Semi-Sweet On You: Hot Cakes Series

by Nicholas, Erin

  He gave a low growl as he looked down, then teased her nipple with his fingers, plucking and rolling.

  Hot shocks of sensation jolted through her and she tightened her knees, squeezing him.

  “Oh, I like that,” he told her roughly, pulling on her nipple again.

  “Cam. Please.”

  “I’ve got you.” He dipped his knees, putting his mouth to her nipple and sucking.

  It was relief and torture at the same time. It eased the ache there but started a new one pulsing between her legs.

  “Cam!” She was louder this time.

  His tongue licked over her hard tip as his hand squeezed her hip. He kissed his way up her chest and over her shoulder to her neck where he sucked lightly before he dragged his mouth to hers again.

  Her fingers bumped down his abs to the front of his jeans as he kissed her. His tongue slid along hers and she worked the button on his jeans loose, then the zipper. She had to touch him. She slipped her hand past the denim and cotton a second later, gliding along the hard, hot length of his cock.

  His breath hissed out as he ripped his mouth from hers. He pressed into her hand even as his hot gaze collided with hers.

  “Whit.”

  His voice was tight. He sounded like he didn’t have enough air to even say the word.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his shaft and squeezing.

  “Jesus,” he groaned.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, tipped his head back and dragged in air. Then he dropped his hands to her wrists and pulled her hand from his body.

  “Wha—” But she didn’t need to finish the question. She saw it in his face. He’d changed his mind.

  “We need to stop,” he told her gruffly.

  “No.” She pulled out of his grasp and grabbed the bottom of his shirt attempting to pull him in again. If she could get her mouth on his she could keep him from talking.

  For some reason she sensed that she should keep him from talking.

  He wrapped a hand around her wrist and held her. “Yes. Stop.”

  He reached for the bra strap he’d slid from her shoulder and pulled it back into place.

  “What? Why?” She demanded as he stepped back.

  He wasn’t out of reach, but his body language was saying clearly that he didn’t want her to reach out.

  “We need to just be friends.”

  14

  Whitney blinked at him.

  He waited for a few beats, giving her a chance to respond, she assumed. But then he said, “Whit? Just friends.”

  She nodded. “I heard you.”

  “So that’s okay, right? That’s good? What you want?”

  She wet her lips, looked down at herself—her skirt hiked up, her blouse on the floor—then at him and the very obvious erection behind his open fly.

  “No, not good,” she said.

  He blew out a breath and rezipped his pants. Then he tucked his hands into his back pockets. To keep from reaching for her maybe? “Why not?” he asked. “You were the one who was against the idea of us dating again.”

  She nodded. “I’m against dating, yes. But I can honestly say I would very much rather have sex in this kitchen than talk about my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s in this kitchen. If being friends means talking about that, or my family being a bunch of assholes, or how you think my personal and professional priorities are all screwed up then… no. Not really interested.”

  She pushed him back and slid to the floor, smoothing her skirt down as she went. She bent to retrieve her blouse and slipped it on, buttoning only the two buttons between her breasts just to keep it closed until she could get upstairs.

  She faced him again. “Also,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair, knowing it was mussed from Cam’s fingers, and really wishing his fingers were there again, “If you don’t want to have sex with me, then no more kissing.”

  Cam winced slightly. “I did that to shut—stop you from talking.”

  Her eyebrows rose.

  “You wouldn’t stop, and raising my voice might have woken Didi up and putting my hand over your mouth seemed unnecessarily aggressive.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yelling and hands over mouths are definitely aggressive.”

  “It was just an impulsive reaction.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. Okay, so he hadn’t been planning to kiss her. That was maybe good.

  “So why your sudden change of heart on us dating?” Whitney asked.

  “Because I saw your face on the video call the other morning.”

  She frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “You’re nervous about the project.”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she took a moment to answer. He’d seen that in her face? Via video call?

  She wet her lips. “I didn’t hide that very well, huh?”

  “But I don’t think you’re just worried about impressing us. You need to impress yourself.”

  She just nodded. There was no sense in arguing with him about that, considering he had read her expression correctly.

  “I’ve never had a big project like this.”

  He nodded. “And it’s important to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “So I’d say that means you need a friend more than you need a date.”

  She studied his face. Wow, that was sweet. Insightful. Nice. Finally she nodded. “You’re right.”

  “And we’ve never been friends,” he said. “We were nemeses because of our families. And classmates. Then boyfriend-girlfriend. Then…”

  “Exes,” she said with a shrug. She’d never considered him an enemy exactly, but they hadn’t stayed friends after their breakup, either. And no, they hadn’t really been friends before they’d started sneaking around.

  “Yeah. Exes. So maybe we should try the friend thing. Hot Cakes needs you and I have a vested interest in things going well there. And you need help with Didi to make that project happen.”

