The Baker's Beauty (The River Hill Series Book 3)

by Rebecca Norinne

  “Nothing’s set in stone—yet,” he reminded her. “I still need you to fly down to L.A. to audition. But I have a good feeling about this.” He raised his hands to tick off points in her favor on his fingers. “Unlike the other women auditioning, you know how to work a large audience and play to multiple cameras. And you’re not intimidated by the professional side of this business. You’ve got the knowledge and the blog followers to back it up. It’s one thing to know how to put on makeup; it’s an entirely other thing to understand that this is a multi-billion dollar industry run mostly by suits with white, wrinkled skin.”

  Jai was right, of course. She’d been a part of the beauty industry in one form or another since she could walk. She had decades worth of experience standing in front of those old, wrinkled white men in expensive suits. The same one whose literal jobs were to judge her. She would nail this audition.

  But that was only the first step on this grand adventure.

  “I just want to clarify that if I get the job, I won’t have to live in L.A.”

  Jai waved away her concern. “Not right away. The current plan is to tape three or four episodes in one day, and since this is an entirely new venture, there’s no guarantee it’s even going to take off. But the people who run RenoTV know a good idea when they see it, and they’re willing to jump in with both feet with The Beauty Network. They’ll work with you to make it work. But if this show takes off the way I think it will, this is only the first step in what I know is going to be an amazing career for you.” He beamed at her, and his confidence was contagious: she believed him.

  Which meant she heard the unspoken thought: she might not have to live in L.A. now, but she’d probably wind up moving there eventually.

  It wasn’t that she had anything against moving to Southern California, per se. It was just that she’d never really considered it before—mostly because everything she’d ever known and needed out of life was right here in the extended Bay Area. In fact, the longest she’d ever been away from her family was when she’d gone to Atlantic City to compete in the Junior Miss America competition and had then extended her trip to hang out in New York City for a few days afterward sightseeing and to shop for knock-offs in Chinatown.

  And then there’s Sean to think about, too, a tiny voice at the back of her head chimed in. Which was significantly more than Jess wanted to think about at the moment. Anytime she allowed her mind to drift to the handsome, confusing man, she became more and more confused about what was going on between them.

  He’d said he wanted more time, only to turn around a couple of hours later and practically beg to see her again. He’d never explained his change of heart, and Jess hadn’t pushed him to. The entire weekend they’d spent together, she kept telling herself to ask him why, but every time she worked up the courage to do so, it was as if he could sense the impending inquisition and would kiss her senseless instead. There was no other way to describe it: he kissed her, and she lost her damn mind.

  The way he made her feel was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, and even though they had problems, Jess didn’t know if she was ready to give it all up—especially for a job she’d never considered as a viable career option. It wasn’t like being a TV star had been her dream or anything. This was just a stroke of good luck, not the culmination of a life-long ambition. But there was that saying about gift horses.

  One thing that was a life-long dream, however? To find the love of a good man and settle down and start a family. A real family, one that stayed together, like her grandparents. None of their children or grandchildren had managed it. It was a dream she’d never spoken aloud—never let herself want too hard or too much—but if she and Sean could iron out their issues, she honestly believed they stood a chance at true happiness. Maybe that was naive, given their start, but where this man was concerned, she was willing to believe in something other than the cold, hard facts. Because if she stopped to think about those, she might turn her back on him, and the chance for love.

  But she was getting ahead of herself.

  In the first place, there was no guarantee she’d be named the host of the show The Beauty Network was launching. And as Jai had just said, this was a very new venture. It could all go belly up tomorrow. And thirdly, Sean had to fall in love with her, too. And Jess knew they were a long way from that ever happening.

  Bringing her thoughts back to the here and now, Jai pushed back from the table, his chair scraping across the tile of Angelica’s kitchen floor. Jess stood to join him, and he reached across the table, his hand outstretched. “It was great meeting you in person, Jess. I hope this is the beginning of a long, profitable relationship.” He winked, and she couldn’t help the smile his remark brought forth.

  “Likewise, Jai. I’ll let you know when my flight is booked.”

  Jess stretched out on her sofa, her phone at her ear. “Hey, you.”

  Sean had texted her a couple of minutes after she’d walked in her front door following her meeting with Jai, wanting to know if she had any plans that night. Instead of texting him back, she’d decided to call him to invite him over so she could share her good news about the audition in person. They’d been meeting for coffee the past few days at The Hollow Bean, but this was something she wanted to discuss in private. She could envision them sitting at her kitchen table, him pausing between bites of her vegetable lasagna to congratulate her and tell her how amazing she was. If he came around the table to kiss her and then carried her off to her bedroom for a round of celebratory sex, all the better.

  “Hey,” he answered, and Jess didn’t think she was fooling herself when she heard the smile in his voice. “I missed you today.”

  “Oh really?” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and then let it uncoil. “Tell me more.”

  “I was licking cinnamon sugar off my fingers at the end of my shift, and all I could think was that it wasn’t as sweet as you.”

  Jess shivered, remembering the last time he’d licked her and feeling her insides tighten with anticipation. “Mmm,” she breathed. “You don’t taste so bad yourself.”

