Published by Mergenie Books
Copyright 2012 Judi Fennell
Cover and interior design by http://www.formatting4U.com
Editing by Helen Hardt
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All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author. Please contact the author at [email protected]. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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ISBN: 978-0-9854534-3-5
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To my readers.
Thank you for allowing me to continue to do this.
And to Pat Shaw. For as solitary as writing can be, there are always people around to help make it not so lonely. People with amazing talent and generosity. I am so lucky to call such a gifted writer and wonderful person, my friend.
Bon appétit!
The Morning After
This wasn’t her hotel room.
The suit jacket tossed on the chair was Lara’s first clue.
The discarded matching pants on the floor in front of it was her second.
The dip in the mattress as someone got off the bed behind her was her third.
Oh my God. What had she done?
Well, it was pretty obvious what she’d done, but, oh God...
Lara clamped her eyes shut as that someone came around the foot of the bed, peeking only when she heard the bathroom door slide open.
Oh my. The guy’s bare naked ass looked really good. Probably better out of those pants than in them—too bad she didn’t remember what it’d looked like in them.
Too bad she didn’t remember him.
The door clicked closed and Lara shot to her feet—to the second shock of the morning.
She was wearing only a t-shirt. And it wasn’t hers.
She didn’t want to think about whose it was or how she came to be in said t-shirt; she just wanted to grab her dress, shoes, and purse, and get the hell out before her one-and-only one-night stand finished doing whatever it was a one-night stand did the morning after.
She scooped the dress off the dresser—no, she wasn’t going to think about how it’d gotten there—tore his shirt up over her head then the dress down over it, and bagged looking for her bra. She just wanted out.
Her shoes were next to the chair—one was under it—and her purse, thank God, was hanging on the hotel room door.
Twenty-five seconds. That’s all it took her to escape from the most un-Lara-like thing she’d ever done in her life.
It took thirty-five more seconds for the damn elevator to make its way to the—she squinted at the floor marker above the “Down” arrow—the tenth floor.
Thank God there was no one in the elevator. She didn’t need witnesses to her walk of shame.
God, wouldn’t Jeff be shocked to see her now? “Sexually boring and uninspiring” was what he’d said to explain the affair—among others—but this walk of shame negated those.
She couldn’t believe it. Thirty-years-old with her own up-and-coming bakery, yet one too many shots at her college roommate’s bachelorette party had her picking up some random guy for a night of uninhibited monkey sex to soothe her smashed-to-smithereens ego from an ex who didn’t deserve the time of day let alone this kind of prove-him-wrong strategy.
It had been uninhibited monkey sex, right?
She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up an image, but the last thing she could remember was jitterbugging on the dance floor.
She didn’t know how to jitterbug. But, apparently, that hadn’t stopped her.
Oh, God, her head. And her stomach. And that cotton mouth thing…
The bell dinged as the elevator arrived at the second floor. She fumbled for her room key and stumbled out into a blessedly empty hallway. Her room was down a few doors, and thankfully she’d decided to forego a roommate on this trip.
Well, a regular roommate.
Who was the guy? She didn’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name.
She groaned as she made it into her hotel room. How bad was it that the only recallable part of him was his bare naked ass and that she only remembered because she’d seen it on her way out the door?
She peeled the dress off her body—it’d been on backwards—and headed into the bathroom. Shower, breakfast, and a big glass of orange juice, then she could grab her car and get the hell out of Dodge so she wouldn’t have to risk running into her biggest regret anytime soon.
But the question was: what was her regret for? That she’d picked him up in the first place, or that she couldn’t remember a damn thing about what had come after?
***
Gage ran the towel through his hair, then wrapped it around his hips. Didn’t want to shock Sleeping Beauty out there with nudity upon opening her gorgeous eyes.
He caught his smile in the mirror. Yeah, it was wolfish, but why shouldn’t it be? He’d ended up with the most gorgeous woman at the party, and that included the bride-to-be.
Of course, he’d broken his own rules to do so—no partying with the patrons—but she’d walked in and knocked him sideways.
It’d be funny, really, if it weren’t so, well, not. He never went for short, dark, and curvy. Model-thin bombshells were more his type. At least, they had been. But then she’d walked in, her curves making his palms sweat, her curls begging for his fingers to dive in and hold on, and those chocolate brown eyes... They’d screamed bedroom so loudly they’d almost drowned out the music, and he’d had a hard time keeping his mind on the show.
Thank God the guys knew their shit. Markus had known it a little too well; he’d been focused on Lara from the first bump-and-grind number.
