I kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay, sweets. Let’s get cleaned up and off to work.”
She gives me a confused look but doesn’t say anything. What she doesn’t realize is that today I’m coming with her. I’m off at the diner, and I want to spend the day with my girl. Plus, my little baker wants to learn how to make my family’s secret recipe. It’s a perfect excuse to get to spend the day with her.
I lick my lips, admiring my girl in a pair of my running shorts and t-shirts. The shorts had to be cinched up tight, but there’s nothing that can make the shirt fit. It hangs off of her shoulder, showing an enticing amount of skin. Skin that I want to put my mouth on—skin that’s already slightly pink from my beard rubbing against her. My cock thickens at the reminder of how she got that beard burn… and all the other places my girl is wearing my marks.
“Quit looking at me like that, or I’ll never get to the bakery,” Margo scolds. The hooded look she gives me, and the spark in her green eyes tells me that she wants more too.
“Sugarhill can live without muffins for one day…”
She shakes her head. “You’re a menace. I’m already running late.”
I shrug entirely unrepentant. Never has a shower been so wonderful as one with Margo’s naked, soapy body rubbing all over mine. No man on Earth could resist such temptation—not that she put up any protest either.
“Let’s get going then, sweetness. Wouldn’t want to deny the townsfolk their muffins.”
She snorts a laugh but slips her shoes on and grabs her purse. “Glad it’s too dang early for anyone to see my walk of shame,” she says, waving her hand up and down her body.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her deeply. “Nothing shameful about leaving my bed.”
The dreamy look on her face says that she agrees. “You’re right. I’ve just never done the whole one-night stand thing…”
I growl, taking a handful of her wild black hair and fisting it. “This is not a one-night stand. This is just the start of a lot of nights.”
This is the start of forever, I think to myself.
Margo’s eyes widen. “Oh… I just thought…”
“Whatever you’re thinking, get it out of your mind right now. We’re not nearly over yet.”
Something in that bright-eyed smile she was wearing dims for some reason making her smile look a bit forced. “I need to get to the bakery.”
I give her one more quick kiss before leading her out to her car. I open the driver’s side door, helping her in before striding to the passenger side. I slide in without a word. It looks like she wants to ask why I’m in her car instead of taking my truck, but she just shrugs and starts the car.
It only takes a few minutes before she’s parking behind Sprinkled With Sugar. One of the many perks of small-town life. You can get anywhere you want to go in ten minutes or less. I guide her to the backdoor, not liking how dark it is back here. Yes, our town is relatively safe, but all the dark shadows behind the building scream danger. I make a note to fix that. My girl’s safety is my top priority.
Margo was shocked that I didn’t just kiss her and head to the diner. I explained that it was only fair that I stay and help since it’s my fault she’s starting the day late. She gives me a wolfish grin. She’s not one bit remorseful for the fact that she’s running behind. Especially not for such a worthy reason. And me touching, tasting, and taking her body is definitely a worthy cause. My half-hard cock certainly agrees.
The first thing Margo does is change out of my clothes into a spare set of jeans and Sprinkled With Sugar t-shirt she keeps in her office. I'm disappointed to see her out of my clothes. I love having her in my clothes, something I hope to see often.
I stand to one side of the kitchen, watching dough spin in an industrial sized mixer. She explained that she rarely uses it, preferring small batches, but today she has an order for three hundred cookies, making her small-batch preference impossible.
My attention is once again caught by Margo and how she moves around her kitchen. She’s like a choreographed dancer, moving from one task to another in a fluid, almost thoughtless motion. I can now understand why she put me in charge of this mixer, which needs zero supervision. I’m a distraction, and a hindrance to her perfectly choreographed dance. Despite my being in the way, she seems happy to have me here.
“It’s weird having someone else here,” she says out of the blue. “But I like it,” she quickly adds.
“I’ve always wondered why you don’t have Leanne in early to help you, but now I see,” I wave my hands around the kitchen, “this is your kingdom and no one else belongs in the queen’s chambers.”
