Sweet Bliss

by Helena Rac

  “Sure, just get me the usual.”

  I head out to one of our favorite lunch spots and grab two chicken wraps and two strawberry-banana milkshakes. When I’m almost back at the bakery, my phone buzzes. A text from Rose.

  Make it an hour.

  Huh? I text her, confused.

  Extend your lunch break, she texts back.

  What?

  Abort the return!

  Why? I text back.

  Code red! Certain someone is on his way out of the bakery. NOW!

  Oh shit. I am three doors away from Lovely Cakes. I realize I failed to make a contingency plan for a face-to-face run-in with Luke. How did I not think of that? I scan my surroundings and scramble to figure out what to do. If I move forward, I’ll run into him. So much for avoidance. If I move fast enough the other way, I may be able to lose him in the crowd. Maybe if I cross the street there will be enough separation to give me an advantage in case he decides to follow. My thinking is interrupted by a familiar voice yelling out, “Tessa?”

  My head turns in the direction of the voice and our eyes lock. For a moment we hold onto the connection, and that strange, undefined something passes between us. I’m at a loss momentarily, because even though my head is resolute, my body responds with a need that I can’t seem to control. I’m sixteen all over again and finding myself worked up from a simple glimpse of Luke.

  “Wait!” I make out the movement of his mouth and hear him yell the word at the same time.

  The call’s enough of a reminder of my current predicament. I am so not waiting. Instead, I avert my gaze and break our exchange.

  Shit. Why did I take the time to analyze the options? Note to self: Some situations require acting on impulse. And this is definitely one of those situations requiring reaction, not analysis.

  I start jogging in the opposite direction. I’m holding on to the tray of milkshakes for dear life – the last thing I need is another Clumsy Tessa moment. My mind is racing. My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m a runner, but the adrenaline involved with this run is at a totally different level. This run is thrilling, adventurous. Kind of fun, actually.

  What? Snap out of it, Conte! Right. We’re one-for-one. Deal with it, Callaghan!

  I take the next left because I know there’s a coffee shop just around the corner. When I get inside, I make my way straight to the washroom. Not leaving this to chance, I actually go as far as locking myself in a stall, just in case Luke is intuitive enough (I wouldn’t be surprised) and decides to burst in through the door clearly marked WOMEN. And so I sit on the toilet, wait, and think. Really, Tessa? Hiding in the washroom? I burst out laughing. This is ridiculous. Still, I’m beyond thankful to have a great employee-slash-friend in Rose.

  I take a moment to text her back.

  Disaster averted. Thanks for saving my ass.

  What are friends for?

  She definitely earns cupcake points for the warning. And a day off too.

  It’s almost eight when I get home after what’s turned out to be a really busy Saturday, which is not surprising given that it’s July, a prime time for all sorts of celebrations. As I make my way down the hallway that leads to my door, I notice a gift bag hanging off the door handle. Attached to the bag – which contains a box of chocolate truffles, incidentally – is a card that reads “Truce?”

  Did he break into my building? Jesus! I’m beginning to think his persistence borders on stalking. Also, I need to talk to Clara and Marcus about sharing my personal information. This has got to stop.

  For a moment, I actually consider what he’s asking. Truce? Maybe. But that’s all I’m willing to give him. Perhaps I should stop acting like a child and not be so apprehensive about facing him again. No running away, no hiding in washroom stalls. After all, I’m a strong, independent woman. I can take care of myself. I can make rational decisions. Going out on a date with Luke is not rational. That’s that.

  I decide I’m not going to dwell on this anymore tonight. I’m tired and ready for bed. Not even a romance novel will keep me up right now. Except maybe I’ll just take a moment to taste one of the truffles. I pop one in my mouth and god, it’s so heavenly I whimper a little bit. This calls for seconds.

  After my bedtime routine, I cozy up in bed and am nearly ready to visit dreamland when my phone buzzes. I snatch it off the nightstand and with one scroll see a by now familiar number.

  Sweet dreams, cupcake.

  I don’t respond, but I can’t help smiling as I drift off to sleep, thinking of Luke and cupcakes and all things sweet and dreamy.

