by Aven Ellis
“Um, Jupe and I don’t own any. You can just set it down.”
I make a mental note to get these poor boys some coasters and put my drink down. Then I turn to him.
“I’m about to open the briefcase and share some classified information with you,” I declare. Then I drop my voice. “It’s very top secret. Can I have your word you won’t relay what I’m about to share with you to another living soul?”
Cade studies me with a serious expression on his gorgeous face.
“This sounds highly confidential.”
“Extremely. Secrecy is paramount to the success of this operation.”
“You could be taking a risk sharing it with me. After all, you don’t know if I’m a double agent.”
My heart flutters in my chest. If Cade only knew the risk I was taking at this moment just by being here. By allowing myself to get to know him, by spending time with him, without any guarantee of what the final outcome will be.
But right now I know this man is worth the risk.
And as such, I open the imaginary briefcase and share with him.
“I have landed my first ever development assignment,” I say.
“What? I thought you said your boss said no to the cheesecake feature,” Cade says, wrinkling his brow.
“Oh, she stomped on that,” I say. “But I landed a different one. I’m going to help develop cupcake recipes for the Valentine’s Day feature. With a celebrity.”
“What? Josephine, that’s amazing! With who?”
“You have to keep this confidential. I’d hate to have to eliminate you for a security breach.”
Cade runs his hand over his face. “I see. So if I were to leak this information, you might poison my food or something to wipe me off the face of the earth?”
“Excellent call on the method of death. I know food chemistry. I’d know exactly what to put into your food to cause death. And I bet I could make it taste good at the same time.”
Cade flashes me a sexy smile, one revealing the dimple in his cheek and making my pulse soar.
“You’ve made the consequences clear. I’ll comply.”
I pause for dramatic effect.
“I’m working with Skye Riley.”
Cade’s eyes widen in complete surprise. “No way. Skye from Is It Love?”
“Yes!” I cry excitedly. “The same Skye we were talking about last night. I’m going to help her develop cupcake recipes for our romance issue.”
“Holy shit, no way,” Cade says. Then he cocks an eyebrow at me. “I told you she was in it for the fame.”
“Cade, she had her heart broken on national TV. She should get some mileage out of it for that reason alone,” I say, feeling the need to defend my future client.
“She knew what she was signing up for,” Cade counters.
“Please, when the heart is involved, does anyone really know what they are signing up for? No.”
“If she were signing up for love in the first place, which I find highly suspect.”
“Let me guess. Did you study debate at Cornell, too?”
“I might have taken argumentation and debate in a summer session.”
“I knew it,” I say, smiling at him.
“I can’t say it comes in handy for playing hockey, but I loved the class because I’m the kind of guy who finds identifying logical fallacies fun.”
He looks at me, and I can’t say anything. Does he have any idea how much his intelligence turns me on?
The fact that Cade loves to debate raises him another notch on the sexy meter in my book.
As if that were possible.
No, it’s not. He’s so hot the whole damn meter broke.
“And if you tell anyone I like finding logical fallacies in an argument, I might have to find a way to silence you,” he says, his jade eyes shining wickedly at me.
My eyes instinctively fall to his full lips.
Kissing would be a fantastic way to silence me, I think.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Ah, pizza,” Cade says, getting up. “I’ll let you take a moment to consider my words before you proceed.”
Oh, dear God, it’s ninety-five degrees in here. I might have to stick my head in his freezer so I can cool off before I implode.
Cade opens the door.
“I’ve got two pizzas,” I hear the delivery guy say. “One cheese marinara and one with mushrooms and sausage.”
“Yes, thank you,” Cade says, taking the boxes and setting them on the kitchen bar counter. I watch as he grabs his wallet and pulls out some money.
“Um, you’re Cade Callahan, aren’t you?” the delivery guy asks.
I watch with interest. Sierra said this happens with Jude sometimes when they go out. He is often recognized and asked to sign stuff or pose for pictures.
“Yeah, I am,” Cade says.
“Dude, you’re such a badass,” the guy exclaims. “You punch the hell out of people!”
“Um, well,” Cade says, and I detect he’s uneasy talking about it. “Not all the time and definitely not off the ice.”
“Yeah, but you seriously punched the shit out of JP Rochat last season. He was so pissed he broke his stick afterward.”
“It’s part of the game,” Cade says. “Keep the change, okay?”
“Dude, awesome!” the kid exclaims. “Have a great season!”
“Thank you,” Cade says, shutting the door. He turns to me. “I’m sorry about that.”
“About what? I know you’re famous. That’s going to happen. And that’s okay.”
Cade goes into the kitchen and retrieves two plates from a cabinet. He places them on top of the pizza boxes and brings everything into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.
“Do you know what I like about you?” Cade asks, sitting closer to me on the couch this time. “You being here has nothing to do with the fact that I play hockey for a living.”
I gaze up into his handsome face. “No, it doesn’t. I mean, I want to know all about that part of your life, but I like the guy sitting next to me now. The man who knows what a fallacy is. I like getting to know this side of you first.”