  She nodded. Her throat was tight. This was nice. Almost a relief. Having someone realize that she was nervous without her having to confess it was nice. Having someone say, “let me help” was nice. Having it be someone who was making her grandmother happy was nice.

  “Okay. Friends.”

  “And you have to stop putting work between us,” he said. “We’re on the same team. That’s going to take us some getting used to, I know. But it’s true. You’re not doing all of this yourself. You’re doing the stuff that the rest of us can’t do. For now, the ball is in your court. When you’ve got your part done, then the rest of us will take our pieces and do our stuff.”

  That also sounded really nice. A team. She hadn’t had that before.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “And if you don’t want Didi with my family then, say it. But don’t make this about boss-employee-work bullshit.”

  She lifted a brow. “Okay. I don’t want Didi with your family.” She wasn’t sure she really meant that. But she was curious about his reaction to her saying it.

  He gave her a nod. Then said, “Too bad.”

  “What?”

  “Didi will be going to my mom’s with me for dinner whenever you work late.”

  Whitney’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Is that just a ploy to get me to not work late or—?” She glanced at the cake. “Do you bake but not cook?”

  He shrugged. “You can take it however you want.”

  That wasn’t a no. Did Cam want her here for dinner some nights? And if so, why? The friend thing?

  “But it’s silly to cook when my mom is already doing it and wants us there,” he added. “And Henry wants to see Didi again. And everyone loves hearing her stories, especially the ones about my grandma.”

  Whitney felt her heart flip again, but it was a softer feeling this time. “She might be in a mood one night and tell them bad stories, you know.”

  He smiled. “Maybe. But Letty told us plenty of bad stories about Didi.
It’s probably only fair that we hear a few from the other point of view.”

  “Your grandma told you bad stories about my grandma?”

  “Of course. They were archenemies, remember?”

  No one in Appleby could forget.

  “It’s actually even more likely that you’ll hear the same stories over and over,” Whitney said. “She probably won’t remember what she’s already told you.”

  He shrugged. “We don’t mind. Letty did that too.”

  There was a sadness mixed with affection in his expression.

  “You miss her,” Whitney said.

  “A lot,” he agreed with a nod. “I came home to visit, but the last few years I wasn’t around as much and I missed out on a lot.”

  “And Didi makes everyone happy because she reminds them of Letty?”

  “Yeah. And Letty never played Warriors with Henry so he thinks Didi is especially awesome.”

  “Didi is especially awesome,” Whitney said softly.

  It was nice to think that her grandmother could fill in some gaps for a family who had just lost someone they loved. And she suspected Didi liked Henry a lot. Her own grandsons would have never thought to have her play video games with them. Whitney would have, but not her brothers. Maybe Henry would let Didi read some of her and Whitney’s favorite books to him. He was eleven, but if he was missing his grandma, cuddling up with Didi for a story or two might be exactly what he needed.

  But she wasn’t going to let Cam off the hook quite that easily.

  “So when you said that if I didn’t want her spending time with your family to just say so… you didn’t mean that it would matter. But I could feel free to say it.”

  He smiled. “Exactly. You can always tell me how you really feel or think about something, even if it’s something that’s my idea.”

  “But you won’t listen,” she pointed out.

  “I’ll listen,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll always agree with you.”

  She sighed. “Ditto.”

  He nodded. “I know. But friends can be honest with each other.”

  “Okay. Well, honestly, this is all really weird. All of it.” From them kissing to Henry and Didi becoming buddies.

  “Yeah,” Cam acknowledged. “But if the way things were before was ‘normal’ I think I’m in favor of weird.”

  He might have a point. It did feel better to think their families could get along rather than thinking she and Cam needed to keep the three-generation-old family feud going.

  She sighed. “So you totally know what you’re doing?”

  “No. Do you?” he countered.

  “No,” she admitted.

  Not with work. She’d never led a project before. And not with Didi. Alzheimer’s was a strange disease. There were commonalities among patients, of course, but no two people were alike. Whitney didn’t know for certain if she was doing something right or wrong when she let Didi drink margaritas in the middle of the night or when she said okay to Didi hanging out with the McCafferys. Or anything else, honestly.

  “The main thing I’ve learned about having a group of friends who really care about me and my happiness is that if I fuck something up, I’ve got people who can help fix it,” Cam said. He paused, watching her. “Have you ever felt like you could screw something up and it would still be okay?”

  Whitney shook her head slowly without even thinking about it. She had definitely never felt that way. Not with her friends in high school. Not with the acquaintances she had now. Not with her family.

  “So that’s what you need most,” he said. His voice was a little gruff, but he seemed determined. “You need real friends. You need to have people who have your back.”

  Whitney actually felt her eyes stinging slightly. That sounded amazing. She’d been watching these men together for the past couple of months and completely envying their relationships. She envied how comfortable Piper was with them as well. It was clear that even when they disagreed, they cared about one another. And when it came to Hot Cakes, they were all working toward the same goal and trusted and respected one another.