  And she wasn’t just saying that either. Giving head had never been something she’d particularly enjoyed or excelled at, but the first time she’d taken Sean into her mouth, something had clicked into place, and she’d understood why some women loved giving blowjobs. She relished the way he felt on her tongue, his spicy scent filling her nose as she worked him over with her lips and tongue. He’d given her plenty of warning before he came, and while she could have finished him off with her hand, she’d wanted to drink his orgasm down the same way he’d done to her.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “Much as I enjoy thinking about making you come with my mouth and vice versa, we need to change the subject. I’m having dinner with my mom, and I don’t want to walk into her kitchen sporting a raging boner.”

  Damn. She’d been looking forward to that celebratory sex too. Between her news and their flirty banter, she was all keyed up and ready to go. “Oh, well. I was going to invite you over to celebrate—naked, if you get my drift—but since you have other plans, I’ll just have to rely on B.O.B.”

  “Bob?” he asked, his voice tight.

  Jess sighed dreamily for added effect. “Until you, no one could make me come quite like B.O.B.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jess. I don’t talk about—”

  Immediately, her mood sobered. She’d thought they were teasing, but it was apparent he didn’t get the joke. “Hey. I’m just teasing. I wouldn’t—”

  “Teasing me about some other dude—”

  This was just out of control now. “Sean, B.O.B. is my vibrator,” she interrupted before he could fling some unfounded accusation her way. “You know, a Battery Operated Boyfriend?”

  A few beats passed in silence while she listened to him breathe on the other end of the line. And then he chuckled. “Christ, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  She chewed on her lip with min
gled annoyance and worry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “But you were.” It wasn’t a question. The restrained fury in his voice had come through the line loud and clear. They might be keeping secrets from one other, but she needed him to understand that even though she didn’t know everything about him—about what was going on in that complicated head of his—she knew him. He’d been upset by the idea of her having been with anyone but him. It was an antiquated, sexist notion that alternately made her bristle with indignation and warm with delight. She’d never had a man get jealous before. It wasn’t something she wanted to encourage, but a small part of her preened with satisfaction that someone as handsome as Sean Amory might feel something close to anger at the idea of shy, quiet Jessica Casillas-Moore being a little bit of a sex kitten.

  “Okay, I was.”

  There it was again, that tiny spark of delight.

  “Trust me, Sean. You have nothing to be jealous about. I wasn’t lying when I told you—”

  “I know, Jess. I just … never mind.”

  “No, tell me.” Jess sat up and pulled a blanket over her lap. So many of their conversations were light, frivolous things. She yearned for him to open up to her, to share his thoughts and feelings—even if they were about something as unwelcome as their previous lovers. “You just what?”

  He sighed, and she could picture him running his hand through his hair, a tic she was coming to learn signaled when he felt overwhelmed or uncomfortable. “I sometimes wonder why you haven’t told me to go fuck myself already. You had the perfect chance to on Friday, but you welcomed me back into your life with open arms and a warm smile. Any guy would be lucky to have you, but for some reason, you’re wasting your time with me.”

  Her heart broke for him. Someday, she’d find out why he seemed to hate himself so much. Something had broken Sean Amory, and while Jess didn’t think she could fix him long term, she hoped her love would act as the glue that would bind the fragmented pieces of his heart and soul back together in those moments when he felt like breaking apart all over again.

  “Don’t you think it’s up to me to decide who’s worth my time?” she asked, her tone gentle. She didn’t care how many times or how many ways she had to say it, some way, somehow, she’d prove to him that she was strong enough to weather the storm. Not for him, but rather, with him.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, while not really agreeing.

  She got the impression he was placating her, and that made her angry. If they were going to work, he had to let her in. He had to hear her and believe her when she said she wanted to stand by his side.

  But that wasn’t a conversation to have on the phone.

  “What are you doing this weekend?”

  He sighed, a world-weary sound if ever there were one. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  Which meant he hadn’t thought about spending it with her. No matter; she’d make him think about it, even if she had to drag him kicking and screaming. She recounted her conversation with Jai, her voice becoming more and more animated the longer she went on. “So I have to fly down to L.A. on Friday morning for the audition. Come with me.”

  Jess waited for his reply. And waited. And then waited some more.

  “Sean?”

  He swallowed deeply, the sound of his throat bobbing reaching her ears. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” His voice cracked on the last word.

  Pain lanced at her heart at the intensity of his response. He was shutting her out again. Shutting down.

  To hell with that.

  “Why?” she demanded, her anger rising. She’d been so understanding, so … nice. It was time to call forth a bit of that Casillas fire her siblings were best known for. Jess was tired of being accommodating, of putting other people’s wants and needs before her own. Of trying to always be liked. She cared about Sean, but she deserved better than the hot and cold he kept giving her. She deserved an explanation, and she was damn sure going to get one.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Tough,” she shot back as she rose to her feet. Pacing the length of her living room, she continued, “If I’m good enough to fuck seven ways to Sunday, I’m good enough to be told why you keep shutting me out.”

  “It’s not you, Jess. It’s me.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, try again, Sean. I may have bought that the first time, but not again.”

