundation for their future. Instead, he was reeling from a bombshell he never saw coming and had no clue how to handle. He felt like an ass, but everything felt unreal at the moment.

  It’s not true.

  And yet, he couldn’t erase the guy’s face from his memory.

  When he opened the passenger door for Honor, she hesitated before getting in the Camaro. “Do you know him? Is he really your brother?”

  “No.” The curt, single word answered both questions.

  Sympathy softened her gaze. “Do you want me to drive? Are you okay?”

  He took a deep breath and attempted a smile. “I’m fine.”

  After one more moment of her gaze searching his, she slid into the passenger seat. His hand clenched on the door handle to keep from slamming it shut. It wasn’t her fault, damn it. He didn’t want to be a jerk to her. He strode around the back for the driver’s side, confusion, anger, and uncertainty warring inside his chest as he rubbed his neck before yanking open his door to get in.

  Silence sat heavy while he gripped the steering wheel. He wanted to focus on Honor, their evening together, and how much he liked her and wanted her in his life for years to come, but all he could fucking think about was that clip on the TV. Raw fear of the unknown had struck his heart cold when he’d seen that man’s face on the screen.

  Grayson Cole.

  He looked like a Diamond.

  Plenty of people have look-a-likes without any blood relation at all.

  “Could it be true?” Honor asked softly.

  “No,” he denied roughly.

  No fucking way I’ve got a brother I don’t know about. None of us knew about.

  That would mean his father cheated. That would mean his parents’ marriage was nothing but a farce. That would mean they’d lied to him and his brothers and sisters for the past thirty-some years.

  Diamonds don’t divorce.

  They didn’t cheat either. Their love was true and lasting. His mom and dad were soul mates.

  “Maybe you should call your parents.”

  He jerked his head toward Honor at the uncanny timing of her suggestion and saw her reaching into the glove box where they’d both left their phones during dinner.

  “It’s because of the campaign,” he rationalized when she handed him his cell. His fingers clenched on it as he worked up possibilities in his head. “It’s never been this bad, but my dad’s opponents have done this kind of crap before. It’s a common tactic these days. The other side feeds the media a lie to ruin his reputation, and they run with it without checking a single damn fact.”

  “Maybe.”

  He cut his gaze to hers. “Why do you say it like that?”

  Her eyebrows pinched together as she bit her bottom lip. “The resemblance was—”

  “No,” he bit out. “Don’t say it.”

  She didn’t. But then again, she didn’t have to.

  The resemblance was uncanny. Especially to Loyal.

  When her resigned sigh filled the silence, he fisted his free hand on his thigh as he looked over at her. “Honor, I’m sorry. I don’t mean—”

  “Don’t apologize,” she cut him off with a shake of her head. “I get it. Everything is turned completely upside down right now. You need to call your parents and see what is going on.”

  He sure as hell did.

  “Or, let’s drive over there. They’re only a few minutes from here, right?”

  “I need to take you home first.” As he said the words, he finally looked down at his phone and saw he had sixteen new texts in the past hour. Pretty much from everyone in his immediate family, Roxanna, and a few other friends.

  “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

  Honor reached over to grasp his arm. “Asher, let’s just go to your parents’ house right now. I’ll call a ride service to get home. This isn’t something that should wait.”

  He didn’t want to agree, and yet at her insistence, he found himself starting the car and driving the couple miles to his childhood home. After passing a number of news vans out by the gate, he pulled up to the house to find numerous vehicles in the driveway. From his siblings’—excluding Loyal who was back in Texas—to his grandfather’s, to the Explorer his dad’s campaign manager drove. Then there was the red sedan that belonged to the head of the press team.

  Someone was going to earn their salary tonight. Or get fired. Might be a toss-up as to which one.

  He spotted Merit sitting on the brick half-wall of the formal front porch, tumbler in hand. Straight whiskey, no doubt. Shelby leaned against the brick next to him, a beer raised to her lips. His stomach knotted. Great. Merit was one thing, but if Bells was drinking, it was bad.

  Both turned to watch while he parked and hurried around to Honor’s side. She’d already gotten out and stood beside the car. She glanced at his brother and sister by the house, then tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

  “Do you want me to stay? Is there any way I can help?”