She laughs. “I’m no queen, and a hot bakery kitchen is certainly not a royal kingdom.”
I cross the room to her and catch her up in my arms. “You’re most certainly a queen, and I am but your lowly servant.”
Her eyes go all soft with desire. Her pink tongue dashes out and licks her bottom lip. “You’re no servant… if anything, you’re the king.”
I growl, crushing my lips to hers. Our kiss quickly turns into an inferno between us. Her body lights up beneath my hands. My cock aches behind my zipper as she rubs against it. I break away, and we’re both breathless. “I’ll be your king, sweetness. You only have to ask.”
Her pillowy bottom lip disappears between her lips, trying to hide the smile that I love so much. The one that until recently, she kept hidden under shyness whenever I was around. She’s the one who kisses me this time, and once again, we fall into each other. This time when she pulls away, she’s flushed and heavily lidded—aroused.
One of her many timers buzzes, breaking apart the sexual fog we were both becoming lost to. She jumps to attention and skitters off and continues her flawless dance around the kitchen. Leaving me to scoop perfectly round balls of chocolate chip cookies onto a dozen pans.
“You really don’t have to stay and help. I’m sure you have things you need to get done at the diner.”
“I know I don’t have to stay. I want to. Besides, the diner is covered. I do get a day off every so often,” I say with a wink. “Something you need to work on doing.”
Margo scrunches up her nose. “I don’t work on Sunday’s. Well, I mean I go in to bake for the day, but Leanne does the rest.”
I laugh, “Sweetness, having to wake up at three in the morning makes your ‘day off’ argument null and void. I mean a full day where you just laze in bed and do whatever it is that you want to do.
“What if what I want to do is bake?” she asks, her brow furrowed.
I drop a kiss to the top of her head as I hug her close. “Then, you bake.”
She looks up at me with a wide smile. “What about staying in bed all day long with a sexy man?”
I can’t hold in my possessive growl. “As long as that sexy man is me, then yes.”
“That can be arranged,” she says with a playful smirk.
The bells above the door ring, announcing yet another customer. I knew the bakery was busy, but it’s busier than I ever knew. I turn to see who the intruder is and groan when I see Daisy. Not only is she a waitress at the diner, but she’s my mother’s best friend, which means everyone in town will know about Margo and me.
“Well, look who it is,” Daisy teases.
“Mornin’, Daisy,” Margo says brightly, not caring that she just caught us making out with my hands on her curvy ass.
“Good mornin’, darling. How are you this fine day?” she says, looking back and forth between Margo and me.
“I’m great. Thanks for asking,” Margo answers with a huge smile. A smile that I’m hoping is more for me than Daisy. “How are you?”
“Better now,” she replies with a smirk. She winks at me, and I groan. I know she’s going to make a big deal out of what she saw. And if not her, my mom certainly will. I have zero doubt that as soon as Daisy leaves, the first thing that busybody will do is call my mom.
“Do you want your usual?” Margo asks, looking sligh
tly confused by Daisy’s response.
“Yes, please. And one of those fancy coffees you make.”
“You bet.”
It takes only a couple minutes and several meaningful looks between Daisy and me to get her muffins and coffee. Daisy pays, leaving an extra big tip in the jar, giving me another smile. “See you tomorrow, boss man.”
“Bye, Daisy,” I growl.
She leaves cackling the whole way.
“She’s so sweet,” Margo says. She’s completely unaware of how quickly word of our interlude will blow up in the town. I hope she didn’t want our relationship to be discreet because that just flew right out the window.
5
Margo
It’s been two weeks. Two amazing weeks. Amos is everything I ever imagined he would be and so much more. I never thought we would find our way to each other. We danced around each other for a long time, and I never would have guessed that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. The girls were right about that, and I feel silly for ever doubting that.