Something flickers in his beautiful eyes, and I feel my breath catch in my throat in response.
“I appreciate that about you,” he says. “More than you know.”
As my gaze drops to his sexy mouth, the desire to kiss him hits me full force. I bring my eyes up and find he’s staring at me, too. Oh, God. Could he be thinking the same thing? That he wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss him?
Cade clears his throat and shifts his eyes to the pizza boxes in front of him. “Let’s see if this pizza meets your high standards. If you don’t approve of my game, it’s all over for me.”
Oh, I approve of your game, Cade Callahan, I think. And the crappiest pizza in the world couldn’t change what I’m starting to feel for you.
Rather than being close to over, we’re right at the beginning.
And I can’t wait to see where this evening goes.
CHAPTER NINE
“Bring me the pizza,” I say dramatically to tease Cade. “And I’ll see if it meets with my approval.”
Cade puts his hand on the box to open it but then stops.
“This is tense,” he says.
“It is.”
“If this doesn’t meet your standards, you’re out of here.”
“It could happen,” I say gravely.
Cade’s eyes lock on mine.
“It would be tragic if you left now.”
Oh, God, I can feel the sexual tension.
“Would it?”
“Yes,” he says seriously.
“Then this pizza is the most important piece of pizza I’ll ever try,” I say softly, keeping my eyes on his.
Nothing is said for a moment. I hear my heart beating. Anticipation runs through me. I’m falling headfirst into this crush, and while my brain should be slamming on the breaks, my heart moves forward.
I lean forward and select a piece, moving in to examine it.
“Perfect crust,” I say, glancing underneath it. “I like a nice, chewy texture. It’s wood-fired, giving it a nice crust that will crunch when you bite it but give way to a wonderful, warm, soft interior that is heaven when you taste it.”
I feel Cade’s eyes locked on my face as I talk, and oh, how I love the way he’s staring at me.
“The sauce should be simple,” I continue. “San Marzano tomatoes, known for their sweetness. Fragrant fresh basil. Garlic. Salt and pepper. Then the cheese. Fresh buffalo mozzarella with its deliciously creamy texture, melted to perfection. A drizzle of olive oil over the top to finish it off. Simplicity is my key to a perfect pizza.”
I pinch some of the cheese off the top of the pizza and pull it away. “Look at the glorious melt on this,” I say, breaking the strands with my fingers. “This is what you want. This texture is perfection.”
I place the cheese in my mouth, savoring the taste of it.
“Mmm,” I moan blissfully. “This is so flavorful. Creamy. Delicious.”
I put my pizza down on the plate and reach for a napkin to blot my lips, but Cade’s hand covers mine, stopping me.
I quickly look at him, surprised.
“Don’t,” he says softly, squeezing my hand in his. “Allow me.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t. My heart is pounding. Anticipation burns in me like never before.
He leans in toward me. I see nothing but desire burning in his beautiful eyes. Cade oh-so-slowly lifts his hand toward my face, then takes his thumb and gently traces it over the corners of my mouth.
Oh, God.
“Nothing is sexier than you talking about food,” Cade says, leaning in closer to me.
“It’s my passion,” I say, his mouth now inches from mine.
“I know,” Cade says, placing his fingertips underneath my chin and tilting my face toward his.
“I’m Italian,” I say as desire builds in me. “I’m supposed to be passionate.”
“You are. And all I could think about the whole time you were sharing your passion about pizza was what it would be like to kiss these beautiful lips of yours,” he says, teasingly brushing his finger over my lower lip. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you now, if you’ll let me.”
I’m drunk on him, on his sexiness and sweetness, all coming together in this moment.
“Yes, you may,” I say.
Cade dips his head, and his lips brush against mine. His mouth is warm and soft. He slides his hand up to the side of my face, stroking it gently as his lips part mine.
Every nerve I have burns with desire. His mouth is warm and caressing, slowly exploring me as we kiss. I taste beer on his tongue. I inhale the sage and citrus scent lingering on him. His facial hair deliciously scratches my skin, which feels amazingly sexy.
I lift my hand and touch his face, feeling his dark stubble graze my fingertips as Cade seeks more from me. I melt into him, drinking in his kiss, feeling nothing but excitement swirling in me. Cade’s kiss is sensual and seeking. It’s hot, just like him.
I dare to slide my hand down his neck, to the back of his head, and I touch his hair, which is luxuriously thick. I wrap the silky strands around my fingers as we continue to kiss and touch each other.
Cade’s hands don’t stray from my hair and face, and it has a drugging effect on me. We continue to discover each other with slow, lingering kisses, and I realize this isn’t an ordinary kiss.
This is pure magic.
Finally he breaks the kiss, staring down at me with bewilderment on his face.
“I can’t believe I did that,” he whispers, lifting his hand to my face. “I was trying like hell to wait, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit here and not know that, what your kiss was like. But I’m glad I didn’t wait. Not when it feels so right to kiss you.”
Then he presses his lips to mine again, and happiness fills me. This sexy, brilliant man with so many talents wants to kiss me tonight.