  Chapter 7

  I made it through Saturday with determination. Luke may be persistent and border-line stalkerish, but I’m resolute. I’m hoping he’ll realize I have no interest in going out with him. I’m hoping he’ll conclude it’s futile to try to win me over. He’s only here for a few days leading up to the wedding, and then he’ll be back in London. What would be the point anyway?

  But it appears Luke and I don’t see eye to eye on this topic. I’m just about to head out for my morning run when an incoming text startles me.

  It’s a new day. Go out with me. Please.

  I give it a moment’s thought. But alas, just as it did last night, logic prevails.

  Not in this lifetime.

  We’ll see.

  Whatever. I have an urge to respond with a snarky reply, but I don’t. Instead, I head out of my apartment and do what I enjoy every morning. I’m not going to let some guy take over my thoughts. Not going to happen.

  This morning’s run is kind of frustrating, though. I can’t shut off my brain like I normally do. Some annoyingly hot guy’s taken over not only my dreams, it appears, but also my thoughts. When I get back, the first thing I do is sit down and write a list. A list of pros and cons of saying yes to a certain someone’s offer. A list will help me keep things straight and stay strong in case there are any additional attempts by said someone at wooing me again. The flowers and chocolates were a nice touch, though.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say to Rose as I make my way to the front of the store carrying freshly baked cupcakes. I’m wearing my favorite pink apron, which has “Life is sweeter with a cupcake!” written across it. That’s my motto.

  As I put the cupcakes into the display case, I manage to get some strawberry icing on my index finger. I take a quick lick, savoring the sweetness, just as the front door chimes.

  “Hey there, cupcake.” I hear a deep voice, the one I could recognize in my sleep.

  I look up and freeze at the sight of two familiar eyes locked on me and my finger-licking mouth. Oh god, he’s here, in my little slice of heaven. And then my heart kicks in, feeling like it’s ready to jump right out of my chest. Not surprisingly, the insta-lust kicks in too. Especially since I’ve seen his you-know-what.

  An image flashes in my head and I feel my body respond. And all he’s done is said three words. Three words. I hate the fact I have so little self-control around him. Mentally I give myself a pep talk: He is not at all intimidating. I can do this. I can face him and not think of him in any way as delicious, sexy, hard… Snap out of it, Conte.

  “Hi,” I whisper, then gather the composure that was apparently taking a break. “What are you doing here?”

  “You are one hard woman to convince. I figured an in-person visit may be my best bet. Though even that has proven to be harder than I thought.” I smile briefly because obviously he was here yesterday and he’s stopped by my apartment too, yet I’ve been able to evade him on both occasions. But I pull it back before it becomes a full-on grin. Self-control with guys like this is an absolute must.

  “Try me,” I challenge. I am so not going out with him. The list I made this morning flashes in my mind, the con side loaded with emphatic exclamation marks and heavily underlined warnings. I’m armed and ready.

  Luke takes a moment, as if he’s collecting his thoughts. It’s kind of cute seeing him mentally struggle with his choice of words, when he normally just say
s what he thinks.

  “Listen, I know you think I’m a prick for doing what I did.”

  I interrupt before he’s able to say another word. “I don’t think it. You are.” Point: Tessa.

  “Right, right.” He sighs. I think he realizes I’m not going to make this easy on him. “I know I’m a prick for doing what I did, for leaving without giving you any kind of explanation.”

  “I’m all ears.” My arms are crossed and my expression is stoic. On the surface, at least.

  “I’m sorry for how I left things. I’m sorry I didn’t have the guts to explain, but I didn’t really have a choice.”

  He’ll have to try harder than this. “No,” I interrupt again, “you did. You just didn’t make the right one.”

  “It’s just… What was I supposed to do? Call you and say, ‘Hey Tessa, I’m sorry I left without saying a word after we fooled around. But you know, it was all in good fun. No hard feelings, right?’ That would have made me sound like an ass.”

  “That is not helping you make your case.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But it’s not like I didn’t try.”

  “Try what?” I’m confused.

