Seducing the Baker (At First Sight)

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Seducing the Baker (At First Sight) Page 5

by Janet Lane-Walters


  He started the Jeep. Seeing Grace had resurrected dreams of the past and of the day she’d turned him down. He held no pride for his actions. Her response to his kiss had surprised him both then and last night. Years ago he’d seen her as someone who could fill the emptiness of his life. Those feelings remained. Though he had gained most of his desires he wanted more.

  When he pulled the Jeep into the driveway of Tony’s house he sat and cleared his thoughts. There would be questions. He needed a way to finesse without naming Grace and changing his friends’ opinion of her.

  He strode up the walk and opened the door. Lauren stood in the foyer. “The lost returns. Is Grace all right?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Did you hurt her?”

  “No.”

  Lauren grinned. “She blew you off.”

  He swallowed. “In a way.”

  “So your charm failed.”

  Jules hung his coat in the closet. “I took her home.”

  “If you hurt her I’ll be unhappy.”

  Jules glared. “I’m not in the habit of hurting people. I will say you were right about her tires.”

  “You took her home and then what?”

  “You’re not her mother or mine.” Jules walked past her. “I should have called to say I wouldn’t be back.”

  “There were a lot of accidents last night.” She entered the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  Tony handed him a plate. “He always says that. Manages to put enough away for two men and never gains an ounce.”

  “I work out. Exercise is good.”

  Tony removed lids on the warming section of the center island. “I won’t ask what kind of exercise. Ham, scrambled eggs, hash browns.”

  Jules heaped a plate and filled a glass with orange juice and a mug with coffee. He sat beside Tony. “Ran into an old friend. Talked and crashed.” Would the bare facts fend off more questions?

  Tony arched a brow. “Do we know her?”

  “How would I know? Could be she was a he. Remember I grew up here before I ended in the group home.”

  “Forgot,” Tony said.

  Lauren made a face. “I doubt you would want to connect with anyone from the group home other than Grace or me.”

  Jules lifted a fork. “People change.”

  “I have. So have you.” She raised her head. “I hope you didn’t run into Charlene Paton and accept her idea of hospitality.”

  Jules nearly choked. “Trying to kill me. Rather run into a piranha. No taste for her years ago or today.”

  Lauren rested her fork on the plate. “She was one of the reasons I hit the road. Her fingers stuck to anything she wanted. Her parents always believed her lies. She used to tease Grace about being a good girl.”

  “I always wondered why Grace avoided guys. I know a dozen at high school including me who liked her.”

  Lauren propped her elbows on the table. “Her mother made her childhood horrible. Drugs, alcohol, sex. Wasn’t a good life for a child. Sometimes her mother abused her.”

  Jules straightened. Had any of the men visiting her mother hurt Grace? Might explain some puzzling things. Why had she trusted him when she surrendered to his kisses?

  Tony spread jam on a piece of toast. The intercom sputtered. Jamie’s cries filled the air. Tony rose. “My turn.”

  Lauren caught Jules’ gaze. “So you liked Grace. She used to talk about you. Then one day she stopped.”

  “I’m sure she did. Let’s say I acted like a jackass.”

  “Really. I thought she shut up became of Charlene who bragged about having sex with you.”

  Jules rolled his eyes. “Definitely a lie. No way would I have gone near her. She was after every male in town. She hit on me and I walked away.” He clamped his lips in a tight line.

  “She hasn’t changed.”

  Jules drained his juice. “Enough about that time and place.”

  Lauren laughed. “Sure you don’t want to go to the theater.”

  “Lauren, we need you.” Tony’s voice boomed from the speaker.

  “Guess there’s a mess to handle. Have Tony tell you about his first experience with one.” She paused. “What do you want for dinner? Sitter comes at six.”

  “I’m having dinner with Grace to explain the Good Eatin’ contract. If I don’t convince her to sign I’ll have to face Allie Sunday morning.”

  “Enjoy.” Lauren dashed away.