Luckily, no one had questioned the quick change-up in routines he’d made so that Markus was off stage until the middle of the second act.
By then, the shots that’d been flowing around that table had insured Lara’s interest had no longer been solely on Markus.
That’s when he’d made his move.
Made his move. Gage groaned. What was he—twenty? He never had to make moves; women flocked to him.
But she’d been wedged in the corner of her booth, surrounded by friends, staring at the stage, and hadn’t looked like she was going to get out anytime soon.
He grabbed his toothbrush. He should have moved sooner. Then maybe she wouldn’t have done those last two shots. The woman was a lightweight. She’d ma
de it to the hotel elevator and had literally passed out in his arms. It’d put a damper on his evening, but not his libido.
He just hoped she was more awake this morning.
He finished brushing his teeth and poured a glass of water. She was going to need it and it’d give him the excuse to sit beside her.
And hopefully do much more.
He opened the door softly. He wanted to be the one to wake her, not the noise or the light from the bathroom.
Except… she was gone.
He slumped against the doorframe. Served him right. He played to the fantasies of hundreds of women every weekend, but the one whose fantasy he’d personally wanted to grant apparently had no interest in letting him.
Chapter 1
“Get your hands off my cupcakes.” Lara tipped the wooden spatula up toward the guy leering at her over her booth at the bridal expo. It might not be a big weapon, but a quick slap could sting, and Mr. Drunken Father of A Bride looked like he could use a slap or two.
Especially when he leered at her. “Baby, I’m not anywhere near your cupcakes, but if you lean a little closer, I’ll be happy to oblige.”
Lara snorted. That had to be one of the worst pickup lines she’d ever heard.
She flicked the spatula under the two cupcakes he’d squashed. The Romeo and Juliet models. Damn. Those were some of her most intricate designs and always impressed the clientele.
Drunk Dad didn’t stop. “How about you and I getting together later on over drinks and discuss your… cupcakes?”
“How about we don’t?”
Drunk Dad blinked. “Aw, now that’s not nice.” He walked to the end of the booth and picked up a spun sugar butterfly. “Like this one, for instance. I bet this tastes really good on my tongue.”
She would never look at those butterflies the same way again.
She took it out of his hand.
But that put her close enough for him to grab hold of her. And he did, clamping a sweaty hand around her wrist.
“Come on, baby, it’s a party weekend. All this love and sex in the air. Surely you feel it.”
“What I feel is you crossing a line, mister.” She set the cupcake down and tried to pry his fingers away. Especially the pinky. If she could bend it back far enough—
He dragged her to him, slobbering a kiss on her lips and a meaty paw on her breast.
She reared back. “Get off me—”
He went flying backward.
“The lady said to leave her alone.”
A guy in tight jeans, a cowboy hat, and a shirt opened to his waist stood there, muscles jacked, his breathing ratcheted up, looking like a hero straight out of a romance novel.
Drunk Dad tried to scramble to his feet. “What the hell was that? I’ll sue your ass—”
“Stow it, dickwad, and pray the lady isn’t going to press charges for assault.”
That sobered the guy up.
But Lara was stuck on the six-pack right there on display beneath her rescuer’s open shirt.
“Up here, sweetheart.” Cowboy dude flicked his fingers by his waist at her.
She looked up.
Oh God, he’d caught her staring. And that full out grin he had going said he knew just what she’d been looking at, and that he liked her looking.
She could feel the blush flaming up her cheeks.
He smiled and tipped the brim of his hat, then turned around to help the drunken asshole off the floor.
God, the man had one fine backside. Just like Mr. Bare Naked Ass from the hotel two weeks ago.
She shook her head. She was insane. Mr. B.N.A.’s ass had been naked; this guy’s was covered. No similarity whatsoever. Well, other than the fact that they were both perfectly formed and she wouldn’t mind getting her hands on all four cheeks.
“You got a keeper around here or should I turn you over to security?” Cowboy wrenched the drunk’s arm.
“I’m good. I got a wife.”
“Lucky lady.” Cowboy waggled his eyebrows at Lara. “How about you go find her and never come back? If I see you here again, I won’t go as easy on you as I did this time. Do I make myself clear?”
Drunk Guy ran a hand through his comb-over. “Crystal.”
“Good. Now get out of here.”
Lara tried to regain her composure as Cowboy sauntered up to her booth. And saunter he did, all hip rolling, boot scuffling sexiness.
“How you doin’, Cupcake?”
Oh my. From him, that pick-up line worked. Definitely all in the delivery.
