Baking From The Hart (Once Upon A Romance, book 10) (Once Upon A Romance Series)

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Baking From The Hart (Once Upon A Romance, book 10) (Once Upon A Romance Series) Page 8

by Laurie LeClair


  “Just let me know the timeframe. I’m assuming sooner rather than later.”

  “Give her a chance. For Lola’s sake, if not your own.” What?! Are you crazy? Aren’t you anti-marriage, anti-commitment? You should be telling him to run as fast and far as he can.

  “You give crappy advice, you know that, Blackstock?”

  “Funny, you’re not the first one to ever tell me that, Harrison.” Usually, it’s for the opposite reasons.

  When had things changed? Where was that hard-line attitude of his that no one—no man should subject himself to the marriage trap?

  ***

  Gretchen ended up dragging Noah out of the back door and into the alley with a heaping trash dumpster waiting for the garbage man to pick it up in a few hours. Thankfully, the string of lemon air fresheners Jana and she had stuck around the edges a few weeks ago still worked wonders. Gray light washed the cloudy early morning sky. “I open in fifteen minutes. My customers can’t see you.”

  “Did you just hiss?” Surprise covered his handsome, rugged features.

  “I did and I will again.” She planted her hands on her hips. His smile grew. Her heart fluttered. “Quit!” Are you telling that to him or yourself?

  “Ah, such sweet treats coming from such a wicked woman?” He tsked. “Who knew?”

  “Noah Blackstock, you must go. G-O! You can’t be seen here, understand?”

  “Not sure if I like this crabby side of you, sweetheart.”

  She gulped hard. His eyes flared, seemingly taken aback as much as she was from the endearment. “I’ll see you later.” It came out low and husky, as if it were a promise for more. And she did want more. But he was dangerous to her—made her want things and need things she couldn’t and shouldn’t have now, maybe ever. Her family came first and her business next. Noah didn’t fit in with her plans and she with his.

  He halted, brushing back wisps of her hair from her cheek. The touch, soft and gentle, brought a well of longing to her. “Are you all right?”

  His overwhelming concern caused a sore spot to thrum to life. “He told you.”

  “I’m sorry. Did she really mean it? To hurt you?”

  “Does anyone?” The words caught in the back of her throat. She shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  Noah jerked back and shook his head as if he’d been sucker-punched. “No!” He cupped her face in his big, callused hands and tilted her chin up, so he could look into her eyes. “Do not get used to it. Never get used to it. Get through it. Get over it. But not used to it.”

  “Fierce words, Mr. Blackstock,” she whispered, in awe of his contained anger for her.

  “Gretchen.” His frown didn’t mar his handsome features; in fact, it just emphasized his mesmerizing eyes even more. He ran his thumb over her cheek. “You deserve better.”

  Words failed her. She swallowed hard. No one had truly ever cared enough to defend her needs.

  Lowering his head, he trailed his lips over hers, testing, tasting her willing response.

  She caved, savoring his deep, heady kisses. Long and drawn-out, they made her knees weak and her insides quake. She touched his rock-solid chest. His muscles bunched and rippled beneath his soft gray Henley shirt and under her palms. Heat licked along her nerve endings, the sparks snapping and shooting and leaving behind a fire. Aching with want, Gretchen succumbed to his tender touch.

  Noah whispered her name. It came out part groan and part moan. “I shouldn’t…feel this way.” However, he didn’t stop.

  Gretchen realized the tug-of-war inside him; they matched her own desires. A sweet longing rushed through her. “It’s best if we don’t…”

  He trailed kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck, finding the sensitive spot below her ear.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she clutched his shirt.

  Reluctantly, he pulled away. His hot breath fanned her skin. “You are beautiful.”

  Something lurched behind her ribcage. No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever looked with such longing at her before. Was he for real? Could she believe what he was telling her?

  Chapter 12

  You went there! Noah berated himself throughout the day. Why had he gone to see Gretchen this morning? He was worse off, day dreaming about her in meetings with King’s salespeople who were promoting the Blackstock dessert wine for the store.

