Sighing at the impasse, I leaped for my phone when it chimed.
Cruz: Can I swing by?
Me: Yes, pleeeeease.
Maybe Mom would ease up if Cruz was around.
Two seconds later, a knock sounded from my front door. Shrugging at my parents’ inquisitive looks, I flung the door open.
“Are you doing all right?” Cruz asked, leaning down to check my wrist.
“Yes, and that was fast.” I leaned toward him. “Did you use magic to get here?” I whispered.
Cruz snorted. “No, a car.” He jerked his thumb toward the black Rolls-Royce in my driveway. “I’m not a boy wizard.”
“Huh,” I said. “Could have fooled me.”
“You’re a saucy one this afternoon,” Cruz laughed.
“Three hours of my mom trying to convince me I need to stay in my childhood bedroom so she can keep an eye on me because of a nonexistent wrist injury will do that to a person,” I grumped.
“Cruz!” my mom called behind me. “Lexi, invite him in. Where are your manners?”
I groaned and Cruz winked at me as he stepped inside and brushed past me to say hello to my parents.
“Lexi here said you took good care of her,” my dad stated.
“Is that so?” Cruz replied.
“We appreciate you taking her to the hospital, Cruz. Knowing Lexi, she wouldn’t have gone. She’s got a stubborn streak in her. Don’t let the cheerful disposition fool you,” my mom warned, grinning.
“Not this one.” Cruz smiled indulgently my way.
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “You’re just like them,” I accused, jerking my head toward my parents. “And I’m not a breakable doll, you know. I’ve got grit.” I straightened my spine and puffed out my chest a little.
“Is that so?” Cruz’s white teeth flashed quickly before he tilted his head. “You’re something else.”
“Well, your mom and I should probably be going,” my dad said, nudging Mom toward the door. “We can see you’re in safe hands.”
Cruz crossed his arms over his chest. “You can bet on it.”
“Someone’s a little less of a grump than he was at the hospital,” I teased, hugging my parents goodbye.
“Hey, I was just making sure they were doing their jobs,” Cruz reasoned, shaking my dad’s hand.
He’d barked at the nurse for not getting a doctor in to see me fast enough. He’d then yelled at the doctor for pumping the blood pressure cuff too tight and making me wince. I’d eventually had to suggest he’d be better off sitting in the lobby until I was given the all-clear, but he refused.
“Have a good evening, you two,” my mom called from the car as Cruz and I waved from the doorway.
I sighed, watching them drive away. “Is it possible for parents to be too caring?”
Cruz chuckled. “You’re lucky. Your parents are great. I wish I had parents like that.”
“Yeah, they’re okay most of the time,” I agreed, tugging at my hair. “But sometimes they forget that I’m twenty-three, not twelve.”
“You’re their only kid. It’s kind of sweet,” Cruz surmised, picking up my hand and examining my wrist. “Does it hurt?” His right hand slid gently over my left one.
“Not even a little. I was lucky to have landed the way I did, but we both know you’re to thank for that shot of magic.”
“It was nothing,” Cruz said, throwing a ball for Nutmeg to fetch while we stood on the porch.
“It was more than nothing,” I argued, my heart melting at the sight of a laid-back Cruz playing fetch with Nutmeg.
“That’s a good boy. You’re such a good boy,” he crooned, ruffling the dog’s hair and tossing the ball again. “What’s that over there?” He pointed toward a small shack nearly hidden behind a section of trees as Nutmeg ran toward it to retrieve the ball.
“Probably gardening stuff,” I answered, shrugging. I tried to keep my voice nonchalant, but my stomach dropped for a second. That was a subject we would not be discussing. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Come on, I’ll make us something,” I offered, walking back into the house.
“You should be taking it easy on the wrist,” Cruz chastised.
“You fixed it,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t baby it for at least an evening,” Cruz responded, joining me in the kitchen.
“But I have to bake tonight. You know, so I can drop things off at the sanatorium tomorrow.”
Cruz frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe you should take a day off.”
I crossed my arms. “No way.”