My alarm goes off, and I stretch my deliciously sore body. Amos reaches across the bed and pulls me back against his chest. Oh, that’s another thing, we haven’t spent a single night without each other since that first night. We’re either at his house or mine. We’ve settled into a routine that makes my heart soar.
“Come back here, sweetness,” Amos growls in his sleep rough voice.
I protest half-heartedly like I do every morning when my alarm goes off but let him pull me close. I let out a cleansing breath. I love waking up with Amos. He never fails to give me extra cuddles… sometimes so much more. Again, zero complaints from me. Starting the day with a good orgasm is definitely a lovely boost of serotonin, better than any cup of coffee.
By the time I finally get out of bed, I’m running late. Before Amos, I hadn’t been late a day in my life. I hate being late to anything no matter how trivial—though work is definitely not trivial—now that I’m with Amos, I can’t find it in myself to feel anything other than happiness to run late. Even so, I rush through my morning routine. I’m only thirty minutes late when I get to Sprinkled With Sugar.
My phone dings with a text before I’ve even had time to turn and lock the door.
Amos. It’s always him. Lock the door, sweets.
My heart flip flops in my chest. It never fails; every single morning, he texts to remind me to lock the door behind me. Something I hate to admit, but I’m really lax with doing. When he realized that I rarely if ever, lock up after I get here, he growled his caveman growl and told me that I needed to take better care with his woman.
It’s locked, I reply.
Good. Need to make sure my girl is taking care of herself.
Swoon. I love it when he says stuff like that. Being Amos’ girl is about the best thing in the whole world. With a lightness in my heart that’s grown bigger and bigger every day, I start baking Sugarhill’s favorite morning treats.
I’ve barely unlocked the doors when my first customer of the day strides in and straight to me. He pulls me into a hug and kisses me soundly. That’s another thing that’s changed. Amos is always my first customer. He comes and kisses me breathless, leaving me wet and needy, then he takes the diner’s order and leaves with a smile… sometimes he whistles.
Both of us are stupid levels of happy. I chew on my lip when I think about how things are about to change. His parents are visiting for a week starting tomorrow. Tonight’s the last night, I get to fall asleep and wake up in Amos’ arms. He tells me I’m being ridiculous that it won’t matter to his parents if I’m there every night, but this trip is incredibly important to Amos and his family, and I don’t want to be an interloper.
His dad’s health is declining rapidly, and he has more bad days than good lately. He wanted to spend time in his hometown before he completely loses his mind to Alzheimer’s. I’m extremely nervous about meeting them for the first time as Amos’ girlfriend.
Of course, I’ve known them since my family moved here when I was in second grade, but this is different. Before I was just Margo Schultz, now I’m Margo Schultz, girlfriend to their only baby. Logically, I know his parents already like me… but what if they don’t think I’m good enough for their son? That would be devastating.
My mood grows somber at that. When I told him my worries, he laughed it off and said I'm being ridiculous, that his parents already love me. He said his mom is over the moon that we are dating. Apparently, his mom has been trying to set him up for years, so she’s thrilled.
I’m busy in Amo’s kitchen, baking the infamous burnt sugar pie the entire town is in love with. Another thing I’m worried about, what if his parents are upset that Amos gave me the secret family recipe? I brush it off. Even though he told me I could start selling it in the bakery, I haven’t. I refused vehemently. This is a Burnt Sugar Diner exclusive, and I refuse to mess with that. He thinks I’m being ridiculous, but I’m sticking to my guns on that one.
There’s a brisk knock at the door, and heart starts pounding—time to meet the parents. Trudy, Amos’ mother, wraps me up in a huge hug the moment she sees me. In fact, she completely bypasses her son to hug me. I look over Trudy’s shoulder with a wide-eyed surprise at Amos.
He mouths, “Told you so.”
And he did. All of my nerves slip away into her warm embrace. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a mom hug. There’s something special about mom hugs. My own mom and dad packed up to travel the world shortly after they retired. We talk often, but it’s been almost a year since they’ve been home. Embarrassingly, my eyes burn with tears. Amos gives me a worried look, but I minutely shake my head, letting him know that everything is fine.