  But her wounded eyes had drawn him in. And her lips… He groaned. His entire body tingled from his head to his toes, recalling her soft, sweet kisses. So addictive! No, she was, like a delicate wine with gentle undertones of strength and power to remain everlasting.

  Noah sucked in a sharp breath, holding it until his lungs might burst. Never had he been consumed with thoughts about a woman. Or the way she felt in his arms. Or the way she tasted. And the hint of vanilla that clung to her skin.

  It was more than that, though. Gretchen fascinated him. Her drive, her tenacity to overcome to create something better for herself and for the ones she loved tapped a tornado of buried emotions inside him. A slow grin inched up the corner of his mouth.

  “Earth to Noah!” Rico snapped his fingers in front of him. “Oh, honey, where were you? That little smile. Those far away looks. Cahpowwie!”

  Peg slapped him on the back. “Wake up, hottie! We got a promo in less than ten and then we do it again. Hey, I’m a poet and don’t even know it!”

  “Again with that, Pegster? Isn’t that kinda getting old?”

  “Some friend you are.” She scribbled something on the paper attached to her clipboard. “Scratch the drinky drinks with Rico!”

  “Hey, let’s not go that far.” He chased after her as she marched away.

  “You! Yeah, you! What do you think you’re doing with our set?” Peg confronted the man shifting the counters.

  “Now someone’s in trouble, if you ask me.”

  Noah jerked around to find Charlie coming up silently beside him to gaze upon the unfolding scene of reconfiguring the space for more baking counters. “You move fast.”

  “For a pregnant woman, you mean?” She laughed. “Don’t worry, no offense.” Her sigh echoed. “It’s been a whirlwind, hasn’t it?”

  “Here, why don’t we sit?” He guided her to the metal, cushioned audience chairs, pulling out one for her and settling in another one. “Better?”

  “Much. Thanks.”

  He had this unnerving sensation she was studying him. “Why don’t I think this is some random chance meeting?” Glancing away from the controlled chaos, he shot her a sideway look.

  “Ah, Mr. Blackstock, you are very bright.”

  “It’s the wine,” he deadpanned.

  She chuckled. “Good one, Noah! I’d high-five you but it’s not easy to lean over that far in my condition.”

  Something cold and hard clutched in his gut. “So, mind filling me in?”

  “I think you know already.”

  “Gretchen Hart.” Saying her name tasted almost as good as the woman herself.

  “Bingo!”

  “The red wine. Sparks genius.” But the bubbling anxiety grew and rose until it nearly choked him.

  “She’s in the top rankings, in spite of a few glitches in the competition.”

  “Teams are disbanded now.” He pulled up short when he spied her arriving off set. She, along with the others—thirteen to be exact—were fussed over by the makeup and hair people. Watching her unobserved, he smiled at her delight.

  “You have a soft spot for her.” It wasn’t a question. “Somehow, I do, too.”

  Her confession surprised him. He glanced at Charlie, only to find her gaze on the small group. “How so?”

  “Fighting for a dream and her family. I know how that feels. I live that.”

  Stunned wonder washed over him. Just a few words, yet they encompassed everything about Gretchen. “So you understand this means a great deal to her.”

  “You’ve been seeing her.”

  How much did she know? “Spies?”
/>   “Guesses at first. Your connection to Harrison Hart. College soccer team. Red flags. The way you try not to look at each other. The way she blushes when you talked to her on camera the other day. You. Now. Plus, some of the other contestants brought it to the executives’ attention.”

  “She earned her spot.”

  “Without question, she’s an incredible baker.”

  “But…”

  “There’s rules in place for a reason. Disqualification. Or I can pull you as a judge. And your wine.”

  “Warnings?”

  “If you know me, I don’t operate like that.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I do know that.” Highly respected and well-loved, Charlie did not do things like that. She’d gotten to her position by hard work and dedication. That, he admired very much.

  “I’m giving you a choice, Noah.” Her words were gentle.

  “Stop now and we’re both still in the game.”

  “It’s got to be the wine.” The grin in her voice made him smile.