  Moments later Jules headed to the guest room. He changed clothes, grabbed underwear, sweater, jeans and condoms. Downstairs he folded them into his briefcase. When Lauren and Tony arrived with Jamie, Jules stood at the counter loading the dishwasher.

  While Lauren fed Jamie, Jules and Tony cleaned the kitchen. She left for school. Tony and Jules amused Jamie until the football game between their colleges began. The final play of the game found Jules handing Tony a twenty. He hoped losing the bet wasn’t an omen for the evening with Grace.

  He rose. “See you later.”

  “Do you still have the key and the code?”

  “Yes.”

  “If the sitter’s here introduce yourself.”

  “Hope to be a bit later,” Jules said.

  “Good luck.”

  “I’ll need all you can give me and more.” Jules shrugged into his coat and grabbed his briefcase.

  * * *

  Grace wiped sweat from her forehead with a wet paper towel. She’d finished the final batch of cupcakes an hour ago. She sprayed the oven and set trays of finished cupcakes in the industrial freezer. Once she finished the oven she would mot the floor. As she worked she hummed a random series of notes. At five thirty she emptied the mop water in the utility room and entered the shop to collect the accumulated cash and charge slips.

  Bonnie pointed to the nearly empty cases. “Been a good day. Oh, Joe from the diner wants to increase his daily order from one dozen to two at the usual price.”

  Grace frowned. “When did he start an account?” There were several restaurants who ordered cupcakes every week. The diner wasn’t one.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll look into this on Monday.”

  “Is Mr. Hottie coming this evening?”

  Grace nodded. “We’re going out to dinner and discuss that Good Eatin’ thing.” That really wasn’t the reason. Jules had explained the terms last night. If Tony thought the article would be good for the business she would sign.

  One thing bothered her. Could she trust Jules? Last night she’d agreed with his view of the contract. She had slept with him and done things she had only imagined. Things she wanted to repeat and feel the shocking sensations again.

  She carried the case, credit card slips and checks to the office where she opened the computer. She counted and entered the totals and then prepared the bag for the bank deposit.

  The bell above the shop door jangled loud enough for her to hear. Charlene’s nasal twang and two lighter voices called greetings. Moments later the bleached blonde started screaming. Grace hurried into the front.

  Two girls from the group home sat at a table. Charlene’s son was with them. His shaggy blond hair inched below his cap.

  Grace checked the hot chocolate pot, filled a cup and placed the beverage on the table in front of the boy. She turned to the girls. “There’s more if you want to finish the pot.”

  “Thanks.”

  Charlene strode to Grace and stabbed a blood-red fingernail into Grace’s chest. “Is eight all you have?”

  Bonnie stepped from behind the case. She held a box in her hand. “Busy day.” She returned to her station and stacked the empty trays on the glass case.

  Charlene grabbed Grace’s arm. “Go to the back. I need twelve more and make them the special ones. Mama wouldn’t be happy with just eight.”

  “I can’t give you more,” Grace said. “No new stock until Monday.”

  “Mama’s gonna be disappointed. You owe her big time for all she’s done for you
. If she didn’t teach you how to cook you would never got that scholarship to the fancy cooking school. Mama should be your partner.”

  Grace clenched her hands. By showing skill and knowledge she had earned the scholarship. “Sorry. The kitchen is closed, cleaned and locked. I’ll explain tomorrow when I stop by to help with Sunday dinner.”

  “Don’t bother making excuses. Tomorrow will be too late.” Charlene stalked away.

  “Yell her I can’t stay all day. I’ve a business meeting with Lauren about a cupcake tower for her wedding rather than a cake.”

  Charlene glared. “She ran away, lived on the streets doing who knows what and snags a rich man. I could have found my own but with a baby in my belly I was trapped. Some people have all the luck.”

