by Jo Raven
“We’ll find out in a minute, sweet.” A moment later, we pulled into a parking spot at the end of the block.
My blood pressure rose as I looked down the street at the milling crowd outside the bakery and all three fire trucks lined up outside. Hysterical laughter began to bubble in my chest. “How many firemen does it take to stop a gas leak?” I joked, as Kennedy opened my door and helped me down.
“One to turn the knob and ten to pat him on the back when he’s done.” Kennedy’s smile was tight, and I couldn’t miss the concern in his eyes. He knew without me having to tell him how important the bakery was to me, and he also knew that I was in a fragile mindset until I got my answers.
“Come on, sweet. Let’s go see what the boys have to say.”
Slipping my hand into his, I took a deep breath and let it out. Then I put one foot in front of the other.
Chapter 11
I stood on the sidewalk between Kennedy and Jack, staring at the front of Sweetest Temptations, dumbfounded.
“We only found one burner on, but for the amount of gas it leaked, I’d say it had to have been going for an hour or two, minimum.”
“That’s not possible,” I muttered, peering through the glass to the empty dining area. All that business, gone. Shaking my head, I set my eyes on Jack’s, unable to look at the shop any longer. “I haven’t been in since last night.”
“Well, maybe your friend decided to bake something?”
“Who, Dexter?” I scoffed. “The only thing Dex knows how to make is burned toast. He orders all his food. There is no reason for him to enter the kitchen.”
“Well,” Jack said, scratching the back of his head, “I’m just telling you what we found. The knob was turned to the on position. Just enough to spill gas but not light the burner. Someone could have bumped it, or maybe you didn’t turn it all the way off last night. All I can tell you is to be more careful in the future.”
“Yeah, okay.” I could feel my mood plummeting, frustration making me grouchy. “So, what do we do now? Should I close up for the day? Is it even safe to turn on the ovens?”
“Everything is fine. Just prop the front and back doors open to let the place air out, and make sure the burners are all the way off when you’re done using them.” With a friendly smile and a wave, Jack told Kennedy he’d see him later and wished me a nice afternoon. As I watched the trucks pull away, I can’t say that I was feeling all that optimistic that it would be. But I pasted on a smile, squared my shoulders, and went inside.
“All things aside, it could have been worse,” Kennedy said as he followed in behind me.
“You’re right.” I sighed as I walked a circuit around the dining floor, picking up stray pieces of garbage that had been left behind in haste. “The place could have burned down. Or exploded.” All things considered, it was a blessing that the place still stood intact and no one had been hurt.
“Exploded? Was that really a possibility?” Dex strolled in, his expression pinched with worry.
Kennedy rushed to reassure him. “Explosions are highly unlikely in these cases. I’d be more worried about carbon-monoxide poisoning or death by chocolate.” He winked at me. I felt a smile creep into place.
This man… He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My chest felt tight just looking at him.
I shook my head as I set back to work. “Well, I know from now on, I’m going to keep a closer eye on things,” I said from behind the counter. Thinking back, I could have sworn I’d turned everything off before heading out for the evening, but couldn’t say for certain.
I left the guys in the front, while I headed back to the kitchen. Despite what Jack had said, I had to see it for myself. The crime scene. Exhibit A: the burners. Going straight for the wall of ovens, I began checking the knobs. Grabbing each one, I gave them a little twist to be sure they worked like they were supposed to. Normally, they had to be pushed in and then turned to operate them, but if Jack was right and one had gotten bumped in passing, then I needed to find out which one it was.
Four ovens and sixteen knobs later, I hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed to be in perfect working order. Which left me scratching my head. I should have asked Jack if he could show me which one it was.
Could I have overlooked turning one off all the way? I didn’t think so. I was always so careful in the kitchen, and my routine was to check everything twice before leaving at the end of the night. Something like that should have stood out. Not to mention, wouldn’t I have smelled it then? And what about Dex? Surely he would have noticed if it’d been going on that long. Jack said the levels they found would have taken an hour or two to accumulate. It just didn’t add up.