Cruz studied me a moment. “Okay, fine. Let’s compromise,” he said, lifting his finger to my lips before I could argue. “You let me help.”
“You want to bake?” My eyes widened in disbelief.
Cruz shrugged. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve got the best of the best as a teacher. I can’t mess it up.”
Laughter bubbled up as I watched him tie an apron around his waist. “Sucking up to the teacher, huh? I like you already.”
“I should hope so,” Cruz said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Okay, you can help, but you have to listen. I’m the boss in the kitchen,” I announced.
Cruz shot me a delicious grin. “I wouldn’t expect anything different, Sunshine.”
I sized him up. “We’ll start easy. I’ve got a few frozen batches of cookies. Take your pick.” I pointed to the freezer, knowing my face was starting to turn red from his remarks.
Cruz grunted as half of him disappeared into the deep freeze, his backside protruding into the air. A black belt snaked around his loose-fitting dark jeans, and the band of his red boxers poked out the top. “They’re probably way at the bottom,” I told him, wishing I had my phone on me so I could snap a photo to remember this moment.
Because there won’t be many more of these moments, my mind shouted.
“Found them,” Cruz announced, extracting himself from the yawning mouth of the kitchen appliance. He turned and grinned, causing my thoughts to dissipate. “Did you check out my ass?” he asked, eyes twinkling. “I found the cookies, like, thirty seconds ago, but I wanted to give you a little extra time for viewing pleasure.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, fanning my face with my hands. Cruz shot me a cocky wink.
I spent the next hour instructing Cruz the do’s and don’ts of baking frozen cookies. He’d tried to pop them in the microwave to defrost, which was a definite don’t. I also had to explain that cookies needed space to grow, so Cruz had to unstack them from the pile he’d essentially dumped them in on the cookie sheet.
“Huh. There’s a lot more to this baking stuff than I thought,” Cruz said, tasting his handiwork. “Not bad. Must have been the teacher.” He winked at me as I bit into a brown sugar cookie.
“You’re a pretty good student,” I complimented. “Maybe we should do this again, but from scratch.”
“Let’s not get crazy,” Cruz teased as his phone buzzed. He sighed and looked at the screen. “Yes, Aimee?” he said as he hit the speakerphone button.
“Alex wants to know where you are,” Aimee burst out in a huff. “Should I bloody tell him you are playing nursemaid to—”
Cruz quickly punched a button on the phone and held it to his ear so I couldn’t hear. I choked on my cookie, earning a stern look from Cruz.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. Just one interview tonight, right?” He listened as he grabbed another maple cookie. “All right. Bye.” He slid the phone into his pocket.
“Nursemaid, huh? I’m not sure how that would go over with your fans,” I joked, spreading my hands wide as I mimed a headline. “I can just see it. ‘Crazy Cruz Trades Leather Jacket for Apron.’”
He looked down and hastily removed the apron. “They’ll never find out,” he said, creeping toward me. “No intrusive photographers here.”
I smiled up at him. “I appreciate everythi
ng you’ve done the last few days. You’ve kept me company while my friends are away and you’ve made sure I was taken care of.” I examined my wrist, still impressed with his skills. “You’re the best.”
“Yeah?” Cruz’s warm fingers brushed against my chin before trailing along my jaw and behind my head. I closed my eyes as he massaged my scalp. I softly brushed my lips against his. “Thank you, Cruz.”
He smiled at me before leaning in to kiss me more thoroughly, the sweetness of the maple cookie combining with the brown sugar of mine. We were an intoxicating combination.
“Anytime, Sunshine.”
His phone buzzed, but the look in Cruz’s eyes let me know we were far from finished. He snatched up a cookie container from the counter and kissed me one last time, drawing the metal bar in his tongue over mine. A throaty moan escaped my lips, and I wasn’t even a tiny bit mortified.
Cruz pulled away and cocked his head to the side. “And on that note, I better go.” He brushed some flour from my face and walked out the door.
I braced myself against the counter.
Things weren’t so black and white any longer.
I had it bad for him.
CHAPTER 15
“Well, that’s that,” I said to myself as I wiped a cloth across the sugar-covered counter later that night.