  Grace drew a deep breath. Things she wanted to say flashed in her thoughts. Lauren had run away. Charlene had been part of the reason. Her “borrowing” clothes, jewelry and money plus her catty remarks had driven Lauren to run. Once she found her sister Lauren had worked hard to change her life.

  The bell jingled. Jules stepped inside. Grace waited for Charlene to spring into action.

  The bleached blonde’s eyes narrowed. She studied Jules from head to toe. She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “You’re too late, handsome. I have the last of the cupcakes.” She tapped the box she held and waved to her son and the girls. “Move it.” She sauntered to the door. Her tight jeans emphasized the sway of her hips.

  The door closed. Grace released a held breath. She glanced at Jules. She couldn’t believe Charlene hadn’t recognized him. What did the other woman plan?

  The story Charlene had whispered late one night flowed into Grace’s thoughts. Could Jules be the father of Charlene’s son? There’s been no resemblance she could see. Years ago Charlene had been a liar even when the truth could benefit her.

  Bonnie lifted the cups and bagged the garbage. She carried the three hot water pots to the utility room. “I’ll finish cleaning and lock up. You can make the bank run.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I wonder if Charlene’s anger over there only being eight cupcakes has anything to do with the call from Joe at the dinner. You give her at least a dozen every night.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Selling the extras would be easy money for her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jules asked.

  Grace explained about the call from the owner of the diner. “He doesn’t have an account. I think he called the wrong bakery. We’re not the only one in the area.”

  “Either scenario could be right,” Jules said. “Another bakery could have used your name.”

  “I’ll handle this next week.” She went to the office for the deposit bag. “Let’s go.”

  Jules helped her with her coat. He held the door.

  Grace turned. “Thanks, Bonnie.”

  “No problem. Have fun.”

  “Where are we going?” Grace asked. “Should I go home and change?”

  “Might be a good idea.”

  “Why so mysterious?”

  “You’ll see.” His dimple appeared.

  After dumping the deposit she turned to him. “I need to take the van. Tomorrow I help out at the group home. You could come with me.”

  “Not on your life. “I’ll follow you to the condo.”

  At the van he waited until she started the engine. As she drove home she wondered where they would have dinner. She pulled into the garage and left the door open for him.

  * * *

  Jules waited until Grace ran upstairs to change before carrying the pair of Styrofoam containers, a blanket and the bag with the wine and glasses into the unit. He heard the shower. Flashes of her naked body lured him to the foot of the stairs. His hands itched to cup her breasts. A groan rolled from his chest. His throbbing cock urged him to climb the stairs and invade her space.

  Patience, dude.

  With reluctance he studied the living room area. He walked to the wide sliding door and found a stack of wood covered with dark plastic. After carrying in an armload he started a fire and spread the blanket in front of the hearth. He knelt on the carpet to open the container and place the dozen cold and dozen hot appetizers, the wine and the glasses on the newly created picnic place.

  When he heard Grace on the stairs he walked to the foot to intercept her. She paused on the landing. He caught his breath. His heart felt ready to explode. A bright blue dress hugged her curves. The side slits revealed the long line of her legs. She reached the bottom step. Jules grasped her hands and kissed the fingers of one and then the other. His erection pulsed.

  “You are beautiful.” The heels she wore added enough height for their lips to meet. The scent of vanilla wafted from her skin. The kiss rocked him. He felt a need beyond the desire for sexual satisfaction. What was happening here?

  “Where are we going?” She ran her hands down her dress. “I hope this is all right.”

  “You’re perfect.” He led her around the corner where firelight revealed the scene he’d set. “A winter picnic catered by Five Cuisines.” He crossed to the blanket, sat and patted the space beside him.

  “I’ve heard their food is wonderful.”

  “Do you mind staying here?”

  She shook her head. “The food looks and smells wonderful.” She sat beside him.

  He kissed her hand and ran his tongue over the palm. “If we’d gone to a restaurant there might have been a fight for your attention, I wanted this evening for us.” He rested his hand on the silky fabric of her dress. He caressed her thigh.