As Cade’s warm mouth seeks more from me, I decide that dinner is highly overrated as a date night activity.
Not when I can be kissing Cade.
And that’s exactly what I intend to do.
***
“You know,” I say, picking up another slice, “cold pizza is really the perfect food.”
Cade grins wickedly at me. “Is that so?”
I laugh as I take a bite. Cade and I ended up making out for hours on the couch. If we both hadn't been starving, I would have kept kissing him.
“Yes. Don’t you agree?”
“If it means I get to kiss you, then yes, it’s a fantastic dinner,” he teases.
I blush, and he smiles.
“I have some confidential information to share,” he says.
“Oh, do tell.”
Cade brushes my hair away from my face. “I want you to know I didn’t invite you up here with the intention of making out with you. I don’t want you to think that.”
I study him, and I see concern etched on his handsome face.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“I was going to take you out on a date first,” Cade admits. “I thought tonight would be more about getting to know you. But God, you were sitting there looking so beautiful in that dress, and your skin smelled like vanilla, and it was driving me crazy, and then you were talking about pizza with a passion I’ve never seen in a woman, and I couldn’t do it. All thoughts of restraint went flying out the window.”
Happiness runs through me as I take in his words. Cade is reassuring me I’m not a one-night mess around for him.
He respects me.
Which I realize is something I never had with Marco.
“I appreciate that,” I say, staring at him. “And don’t worry, you can still learn all about me. And kiss me. Because you’re a really good kisser, Cade Callahan. I’d hate to let that solid skill be wasted.”
A slow, sexy smile lights up his face. “You make perfect sense.”
“Speaking of getting to know you,” I say, pausing to eat another bite, “I want to talk about your hockey life. Why do you get into so many fights? Your personality doesn’t seem to match what I’ve seen on YouTube. I don’t think it’s the sport itself because Jude doesn’t seem to get into a ton of fights.”
Cade flicks open his pizza box and removes a slice.
“Jupe isn’t badass like me,” he quips. Then he looks at me and smiles. “Kidding.”
“But why do you fight?”
Cade puts his pizza down on a plate and sets it in front of him on the coffee table.
“I want you to understand that this is hockey and not how I am off the ice,” he says slowly. “Fighting there is part of my game, but I don’t fight off it.”
My heart is touched by his words. I can tell it’s important to Cade that I understand this.
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
“When I play hockey, I’m all out,” Cade explains. “I love the game and the mental challenges of it. If you can get in someone’s head, you can change the whole direction on the ice. I discovered early on I was good at it. When I watched film, I could see what frustrated other players. Weak spots. What made them tick. And I learned how to exploit it.
“I play with passion,” he continues. “I’m fired up. I’ll do whatever it takes to win. But if someone cheap shots one of my teammates, I have no problem engaging them on my shift. If you watch my games, you’ll see that I’m aggressive in my play. I stay on people. I’m not afraid to get physical. But I’m not a goon. I don’t hit the ice with the intention of starting a fight. And I never will. But will I play with intensity? Yes. Will I be physical? Yes. But hit someone just to hit someone? No.”
Suddenly the picture makes sense.
The Cade I’m getting to know isn’t a bully on the ice, so to speak, but plays with an intensity and passion that might drive opposing players to take a swing at him. And if someone went after a teammate, Cade would be the one to step in and make a statement about it.
“Do you understand?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I do,” I say, nodding. “It makes sense now.”
“I’m glad. I want you to understand. It would be easy to get the wrong impression of me if you just went to Google.” Cade gives me the side-eye. “Did you Google me?”
Shit.
“Of course I did, but I’d Google you if your name was John Smith.”
“That would be a tough search. You’d come up with millions of hits.”
I laugh. “I love your humor.” Then I turn serious. “Does it bother you that I Googled you?”
“Nah. Because I Googled you, too.”
“What?”
Cade cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’re not the only agent doing recon work, Ms. Rossi.”
“Oh, did you find out anything juicy about me?” I ask, taking another bite of pizza.
“Yes,” he declares. “You were voted most likely to appear on Cupcake Wars at St. Anne’s Preparatory Catholic School.”
“That’s on Google?” I ask, incredulous.
“You’ve never Googled yourself?”
“No,” I cry, shaking my head. “I don’t want to know what’s out there.”
“Ha-ha, imagine being me,” Cade says, pausing to take a bite of pizza. “I never look myself up on social media. Unless I’m in the mood to hear what a jerk I am from the opposing team’s fan base.”
“Okay. What if we took hockey out? What would we find?”
Cade thinks for a second. “Cade Callahan, lover of historical documentaries, books, and asking questions. The end.”
“That’s not all. You love the outdoors.”
“Oh, right. Lover of the outdoors. The end.”
“Would you stop it? There’s so much more to you than that. Like craft beer aficionado,” I tease.
“Yeah, that too,” Cade says, smiling. “Okay, what about you? What should Google say about you?”
“Josephine Rossi,” I say. “Passionate baker. Lover of Julia Child, The Golden Girls, vision boards, and cheesecakes. But only if they are well made. Nothing is worse than a crappy cheesecake.”