Heading back to the front of the shop, I found Dex and Kennedy standing at the counter talking. “Hey, Dex? Did you smell anything when you opened this morning?”
“Besides baked goods? No, why?”
My eyes narrowed and I dropped his gaze. This just didn’t make sense. For an hour or two of gas build-up to catch people’s attention, it would have been much worse had it been going on all night. It couldn’t have been my mistake then. “What about someone else going back there? Did you let anyone else into the kitchen?”
Dex looked at me as if I were crazy. “No, of course not.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked around, unable to shake the feeling that there was something I was missing. There had to be more going on here—something we had missed. “Are you sure you didn’t let anyone past the counter?”
“I told you…” Dawning lit his eyes. “Wait, I take that back. There was the one lady. She asked to use the bathroom. But she was older, and she’s a regular. I know the rules are no one behind the counter, but in this case, I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Little woman with gray hair? Pulls it back in a rain cap?”
“Mrs. Findlay. You know her?”
I nodded. He was right, she was a regular, and she was nice. I couldn’t see her trying to blow up my business. During our last talk, it was clear to me that she loved the place.
“You know this woman?” Kennedy came to stand in front of me and gripped my shoulders.
I looked at him levelly. “I don’t know her, exactly, but she’s here nearly every day. She was married to the original owner.” A little detail I’d found out from Dex, who she’d taken a liking to. He’d even talked her into buying instead of loitering, which was a marked improvement, in my opinion.
“So you’ve talked to her. Do you trust her?”
I shrugged. “Just once, and I wouldn’t say that. I hardly know her, but I can’t see her doing anything malicious. She seems nice.” If not a little lonely. It was the main reason why I made an exception that night, allowing her to use the Employee Only restroom.
He looked like he didn’t believe me. “Well, until we’re certain nothing untoward is going on, I think you should stick to the no-public-bathroom policy.”
“Untoward?” I chuckled.
“It’s the word of the day on my word calendar.” Bending down, Kennedy stole a quick kiss. “Now, what do you say we head back and get started on those cookies? We have a lot of time to make up for.”
I groaned as he steered me by the shoulders toward the kitchen. “Hold down the fort,” I called out to Dex.
“Aye aye, Captain!”
Once in the kitchen, Kennedy guided me to the counter, and then bent at the waist. Fitting his hands under my arms, he picked me up and plopped me down on the stainless steel counter. “Ow! Freaking A, Harper, that hurt.” I grimaced, massaging my armpits. Either I was too fat to still be lifted like a child, or I had discovered a form of child abuse.
“Sorry, sweet,” Kennedy said with contrition. “Next time I’ll scoop you up like a lady instead.”
“Screw treating me like a lady. I want to see what the fireman’s hold is all about.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Kennedy laughed. “I like how you think, woman.” With another ki
ss that was far too short and innocent, he set to work gathering everything he needed to whip up his secret snickerdoodle recipe.
Under strict instruction, I sat, restlessly kicking my legs and craning my neck to peer over his shoulder, as he baked. It was a long and arduous process during which I discovered that I could survive precisely one hour and twenty-two minutes before needing a sugar fix to avoid a headache, and that I had an acute case of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder with a possible hyperactive tendency. Sitting and waiting was for the birds! I needed to be involved. Active. Shoulder deep in flour and eggs.
“Okay, enough sitting around,” I announced with a clap of my hands. Jumping down from the counter, I set my hands on my hips. “Give me something to do. Need help mixing? I’m your girl. Or I could roll the balls?”
Kennedy gave me a wicked look over his shoulder, and I realized what I had said. “You can roll the balls all you want, sweet.”
“Dirty, dirty boy, you are.” Wagging my finger, I crossed to the first oven and stuck my hands in a pair of mitts. “These are ready to come out.” Without waiting for instruction, I pulled the two trays out and stuck another two in. “They look really great,” I told Kennedy as I scraped the golden mounds onto cooling racks.