  “Seeing you again. When I came back around New Year’s, hoping that I would see you, in person,” he makes a point as if to emphasize he didn’t want to talk to me any other way, “your sister was kind enough to mention that you were away somewhere warm and sunny.”

  Oh, right. The time I actually decided to take a week off and spend New Year’s in Costa Rica. I may have been under the influence of the guy who’s standing in front of me and his outlook on life. So I decided to take an actual vacation and travel somewhere new and exciting. Unfortunate timing. Clara never mentioned anything either. He must have asked very inconspicuously for her curious mind not to catch on.

  “It’s been eating at me, how I left things that night. Trust me, I wanted to set things straight, but it just never worked out. I really am sorry for what I did, for how things played out, but I couldn’t help it. Your scent, your lips, your body… God, everything about you that night was so tempting, so difficult to resist. Everything about you still is. I’ve fantasized about you before, but nothing even came close to what you did at the club. Something about you just does things to me.”

  He looks down, like he’s unsure of himself, of how I’ll react to his confession. That is not the Luke I remember. This little glimpse of vulnerability, combined with the feelings he’s just spelled out, is kind of … hot. The fact that he fantasized about me – even hotter.

  He’s genuinely trying to apologize. Isn’t that all I wanted from him in the first place? I’ve known for a while now that he’s in London. I also know I’m probably not being entirely fair to him. I just didn’t want him to be that guy, the guy who fools around and then makes a clean getaway. A player. We’d made such a connection – in the car, during dinner, and, well, after – that I guess I’d foolishly thought he couldn’t possibly be that guy. I’d hoped he’d find a way to prove he wasn’t. I wanted to hear him say he’s sorry. But now that he has – now what?

  “If it’s any consolation, I’m here now, and life is sweeter seeing you again, Tessa. And don’t even try to deny that you don’t feel it too. I can see it in those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every time you look at me.”

  Look at that – the confident Luke is back. And just as hot.

  “I’m not sure what I’m feeling … yet.” I’m confused by my own emotions, my own thoughts. Is it anger? Lust? Infatuation? Fear?

  I’m pretty sure I’m past anger at this point. I realize that was kind of childish of me. I’m twenty-six, not sixteen. I’m also pretty sure that I’ve been craving Luke, even though I’ve tried very hard to suppress that notion. So, definitely lust and infatuation.

  I take a moment to glance over at him, and what I think I see is a hopeful look on his face. He really wants another chance. Can I give it to him? Is there any point? Am I ready to open myself up to the possibilities? Or am I just opening up a Pandora’s box of memories and emotions I don’t ever want to experience again?

  Definitely fear.

  Luke must see right through me. It’s like he senses my quandary, because he doesn’t let me delve a moment longer. “Can we just start over again, please? One date. That’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can decide if you want to see me again or if you’d rather send me packing. And I mean that in the most literal sense.”

  I’m well aware that he’ll be packing in just over a week. Whether or not I want him to. That’s exactly the problem.

  So of course it’s not surprising that I can almost hear my mind screaming, “For your own sake, Tessa, don’t go there!” Meanwhile, my panties are, well, panting, “Yes! Yes! Yesss!” This is quickly becoming a familiar and nerve-wracking pattern. I need a minute to process.

  His proposition is tempting. I know I said I wouldn’t cave – in fact, I have a whole list of reasons why saying yes to Luke is a bad idea. I remind myself of a few so that I can stay resolute: He exhibits player-like tendencies (though I do need to confirm my presumption). He messed with me once; he may do it again. He’s stubborn. He’s physically unavailable (he lives across the Atlantic, after all); emotionally too, perhaps. He’s too easy-going and too impulsive – I doubt he’s ever thought of making a list about anything. He doesn’t seem to think about the consequences of his actions, or at least that’s what I thought this morning.

  But I would be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge that I do feel something too. After all, the list did include some pros of saying yes to Luke. Several, actually. He’s kind of hot (okay, a lot hot). He’s educated. He’s adventurous. He’s fun to talk to, easy to listen to, and quite charming. He can really dance. He’s hot. (Yes, it was worth jotting down twice). He also has magic fingers – at least that’s how I remember them. Oh, and a giant cock that I seem to really enjoy (bonus). He smells yummy and loves cupcakes. Extra points for that. He did come looking for me, and he apologized. Genuinely apologized. Maybe he does have a conscience after all.