I’m shocked when his dad wraps me up in another hug. I never expected such a warm and enthusiastic greeting. All of my nervousness seems silly now. Dinner is great. Trudy and Alan regale me with stories of Amos as a boy and how much trouble he and my best friend’s husband, Torin, got into. I can tell both Amos and Trudy are happy that Alan is having such a good day. He’s completely lucid and happily talking about the past like it was just yesterday. I was warned that the days are rarely all good and to be prepared for his confusion.
The evening flies by, and before I know it, I’m hugging Trudy and Alan goodbye, and Amos is walking me out to my car.
“Are you sure you won’t stay?” he asks grumpily.
“I don’t want to give your parents the wrong idea about me. Right now, I’m the girlfriend. If I stay the night, that could change. What if your parents think I’m a hussy?”
He laughs at that. “First of all, who even says ‘hussy’ anymore?”
I stomp my foot and cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t tease me!”
He pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “Sorry, sweets. I just hate not spending the night with you in my arms.”
“Me too. I want to stay, I do, but I just can’t risk your parents thinking less of me. I want them to like me… in case this thing blows up.”
He growls at that. “Nothing is going to blow up with us unless you consider explosive orgasms blowing up, then yes, we’ll be blowing up over and over.”
I shiver at the reminder of how we are together. He’s not wrong about the whole exploding thing. Every time is epic. Heck, it gets better with every time we have sex. Our chemistry is off the charts.
He opens my car door and kisses me so fiercely I’m panting by the time he pulls away. I know what he’s doing. He’s showing me exactly what I’m going to be missing by leaving. As if I don’t already know.
“Text me when you get home, sweets.”
It’s easy to agree, even easier to give in to another kiss. My entire body is on fire with need as I pull out of his drive and head home. My house is empty and feels cold without Amos’ presence in it. He’s the kind of guy that fills up a space. Not obtrusively. It’s just a feeling of security and a lack of aloneness. I miss him immediately and completely.
I take a lonely shower—so
mething else that I rarely do anymore—and crawl under my blankets, alone. I sleep fitfully, missing Amos’ warm weight against my back. It worries me a little that I’m so attached after only two weeks. We went from zero to one hundred, but it doesn’t feel like it. Everything is so comfortable between us that it feels natural.
Waking up isn’t any better than going to sleep alone. It doesn’t help that I laid wide awake for hours. I feel a bit like a zombie. Coffee does nothing to wake me up. Somehow, I know that a dose of Amos will help wake me up, unlike my coffee. I grab all of my stuff and head into work.
My phone dings as soon as I get to the bakery. I smile, knowing it’s going to be Amos telling me to lock up. My heart flutters when I read the message: Lock up, sweetness. I miss you.
I miss you too. I couldn’t sleep without you.
I have an ‘oh crap’ moment when I realize what I just sent him, but then realize I don’t care if it’s too soon in our relationship to mention things like that. Not with Amos. He’s not the type to freak out over feelings.
Likewise, love. I don’t like being apart from you.
I thought I liked being his sweetness? Being his love? Wow. Yeah, that does something to me that I never thought I’d feel. Butterflies swarm my stomach, my heart is racing, and I’m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. All the sleepiness disappears, and I’m floating on cloud nine.
No, he didn’t say he loves me… but as far as I’m concerned, that’s step one. I’m pretty sure I’m already on step three or four. Well, if there were steps to follow to get to such a strong emotion.
I’m so distracted that I burn two trays full of muffins and have to do them again. It’s entirely unlike me to let anything distract me from my baking, but Amos is undoubtedly a worthy distraction if ever there were one.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask Leanne for the tenth time.
She rolls her eyes. “Margo, I’ve got this. I’ve been here for months. You can trust me to do one morning shift.”
Earning Her Love (Sweet Somethings Book 2) Page 3