  Grace caught his hand. “Not so fast. I’d like to taste some of the food. We were so busy today I had no lunch.”

  “What’s under your dress?”

  “My skin.” She grinned.

  A jolt shot to his cock. He leaned forward and feasted on her mouth. She melted against him. Finally he raised his head. “Sure you want food?”

  “Yes.” She slid away.

  He lifted a curried shrimp and held the morsel to her lips. She bit and chewed. “Delicious.” From another container she held an oyster. ‘Not that you need this.”

  He laughed. “True.” He sucked the morsel into his mouth. “A taste of the sea and the bite of cayenne.” He reached for the wine. “I hope you like rose.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t drink.”

  “Why not?”

  Sadness filled her eyes. “My mother did. Men paid her for sex with booze and drugs.”

  He recalled Lauren’s remarks about Grace’s children. “Tell me.”

  “Men came. They seldom stayed for more than an hour or two. I hid in the closet so I couldn’t see what they did. I couldn’t escape the sounds, the smells or the arguments and beatings.”

  Jules hugged her. “No life for a child.” There’s been no violence in his early years. Guilt and shame came later.

  She drew back. “Every night I prayed for an escape. When the men left she yelled at me. Sometimes she hit me. When I was eight she died from drinking and drugs. She was twenty-eight.”

  Tears spilled over her cheeks. Jules set the wine aside. He kissed her lightly and wiped her tears. He rose and filled the wine glasses with water.

  “You don’t have to forgo wine.”

  “I want to.” When they made love he wanted them to have equal control. He brought their joined hands to his mouth. “My mother couldn’t live with what my father had done and what other people said. She killed herself.”

  Grace squeezed his hand. “Something we share.”

  Jules recalled the day he’d arrived from school and the dramatic note his mother had written. Her pain, her shame and her anger slashed words across the paper. She’d never mentioned her son.

  “What about your father?” he asked.

  “I never knew him. He was one of her men.”

  Jules cupped her chin. “I thought I knew my father but I didn’t. He was a crook. Two weeks after my mother’s death he had a heart attack and I
was alone.”

  “No relatives either?” Grace asked.

  “Distant cousins who refused to take me in. Guess they thought my presence would contaminate them. During the past year they’ve called but I ignore them.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her. A tight band gripped his chest. He didn’t know what drew him to her but he intended to ride the wave to the crest.

  Grace reached for a tapa and offered him a bite. He drew her fingers inside. Soon they fed each other laughing as they shared a long strip of crab seasoned with garlic butter. They nibbled until their mouths met.

  For a time they concentrated on eating. Grace pushed the dishes away. “I can’t eat another bite. Why did you buy so much?”

  “Greed. Everything sounded and looked so good. I kept ordering one more appetizer. We’ve done a good job of demolishing the lot. I usually don’t indulge like this.”

  She rose and began gathering the empty plates. “I do. A holdover from my childhood. There were days when I had little so sometimes I eat too much.” She carried empty containers to the small kitchen.

  Jules rose and gathered the uneaten items. “We’ll save these for a snack later.”

  She laughed. “Good thought. I’m glad I baked ahead. I won’t have much to do tomorrow but today was great.”

  “I saw the empty cases.”

  Her face colored. “Customers galore. Holiday orders, too. The week before Christmas I’ll be baking non-stop.”

  “And you love the idea.”

  She nodded. “I’m making some money and the bills are current. There’s even a small salary.”

  He ran a finger along her arm. “Do me a favor.”

  “And that is?”

  “Monday morning buy tires for the van.”

  “If I have time.”

  He grasped her shoulders. “I don’t like worrying about your safety.”

  She collected the rest of the leftovers. “Stand in line behind Lauren. She lectures me daily about the tires.” She opened the refrigerator and stored cartons. “There’s enough left for several meals. Do me a favor. Visit the shop on Monday. I could use a customer who overbuys.”

  “Unfortunately I’ll be at work.”

 

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