  His chest swelled at her offer. He stepped closer, grasping her free hand as the madness of the past fifteen minutes shifted sideways and she took center stage. “You’ve already helped. And I would love for you to stay, but I don’t want the crazy in there”—he gestured toward the house—“to run you off before we have our second date, so it is probably best if you go home.”

  “Your family’s crazy couldn’t hold a candle to mine,” she argued.

  “I’m not willing to chance it.”

  He noticed the front door open and turned to see Celia and Robert step out to join the other two on the porch.

  “You’re sure?” Honor asked as they both stared toward the house.

  “No, but yeah.”

  He returned his gaze to her and saw her lips curve up into a gentle, surprisingly understanding smile. Man, he wished he could just go home with her. Get lost in Honor and forget all this shit.

  She squeezed his hand, then pulled away to swipe the screen on her phone. He stopped her by pressing the keys to his Camaro into her palm. Her lashes lifted, green eyes wide.

  When she began to shake her head no, he insisted, “Yes. I’ll get a ride home from Merit.”

  “I am not taking your car.”

  “You said you wanted to drive it.”

  “Not like this.” She tried to give the keys back. “Not without you.”

  “I trust you, Honor. And I’ll feel much better having you drive the Camaro home than riding with a stranger.” They had a long moment of silent standoff before she finally gave in. Asher gave a subdued smile in victory. “The garage door opener is in the glove box, and then all you have to do is lock the service door on your way out.”

  “I’ll be very careful with it,” she promised.

  “As long as you get home safe, that’s all that matters.” He walked her around to the open driver’s side door.

  Instead of getting in, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist while pressing her cheek to his chest. He automatically closed his arms around her, and then tightened his hold when her warmth seeped in to calm the rough edges of his frayed nerves.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” she said. “Pizza and beer, a piece of cake, a shoulder to lean on…”

  Emotion swelled again and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I will. Thank you.”

  Up on the porch, Merit stood to give him a dark glare while he jerked his head toward the house.

  He reluctantly released Honor so she could slide into the driver’s seat. As soon as the door closed, he motioned for her to roll down the window, then leaned in to give her a quick kiss that lingered.

  He eased back a few inches to meet her gaze, and she laid her palm against his cheek. “I mean it, Asher. It doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night or twelve noon.”

  After a single nod, he pressed one last kiss to her lips, then straightened and stepped back while sliding his hands into his pockets. �
�Send me a text when you’re home?”

  “I will.” She cut her somber gaze toward the house as she rolled up the window. “Good luck.”

  He nodded and forced a smile as she left, but when he turned to face the house, it vanished in a blink. He was definitely going to need that luck—and a drink.

  Chapter 22

  It was after three a.m. when Asher paid the cab driver and keyed his code into the lock box for the garage door. Merit had been in no shape to drive, not to mention, he’d had enough of his entire family for one night. The cab driver had been blessedly silent the entire ride, and he’d tipped the guy an extra ten.

  As the door cranked up, Asher surveyed Honor’s house across the street. Save for the porch light, the rest of her place was dark. Nothing like when she’d been up baking the other nights, or his house, where he’d noticed when the cab pulled up that she’d left the recessed lights in his kitchen on for his return.

  Disappointment darkened his mood more as he turned away, though he knew it was for the best. He’d be horrible company after finding out the fundamental beliefs drummed into him all his life were lies. Turned out Diamonds did divorce. They lied. They cheated. And his dad had a kid that no one fucking knew about for thirty-one gol-damn years.

  Betrayal came roaring back as he yanked open the door leading to the kitchen and then slammed it shut behind him. Directly on the heels of the loud boom he heard a surprised exclamation and saw a flash of movement from his shadowed living room.

  He stopped short when he recognized the figure sitting up on his couch, red hair spilling about her shoulders. The dim light from the kitchen barely lit her features.

  “Honor? What are you doing here?” Confusion creased his brow even as his heart thumped hard with the sheer pleasure of seeing her. Anger drained away fast, leaving him feeling raw and oddly exposed in a way he’d never experienced before.

  She hastily brushed her hair back from her face as she stood, then gestured toward his coffee table with a jerky motion. “I baked a cake. I was worried, and I couldn’t sleep, and I bake when I’m worked up, so I made it and brought it over. I thought I’d wait for you to make sure you were okay, and I fell asleep.”