“They are great.” Coming up behind me, he reached around to select one, and then held it up to my mouth. “Here, try one.”
Turning to face him, I held his eyes as I sank my teeth into the cookie. The moan that ripped from me was unintentional and completely genuine. I’d tasted some great desserts in my lifetime—had made most of them myself—but Kennedy’s cookies were positively sinful. Soft, moist, and chewy, the flavors were simple but definitely not lacking.
“Good, huh?”
“God, they’re perfect.” I bit off another chunk, closing my eyes as I savored the flavors. Crystalized sugar and cinnamon all wrapped around a sugar cookie. Here I was, thinking I needed to come up with something complicated and fancy, when in reality, something as simple as this would easily knock those ideas out of the park. “People are going to go insane over these. I’ll end up having to make you a partner just so I can steal your recipe.”
“No need to give me half the business,” Kennedy said, feeding me another cookie. “I’ve been known to talk in my sleep. Stick around long enough and I’m bound to spill all my secrets.”
“Mmm, what are you doing tonight?”
“Hopefully, you.” Slanting his mouth over mine, Kennedy kissed me. Throwing my arms around his neck, I sank into his hard lines and wrapped my tongue around his. This was going to be the start of something beautiful.
Chapter 12
“Oh my gosh, it’s hideous!” Like a girl, I screamed and fluttered my hands in the air as I danced around, keeping as close to the wall as possible. “Kill it! Kill it!”
Kennedy, dressed only in a pair of boxers, ripped a paper towel from the roll. Brushing past, he squinted into the overhead light fixture. “I don’t see anything.”
“There! Right there!” I pointed and shrieked. All I had wanted to do was make Kennedy a nice dinner to express my thanks for all the wonderful orgasms he’d given me all evening. But, right in the middle of searching for a pan, I’d come face-to-face with a giant, hairy black spider dangling from the ceiling.
“What, that little dot?” It wasn’t until he reached up and smashed it that I took my first real breath. “Look at it,” he said, turning toward me. “I can’t believe you’re scared of this little thing.”
I hate to admit to any kind of defeat or instances of weakness, but spiders had always been and always would be my arch nemesis. One look at the crumpled paper towel as he extended his arm toward me, and I ran screaming.
“Babe, where are you going?”
The bastard was laughing at my expense as he chased me around the apartment, dodging around furniture and leaping over coffee tables in my haste to get away. From the look in Kennedy’s gorgeous eyes—so malicious, so evil—I knew he was getting off on scaring the piss out of me. I couldn’t believe I’d given my body to such a cruel monster. In my defense, he was insanely hot, and no woman, least of all me, could be expected to turn down such perfection.
Cornered between the couch and loveseat, I weighed my options and, allowing Kennedy to make the first move, I burst into motion. The bathroom door stood wide open and I raced toward it. Kennedy’s reaction time was one for the books. In a heartbeat, he’d snagged the back of my shirt and sent me reeling backward into his hard chest.
I screamed and struggled in his arms, the thought of that squished creepy crawly near me becoming something straight out of nightmares. Despite all my struggling, the only thing I accomplished was tired muscles and an acute case of breathlessness.
“Chill, sweet.” Kennedy spoke into my ear, his voice low and soothing.
“Get that thing away from me.”
“I don’t even have it.” I heard his soft chuckling as he held out his hands for me to inspect. “You’re freaking out over nothing.”
Slapping his hands away, I stumbled out of reach. “You’re a jerk. See if I make you dinner again.” Lifting my chin, I marched into the kitchen to whip up something for myself that would make Kennedy’s mouth water, but he’d never taste.
As I pulled out the carton of eggs and gallon of milk, Kennedy’s strong arms wrapped around me from behind. His chin pressed into my shoulder as he squeezed me closer. “It’s my day off. I should be cooking for you.”