  “Most definitely.” A well of sadness crowded in his chest. Gazing over at Gretchen, he caught her stare. Her smile faltered when she glanced from Charlie and then to him. “Off-limits. I got you.”

  Noah clenched his jaw, trying to bite back the ache that swept over him.

  ***

  “Psst! Gretchen!” Danny’s loud whisper caught her attention. He gave her a thumbs-up.

  Her cheek quivered at the strain of her forced smile. But she waved as he stood a few feet away while she was being interviewed. “Come again?” She frowned at the beautifully styled female news reporter. Why couldn’t she recall the woman’s name, only the deep Southern accent from one of the local stations?

  “What’s your secret?” The woman turned to see Danny and now Max behind her. “With the men here?”

  “They like my treats? I guess?” Shrugging, she heard three other competitors beside her snicker. At least Jana didn’t laugh. “Not that. My pastries. Goodies.” Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. She swiped them away. Hot lights! More like hot topics!

  “Freebies?” she asked sweetly. “You know, samples.”

  “They’re my friends.” It sounded worse the more she spoke. Cameras were not her thing. Microphones stuck in her face, in front of her wayward mouth, weren’t either.

  “Don’t they work for King’s?” The sugary voice held a well of underlying bitterness.

  “Yes, miss, as you know, they do. I knew them before.”

  “Really? And they know the judges, of course.”

  “I imagine they do. Well, two of them, at least.” Why so stuck on asking me questions? Next competitor, please.

  “Isn’t that interesting? Undue influence?”

  Pretty please? Move on! “Hardly.” If only she knew about Noah. She cringed. “That’s an interesting scarf you’re wearing. Is it from King’s?”

  Her hand went to the silky yellow flowered fabric. “Oh, my! Not from here!”

  “Yeah.” She scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t think so.”

  A beat of silence hung in the air. Her face paled and her mouth formed a large O. The woman’s cameraman popped his head up from behind the lens and gave Gretchen a wink.

  “King’s only supplies the best. Of everything.” There, Gretchen felt so much better about promoting the store. By the grins on Max and Danny, she’d scored big.

  “The prices!”

  “Quality can’t be beat!” Touché!

  Nervous chuckles erupted around her. “Kissing up, Gretch?” Caroline, one of the best contestants, asked. The middle-aged woman with the lovely skin smiled. “Everyone knows you have an in with the head honchoes here.”

  “Fat chance! If so, don’t you think I’d be the top dog in the contest rankings?”

  Max shook his head, giving her a thumbs-down. “No!” he mouthed. “Do not go there!”

  “Huh?” Gretchen squinted to try to read his lips.

  “He said, you crossed the line. As usual.” Caroline preened. “Now, about me? I’m a world-class baker, studied at the best and with the brightest. I am the one and only choice for the King’s baking contest winner.”

  The rest of them moaned. Gretchen bit her tongue.

  “And do you have connections here?”

  “Me? I live in this store. Every Wednesday, I park my, um, myself right here and watch the chefs perform. Wonderful to see! I’ve got my TV skills down to a science.” She fluffed her highlighted hair.

  “Indeed you do,” the news woman agreed. “Nice delivery and recovery.”

  “I’ve got it, I tell you.”

  The news reporter laughed right along with Caroline and gave her a few pointers on presentation. They bantered and seemed to get along like besties.

  Would this never end? Minutes dragged by agonizingly slow. Gretchen longed to beat her head against a wall—any wall—right about now.

  “Seriously?” Jana muttered under her breath, nudging Gretch. “Colors now? Are you an autumn or spring?”

  Gretchen laughed out loud. The talk halted abruptly. The two women stared at her as if she were demented. Maybe she was lately. Sleep deprived, worked to the bone, end of her rope— yep, losing it.

  Giggles took hold. And they wouldn’t let go of her. She cupped her hands over her mouth. Tears dribbled from the corners of her eyes. Around her, either people joined in or snickered at her. “Jan..na. Spring?” She doubled over, especially when her friend laughed along, elbowing her.

  Danny’s infectious chuckle reached her. Max followed along.