  “I just can’t go to L.A. Okay?”

  Jess breathed deeply and let it out in one long, slow gust. “No, it’s not okay.” And then she hung up on him.

  Chapter 17

  Sean stared at the phone. It was shaking. No, that was his hand. She’d asked him to go to L.A. She’d asked him, and he’d said no, and then she’d hung up on him.

  No, that wasn’t how it had gone. Sean shook his head. He wasn’t being fair to Jess. What else is new? She had no idea why he couldn’t go to L.A. He still hadn’t told her anything about his past. He could tell she’d been so excited about this new opportunity—and when had Angelica hooked Jess up with her agent, anyway?—and he’d been unsupportive, to say the least. He scrubbed his hand over his face. Should he call her back? Apologize? Explain?

  The problem was, he wasn’t sure he had the capacity to sit there and describe what had happened, explain what he’d done and not done, how he’d failed his protégé. He tried to picture himself going to L.A. with her, stepping off the plane into the familiar airport, driving through the streets he’d driven a thousand times before. He felt the stirrings of nausea rise in his throat. He leaned his head against the steering wheel and banged it softly against the hard surface. Get it together, Amory.

  A gentle tapping on the truck’s window made him lift his head. His mother stood in the driveway, watching him with an inquiring expression. He sighed and opened the door.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked as he got out.

  I don’t want to talk about it. His earlier comment to Jess came back to him, and he scowled. “No.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “I see.”

  Shit. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. “Sorry.”

  Sean followed his mom into the house, where they sat down to dinner and managed to talk about nothing of substance for the next two hours. Apparently, she was back to waiting him out. Twice, he was on the verge of opening his mouth to tell her that Jess had invited him to L.A. and ask how he should be feeling. That’s when he’d remember he hadn’t told her about Jess at all, and the idea of explaining everything on top of revealing the heavy weight of terror that seemed to settle over him every time he considered stepping off the plane in Los Angeles was just … too much.

  Too much to blurt out over dinner, even over his mother’s pork tenderloin with roasted apples. She’d made it especially for him, he knew. And guilt gnawed at him that he wasn’t appreciative enough, grateful enough. She’d always been here for him, no matter what. And he couldn’t even bring himself to tell her that he had a girlfriend.

  Of course, he might not have that anymore, either. Jess had been pretty angry. Rightfully so. Before he lost his girlfriend and mother in one fell swoop, he made a concerted effort. “This is delicious. Thanks for inviting me.”

  His mother smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

  He managed a smile in return. “You know I like it. It’s been my favorite since I was ten.”

  “Why mess with a sure thing?”

  Why, indeed. He’d done nothing but mess with sure things lately. “Maybe you can teach me to make it sometime.”

  He’d caught her by surprise, and he wished he could relish the moment. “You’ve never asked to learn anything but baking.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been thinking I ought to know how to do more than heat up leftovers.” He summoned his best impression of his smooth-charmer smile for her.

  “I taught you more than that in high school,” she pointed out.

  “Sure, but not the good stuff.” He waved a
forkful of pork at her. “Why were you holding out on me?”

  Her rich laughter filled the air, and he relaxed a little bit. “Holding out! Sean Amory, it was like pulling teeth to get you to do anything in the kitchen that wasn’t baking.”

  “See, now I’m older and wiser, and I realize that a man can’t live on scones alone.”

  “Why the sudden interest in cooking real food?”

  “Hunger?” he improvised.

  “Nice try.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll assume it’s either a girl or a tapeworm.”

  “Definitely tapeworm,” he teased.

  She chuckled. “I’ll teach you and your tapeworm any recipes you want.”

  “Are any of them in the cookbooks?” He nodded his head toward the other room, where the precious Amory Recipes resided.

  She shook her head. “All baking, all the time, your ancestors.” She paused. “There might be a couple of recipes for savory tartlets and quiches, but that’s about it.”

  “I love quiche.”

  “We can make one together on your next day off if you’d like. Maybe you can take it somewhere to impress your … tapeworm.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, but she just grinned at him.

  Later, back in his apartment, he slumped down into the old, lumpy office chair at his desk with a sigh and flipped open his laptop. Checking email was the only activity he had left in him at this point. He’d spent the entire evening pretending like nothing was wrong, and now he was exhausted.

  He clicked through sale notifications from stores he hadn’t shopped at in years, spam emails about everything from class reunions to penis enlargers and found his cursor hovering over the last unopened email in his inbox.

  From: gil@unitedmedia.net

  To: sean.amory@gmail.com

  Subj: Your Appearance on ‘Died Too Soon’

  Hello, Mr. Amory,

  My name is Gil Cartwright, and I’m a producer with United Media. Among other projects, we produce a series you may have seen on either HistoryNet or the Music Channel called ‘Died Too Soon.’ This documentary-style series comprises hour-long episodes featuring an in-depth exploration of a celebrity who passed away at an early age. We’re beginning production next Friday on our episode about the time period surrounding Cal Grissom’s death, and as one of his close friends and colleagues, we’d be grateful for you to appear and consent to an on-camera interview to tell your story.