I was already shaking my head. Since I’d started experimenting in the kitchen at the ripe age of nine, I’d owned that space. “Like you said, it’s your day off. Not to mention, you’re a guest in my house, which is why I’ll be the one cooking.” After locating all my ingredients and laying them out on the counter, I went to the sink to scrub up. Kennedy was right there beside me, handing me a towel.
“When was the last time you took a day off? Go sit down. I’m cooking tonight.”
“I’m starting a business. There’s no such thing as a day off right now.”
With a swat on the butt and a warning look, I took the not-so-subtle hint and plopped my rear onto a bar stool with a huff. I had to admit, the change of scenery was kinda nice. A man in the kitchen, cooking for me? This should be interesting.
With my chin propped on my hands, I watched Kennedy prepare vegetables and meat, adding them to a large skillet to create a stir-fry. As he moved on to the rice, I took note of his use of spices for future reference. If the smell was any indication of what to expect, I was in for a treat.
“You’re really good at this stuff. Do you get a lot of practice at the fire station?”
Kennedy’s mouth twitched as he stood, shirtless, in front of the stove. Good lord, he was amazing to look at. All those yummy muscles on display. My mouth watered for something other than food. “I’ve picked up a few things there, yeah. But, in general, I like to cook. I like knowing what I’m putting into my body.”
I felt my eyebrows rise. “Tell me you’re not one of those health nuts. If you say a word about my cookie eating habits, I swear I’ll shove my size nine up your ass.”
“Ouch, and no. I just prefer making my own food whenever I can. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes with doing it yourself. I’m sure you can relate.”
I could. Part of what I loved most was working with my hands. When I came up with a new recipe—and it worked—the sense of pride that came with it was unparalleled. I watched, rapt, as Kennedy tended to the foods, his strong hands expertly stirring, flipping, and whipping. Not a speck of grease dared leap from the pan to scald that bronzed skin, and despite the heat kicking off the stovetop, he hadn’t broken a sweat either. “Seriously, are you a robot? There’s no way you’re this perfect.” I thanked him as he handed me a plate piled with teriyaki steak and vegetables on a bed of fried rice.
“I’d hardly call myself perfect,” Kennedy said as he sat down beside me.
Holding up my hand, I ticked off my fingers with each point made. “
You have a steady job. You know how to cook and bake. You’re thoughtful and considerate. You have a sense of humor that doesn’t weird me out. You’re ridiculously hot. Seriously, what is wrong with you? I have to be missing something, because no one is this perfect.”
Smirking, Kennedy shook his head as he fluffed his rice with his fork. “Nobody’s perfect, least of all me, but if you’re looking for skeletons in my closet, you won’t find any.”
“So you’re not hiding a wife and kids in another state?”
“Nope.”
“The FBI isn’t looking for you?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“You don’t moonlight as a cross dresser?”
“Only once back in high school, but that was a bet.”
I made a mental note to return to that one later. “So you’re really just an average guy? What you see is what you get?”
“Precisely.”
Huh. Taking a bite of my food, I chewed thoughtfully. “Well, given how average you claim to be, I hope you can keep up with me.”
“Oh? How’s that?”
“I’ve been told I can be a handful.” It was my mother who told me that. Actually, her exact words were I feel sorry for the man you marry. All I can say is that I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into. I took it as a compliment. Being a handful meant that I was a challenge, which meant that I wasn’t a pushover and my relationships would never be boring. To date, both had proven true.
Looking over his shoulder, Kennedy scoped out my backside. “I happen to like having my hands full.”
“That’d better be a compliment,” I teased.
“That was a ringing endorsement.” Leaning over, Kennedy brushed his lips against mine. “You have a fantastic ass, sweet. I plan to eat dessert off it.”
“Is that so?” My body began to heat as my pulse began to race. Dessert and Kennedy’s lips on my ass was a very appealing idea. Even more appealing? Dessert and my lips on Kennedy’s ass.
Kennedy’s eyes turned molten as he stared into mine. “The faster you finish your dinner, the faster we get to dessert…and the sooner I get to eat. You. Up.”