  She wanted that.

  All of it.

  A lot.

  Cam was right. Maybe it was because he knew her. Maybe it was because he was really paying attention. Maybe it was because she was not good at hiding her feelings and vulnerabilities after all. But, yes, she wanted all of that. Trust and respect and a team and friends.

  “It’s pretty pathetic that I don’t have any friends at age twenty-nine, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “And it should feel uncomfortable to admit to you that I didn’t have a good relationship with my dad and grandpa and brothers.”

  Cam’s jaw tightened and his eyes flickered with emotion. “Does it?” he asked, his voice rough.

  Did it feel uncomfortable or pathetic? Strangely, no.

  “Not really.”

  He gave a single nod. “Good.”

  “I understand why you want me to feel comfortable at work,” she said. “That benefits Hot Cakes, and you. But why do you care if I have friends?”

  He pulled in a breath and wet his lips. “Because I want to be the one who gives you what you need.”

  His words were husky and they hit her in the gut. Heat spread and she sucked in a breath. That sounded very protective. Almost possessive. Yet, comforting at the same time.

  “Really?” she asked. “You think I need this?”

  He met her eyes directly. “Yes.”

  “You could feel smug about that,” she said. “You could be happy that I’ve been pretty lonely and unhappy all this time.”

  Again, his jaw ticked. “I guess. But I don’t. Not a bit. It makes me crazy knowing that you haven’t had what you wanted and needed.”

  She stared at him. Wow. This was all so unexpected. Everything about Cam being back had been unexpected. From the chemistry still between them to how he’d just rolled with everything going on with Didi to… this.

  “You wanted me to be happy without you?” she asked, her voice a little husky now too.

  “No.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. No, I didn’t want you to be happy without me, exactly, but it makes me nuts that you’ve been alone and feeling… not good enough and not valued and not fulfilled. It’s… confusing as fuck.”

  She laughed softly. “Actually, I get it,” she said, realizing that she really did.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been really happy that you have been so successful. I watched your football career and, of course, everything that’s happened with Fluke and I’ve been proud and happy about how that all turned out. Even though I really missed you and it made me sad to be without you.”

  His eyes flashed at that and Whitney had the definite impression that he wanted to reach out and pull her in close.

  “And,” she went on. “When I watch you with the guys, and with Piper, I’m so, so happy that you have them. Even while I’m jealous of how well they know you and all the memories they have with you.”

  She saw him ball his hand into a fist, as if fighting that urge to reach out.

  “So,” she said. “I get what you’re feeling a little, I think. I care about you enough to want you to be happy but I also care enough to be a little sad that I’m not a part of it.”

  He nodded. “I definitely hate that you haven’t been happy. And I definitely want to be a part of making you happy. And I’m pretty thrilled that what you need is friends, because I have some of the best and I’m happy to share. That is, at least, something I can give you.”

  She smiled even as her throat tightened. Being friends with him and him realizing how important this Hot Cakes project was to her was amazing. She didn’t have to worry about hurting him or choosing work over him and ruining everything.

  And the intense desire to step forward and wrap her arms around him and beg him to cover her in chocolate sauce was just a product of that relief and gratitude.

  Probably.

  “For the
record, it’s also nice to have a friend helping with Didi. I’m kind of winging it there too.”

  He smiled. “When I first came back to town, if someone had told me this”—he looked around the kitchen—“is where you and I would be, I never would have believed them.”

  She nodded. “I know.” It seemed crazy on the surface that the person who knew about Didi and was helping her with the caregiving was Camden McCaffery. Yet… it didn’t feel crazy. “And I—” She took a breath. “I trust you. If you think her playing video games with Henry is good, then… it’s good. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Whitney shrugged. “My philosophy is pretty simple—when I’m her age and I know I’m running out of time to remember the fun and the people that matter, then I’m going to do what I want, when I want. If I want burgers at three a.m. with my granddaughter or margaritas by the pool at nine a.m. with my granddaughter’s ex-boyfriend, then, yeah, I’m going to do that. And pray I’ve got people around me who will let me, while keeping me safe.”

  Cam just looked at her for a few beats. Then he nodded. “So you do know what you’re doing.”

  That surprised her. She laughed lightly. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re making her happy and doing it out of love. That’s what you should be doing.”

  Whitney stared at him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Just… thank you.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I believe you. It means a lot from you.”

  “Because I’ve been an ass to you for ten years over other decisions you’ve made?”

  She snorted. “Something like that.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Well, it’s come to my attention that I was angry at someone who… isn’t real.”

  She felt her eyes widen.

  “I thought I knew you, Whit. But I’m learning that I don’t. I knew the eighteen-year-old you. And I’m not sure I even knew her that well.”