  Pointing to her friends now, they all lost it. Gretchen slid off the chair, boneless, and to the floor. “Stop! I gotta pee.”

  More people joined in now, egging her on.

  Suddenly, she looked up and saw the camera stuck in her face. “Oh, crud!” Nope, she didn’t do film well!

  Focusing on the red light now, she sobered. Yep, like a drunk with icy-cold water thrown on her, Gretchen froze. Her heart sank to her toes.

  Represent King’s? In their league?

  Epic fail!

  ***

  Gulping in great lungfuls of air, Gretchen leaned on the rough stone wall of the rooftop garden and then tilted her head back, so now she gazed up at the cloudless blue sky.

  It should calm her. But her riotous emotions still clamored at her nervous, defensive reaction to the news reporter’s questions.

  What have I done?

  “Good luck with being seen as professional ever again in this contest,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, that’s not likely.” Noah’s voice, so low and near, caused her to jump and jerk her head to see him just a yard away.

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Her lips barely budged into a stiff smile.

  “You held your own. Until you didn’t hold anything together.”

  “Not smart, right? Don’t answer. I already know it.” Gretchen blew out a breath. She made her way to a nearby stone bench. Sitting, she pulled her legs up and hugged her knees.

  Noah joined her just a few inches away. If she shifted even slightly, she could touch him. She refrained. Why ruin anything else today?

  When Danny had brought her here to de-stress, she’d barely acknowledged the beauty. Now, Gretchen looked around at the little oasis high above the bustling city below. Trees gently swayed in the warm breeze; pots and beds of flowers bloomed all around. Small tables with two chairs each were nestled in intimate areas. In the middle stood an amazing fountain with more flowers surrounding it. She’d heard of Annabelle’s creation, but words could not describe the lush retreat.

  “Peaceful sanctuary,” she whispered, afraid of disturbing the tranquility.

  “What happened? You were holding your own.”

  “I can handle hundreds of pastries for an order, negotiate with a dozen vendors to get a fair price, stay up round the clock baking to get the job done or just to create something incredible.” She paused. “But stick a mic or a camera in front of me and I ge
t…stage fright.”

  “Performance anxiety.” She could hear the edge of humor in his voice.

  “I thought that only happened to guys.” Gretchen bit the inside of her cheek.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.” He shot her a big grin.

  “Oh, Noah. I’m doomed.” She pressed her forehead to her raised knees, feeling a tear trickle from her eye and another one.

  Gently, he guided her so now her head lay against his shoulder and her legs were stretched out to hook over his thighs. Noah gathered her close.

  Gretchen tried to remain stiff and unrelenting; however, he tenderly rubbed her back and drew her in. How could a girl resist?

  By slow degrees, she gave up her staunch defense, relaxing into his side.

  “Cry. I’m tough. I can take it.”

  Laughing through tears she couldn’t repress, she clung to him. “I try so hard to take care of everyone. It was working. Well, kind of. Until lately. I thought I could win this contest and save the bakery and my family. Looks like that’s not going to happen.”

  He dropped a whisper-soft kiss on her hair. “It may not be perfect. Or even how you picture it. But you will care for them. The best you can do at that time.”

  “So wise? Wow! Who knew you had that in you, John Doe.”

  His chuckle rumbled through his chest, jarring her, yet stirring up delicious tingles throughout her body. “Ah, Gretchen. You make me realize there’s more to life than just business.”

  Looking up, she met his gaze, so green now and so intent on her. She gulped. He reached over and wiped the tears from her face with the pad of his thumb. “Are you going to kiss me?” Yeah, you should have kept that thought to yourself!

  “What do you think?”

  Achingly slow, he lowered his head to hers. She licked her lips, salty from her tears. He moaned, low and deep. The sound vibrated against her hand she pressed against his wide chest. When did that happen?

  He teased her with feather-like brushes of his lips—twice, three times—until her hunger grew. She cupped his head, sliding her fingers through the soft, dark waves, and then drawing him in closer. Her pulse hammered in her neck and blood whooshed in her ears.

 

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