Thankfully, I had a few online orders on Sweet Stuff’s website, so I was able to keep my mind occupied. In reality, all I wanted to do was think about Cruz, and his smell, and his mischievous eyes … and a few other things. He was funny and kind and handsome.
But he was leaving soon. His entire job was on the road, filming. My unofficial job required I stay in Sage Springs. I was torn on how to proceed. I could feel myself getting caught up in Cruz’s charm, but I knew I was destined to end up with a broken heart if I allowed myself to wander down that path. I groaned, locking eyes with Nutmeg.
“Life’s not always so easy, huh, big guy?” I said to him. He let out a sorrowful howl and flopped onto his doggy bed. “Tell me about it,” I sighed.
At least I had baking, which soothed my soul. It was my go-to relaxation, and it always made me feel at least a little bit better. I placed the lid on the last tub of biscotti I was taking over to the TV crew tomorrow and fell onto the couch.
I needed some mindless entertainment, so I picked up my phone and scrolled through some of my favorite celebrity sites. Reading about other people’s problems was way better than thinking about my own.
I froze at the top story on celebrity gossip Shana Vincent’s website.
Mystery Blonde Tames Crazy Cruz’s Heart?
It’s looking like our very own Cruz Drakov has been snatched up by a small-town woman on the set of his latest shoot. We’re looking into the situation—and any dirt we can dig up. However, as apparent in the photograph below, the host of Cruz’s Fearsome Phantoms has been sighted holding hands with this tiny blonde. Rest assured, we’ll have more information as soon as we uncover it. One thing is for sure: The recently sullen-looking Cruz seems to have found someone to grab his attention. He’s not looked this happy in a long time, friends.
In the first photo Cruz was watching me with a huge grin on his face, his eyes lit with humor as I looked ahead, mouth open as if in mid-sentence as we walked toward the grocery store in Sage Springs hand in hand.
The second photo was of Cruz and me kissing at our table in Clove Crossing. A chaste kiss, but seeing our intimate moment splashed for the world to see gave me the heebie-jeebies.
Scrolling down, I saw there were more than a hundred comments accompanying the post.
DarkGrl72: Nice to see Cruz happy. Lucky blonde. I wonder who she is.
HotForCruz22: She looks a little thick for Cruz’s tastes. I give them two weeks.
“Sheesh,” I muttered, tossing the phone to the other side of the couch. “I am not thick. I’m healthy.”
A knock interrupted my thoughts. Feeling a little less than stellar, I peeked out the curtain.
“You have mean fans,” I greeted Cruz once I let him in. He slid inside and quirked his eyebrows.
“How so?” he asked.
I walked back to the couch and held up my phone.
“You were looking yourself up online?” His eyebrows shot higher.
“Of course not. I was checking the websites I normally do when I’m bored, and this caught my attention.” I allowed him to pull me onto the couch as he read the blog post. “They don’t even know me,” I huffed.
“You shouldn’t read this trash, Lexi,” he advised, raking a hand over his face. “It’s not worth it.”
“One of them called me thick!” I blurted.
“Who cares what some punk hiding behind a screen name—”
“HotForCruz22,” I interrupted.
He rolled his eyes. “The point is, they don’t know what they’re talking about. I mean, look at you. You’re hot as hell.” His eyes skimmed over me, causing me to pull a throw over my bare shoulders. I frowned up at him. “Listen to me, you’re tiny and curvy in all the right places.” He slid an arm around me and squeezed. “Trust me.”
“Thanks, but I know I’m cute,” I replied, causing Cruz to chuckle. I was mature enough to be able to be honest about my looks, and I was pretty cute, but not movie star gorgeous like he usually dated. “Your fans want to ‘punch me in the throat’—and I’m quoting here—for holding your hand.”
He sighed. “My fans are kind of eccentric. Comes with the territory,” he said as he wrapped me up in the fluffy blanket. “Why do you even read those things?”