  Perhaps, in the spirit of fairness and as per my list, I should give him a chance. Without committing to too much. But I can’t come across as too eager. It would quash everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “Okay. Fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Fine, I’ll go out with you. One date. That’s all I’m committing to.”

  “I’ll take it.” He’s grinning. Like a smug I-knew-you-were-going-to-cave-eventually kind of grin.

  “That smirk looks too cocky,” I point out. “Better take it down a notch. You wouldn’t want to get your hopes up, now, would you?”

  “Oh, my hopes have been up for a while now. Can’t help it. I like when things work out my way.”

  “I said just one date, didn’t I?” I need to show him I control the outcome.

  “You did. But I don’t think you’ll be able to resist my charms.”

  “Pfft. Whatever.” But what I’m really thinking is, God, he’s so delicious. How will I ever say no to him again?

  “Maybe we can have dinner?”

  “Sure. When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Tonight?” I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  “Need I remind you I leave for London next Monday? Really working against the clock here.”

  “Right. Makes sense. Tonight it is, then.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six thirty?”

  “Sounds good. So…” I guess this is it? I don’t want him to leave just yet. Because he’s sort of pleasing to the eye. I scramble to find something else to say. Just think of him as a customer. “Is there anything else I can help you with today, seeing as I’ve already been more than helpful in responding to your needs?”

  He chuckles. I wonder if he finds me funny.

  “You most definitely can. I may have a soft spot for cupcakes. And icing. Kind of obsessed, actually,” he says with a crooked grin, his eyes never leaving mine, making my cheeks flush
. “Any suggestion on which one I should get?”

  I definitely have a suggestion. I point to the display case. “Strawberry chocolate is one of our bestsellers and my favorite.”

  “I think that may actually be just what I’m after.”

  “Great. One cupcake coming right up.” I lift one out, place it in a box, and seal it with one of our Lovely Cakes stickers. “Enjoy!” I say with a sweet smile as I hand over the package, my fingers trembling ever so slightly. Calm down. It’s just a date.

  “Oh, it’s not actually for me.” I give him a confused look. “I mean, it kind of is. Never mind. I’m sure, though, it will be enjoyed. Plenty.” He winks suggestively.

  My curiosity is piqued, and I wonder who the cupcake is for. He’s probably visiting an old friend, or maybe his grandma. I bet she’ll enjoy it. But I don’t want to pry, so I leave it at that.

  “Well, I guess I’d better make you pay. For the cupcake, that is.” I grin devilishly because, let’s face it, I’ve already made him pay enough.

  “Of course. I’d hate to be an asshole who runs off without paying.” He totally gets it.

  When he finishes paying for the cupcake, I’m caught off guard by what he does next. He leans over the cash register and, with the tip of his thumb, reaches for the corner of my mouth, sweeping against my lips. The rest of his fingers cup my chin while he rubs my lower lip with his thumb. I stand there, captivated by his touch, unable to move. My toes are curling and my skin is tingling. I can’t help it. My mind wanders off, remembering what his fingers did to me months ago, and I want them again. Down there. Ugh! He’s trouble.

  Luke’s deep voice quickly brings me out of my daydream and back to reality. “A bit of icing. There, all gone now. Seems as though I’m always rescuing you from messy situations.” He smirks, leaving me dazed and speechless. The slightest touch from him has such a profound effect on me. “Mmm, that’s sweet,” he says as he licks the little bit of icing that’s stuck to his thumb.

  This is when I know I’m overly analytical, because I start to wonder if he’s referring to the icing he just tasted or the taste of my lips on his thumb. I mean, it’s almost like we kissed. And then I’m blushing, not because of the sensual display in front of me (well, maybe a little bit), but because I realize I must have looked like a dork all this time, talking and grinning with pink icing stuck to my mouth. Note to self: Install a mirror above the sink.