She just wished she were immune. Jeff had done a number on her trust when it came to any guy, but especially dreamy ones.
And this one, with golden blond hair and startling blue eyes, was definitely what dreams were made of.
But no. No more dreaming. No more guys. Focus on her career. That was what she had to count on now, not some guy’s fickle libido. “I’ve heard that one before.”
He looked her up and down and Lara felt the heat as if he’d used a blow torch.
“I bet you have. How about the one about finding out if you’re good enough to lick?”
She was going to melt right in this spot. “Um, yeah. Heard that one, too.” But never like that. He was the first guy she actually considered letting find out the answer.
For all of about two seconds. A guy like him would never be interested in her for anything more than a one-nighter—and the one she’d had had convinced her she wasn’t cut out for any more.
“Well then, I’ll have to think hard to come up with something new.”
She couldn’t help it; her eyes flickered to his groin.
Then back to his face when he chuckled.
Okay, just let the convention center floor open up and swallow her now.
No, she was not going to think about anything to do with Cowboy and swallowing.
Then Cowboy stuck out his hand. “Hi. It’s Gage. Gage Tomlinson?”
She surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palm—completely Cowboy’s, er, Gage’s fault, by the way—on her thigh. “Lara. Cavallo. Thank you for taking care of him.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
God, it was sexy when he affected that accent and tipped his hat. Lara was totally getting the cowboy fantasy.
“Would you like a cupcake? I mean—”She really wouldn’t mind the floor opening up right now—“as a thank you.”
His smile was devastating. So was that dimple in his cheek. “I absolutely would like a cupcake. Maybe two?”
They were talking about sugar and cake Cups & Cakes, right?
“Uh, sure. You can have two. Take your, uh, pick.” Any day now… Big ol’ crack in the floor. It’d do wonders for her embarrassment.
He took his time, staring at each one of her cupcakes. The ones on the table, that is. An inordinately long amount of time.
Long enough that he attracted the attention of more than a few women. Who all started making suggestions as to which cupcakes he ought to choose.
She’d never had better advertising, but the winks he kept shooting her way whenever someone asked him what kind of cupcakes he liked were way more thrilling.
Sexually boring and uninspiring, was she? Hunka Hunka Cowboy didn’t seem to think so.
Lara quickly handed out her take-away brochures and sample bites of the different cakes, gathering a bunch of business cards, while Cowboy worked his magic.
Wonder what other kind of magic he can work?
He caught her staring at him, but aside from a glimmer of a smile, all he did was tip his hat.
It was enough.
“Well, ma’am. I thank you for the offer, but seems to me you’re going to need all the cupcakes you have. I’ll just wait and see what’s left when we’re done here. Okay with you?”
She nodded, but if he kept looking at her like that, she wasn’t going to have much of anything left: composure, sanity, strength in her legs...
“Okay, then. You let me know when you’re free. I’m at booth 263.”
She nodded as he turned and walked away.
Man, the guy filled out those jeans like nobody’s business.
And she wouldn’t mind making it hers.
Chapter 2
Contact made. Well, figuratively. Physically would come next.
He hoped.
Gage took the hat off and ran a hand through his hair. Damn thing was hot in this hall, but it worked on women every time.
“Gone a long time, boss.” Murph handed him a stack of business cards.
Gage glanced at them. Amazing how many hand-written phone numbers showed up on the cards women dropped at BeefCake, Inc.’s booth. His email list was going to hit six figures by the end of the weekend.
Hopefully his bank account would follow soon after.
“Good job, guys. If you want to take a break, I’ll cover.” He shoved the cards into the fishbowl on the booth, then grabbed one of the folding chairs and straddled it, taking a load off. Once those women were finished with Lara’s booth, they’d find their way to his. They always did, and while he’d told Lara his booth number because he hoped she would actually come find him, it’d also been good business. He needed all the business he could get.
“You want anything while we’re gone?” Tanner undid the bow tie and tossed it onto the table. “Damn thing could choke a horse in this heat.”
Gage refrained from the comment that would normally follow that statement. Tanner was their top tip-earner. The guy had more bills in his g-string than the next three highest-earning dancers made combined. Had something to do with a horse all right.
But, hey, it paid the guy’s bills and gave Gage a couple extra hundred a month. Every little bit helped.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“You don’t want a… cupcake?”
Gage smiled and shook his head. He was never going to live that night down. The guys had seen him go ape shit over her, and well, at least they didn’t have a clue where she’d spent the night. He wanted to keep it that way.
Beefcake & Cupcakes Page 1