I shrugged. “It’s a different kind of life, I guess. All this ritzy stuff being talked about and beautiful people being photographed. It’s a far cry from Sage Springs.” I placed my head on his shoulder as I spoke. “Like, just last week they had this whole piece on celebrities with sunburns.”
“Riveting,” Cruz said dryly. “It’s all trash.”
“Are you saying none of the stuff online is true?” I questioned, listening to his even breathing while I rested against him.
“People can say anything they want and plaster it online, Lexi,” Cruz answered.
“I know, but don’t you think a lot of it stems from a kernel of truth?” I reasoned.
“No,” Cruz said simply. “And you’d be wise to remember that.”
“You seem tired … and grumpy,” I said, sitting up to get a good look at him. “You didn’t have to stop by, but I’m glad you did.” I dropped a kiss on his lips in thanks.
“The cast starts shooting tomorrow, so I wanted to get in all the time with you I could.”
Before you leave, I finished his unspoken words.
I ran my palm along his chest. “Can you tell me who the celebs are yet?” I asked, my tone hopeful.
Cruz’s lips formed a straight line, expression neutral. “What do I get out of it?” He traced a finger along my chin and down my throat. If I hadn’t been so stoked at the possibility of finding out which stars would be breathing the same air as me in Sage Springs, I probably would have been putty in his hands.
“Huh-uh,” I giggled, pulling from his grasp. “Don’t try to use your assets to distract me.”
Cruz rested his head against the back of the couch and sighed dramatically. “I’m losing my touch.”
Laughing, I stood and plucked a plate from the counter and handed it to him. “Maybe this will cheer you up. Chocolate biscotti, mint chip cookies, and cherry cookies for your troubles.”
“Just so you know, bribing me with your baked goods isn’t really fair, but I’ll play,” Cruz answered after swallowing a biscotti.
“Tell me, tell me, tell me,” I said eagerly, dropping down to the couch and cuddling up in the blanket next to Cruz.
“You already know about Starla Stigmata,” Cruz began, watching me with a playful grin on his lips.
“I still can’t believe it.” The squeal I let out caused Nutmeg, who’d been resting in his doggy bed, to jump up, alert. “Sorry, Nutmeg.” Cruz t
ossed a piece of cherry cookie into the air and caught it with his mouth. “Who else?” I quizzed.
“Erin Denzin.”
“The clothing designer?” I gasped.
“Yeah, she’s looking for some publicity after that incident with the paparazzi.”
I nodded sagely. Erin had used her stilettos to try to knock a camera from a paparazzo’s hands. She’d taken out his eye instead.
“Tommy Hillsdale also flew in today.”
“Where are they staying?”
“Some overpriced hotel in Kansas City.”
“So, Starla, Erin, Tommy, and …” I trailed off, my eyes begging for more.
“Bianca.”
“Ugh, lame. And she’s not a celebrity,” I complained.
“Yeah, well, after you ‘connect’ with the right people, anything is possible,” Cruz said sarcastically, using air quotes. “Wasn’t my call. Her agent worked out a deal with Alex. Anyway, she’s from here, so it offers a local spin.”
“But she pretends she can’t see ghosts,” I argued, knowing full well Bianca would rather get a fifteen-dollar haircut than admit she could communicate with spirits.
Cruz shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t have to tell anyone she can really see them. She just has to run around and scream at the appropriate time.”
“Double lame,” I pouted. “But whatever. I wish I could hang out with them.” Jodie had me sign a form stating I understood I couldn’t be on set when the crew was shooting the celebrities. Confidentiality issues.
“Your wish is my command,” Cruz announced, bowing his head. “The show is hosting a private dinner to thank the celebrities tomorrow, and guess who I’ll be escorting?” His eyes danced with mirth.
“Me?!” I squeaked, clasping my hands to my chest.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You have the best job ever!” I hummed, sighing with happiness.
“Glad someone thinks so,” he mumbled.
“What do you mean?” I asked, taking the plate from his lap and putting it on the coffee table.
“It doesn’t matter.” He ran his hands over his scruffy face. I could tell he was exhausted by the circles ringing his eyes.
“Out with it.” I reached for his hand and squeezed in encouragement.
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