Takes the Cake

by Lynn Chantale

  “I can’t imagine why. She was apologetic about the changes.” She stepped back and into Keegan’s masculine form.

  He was so close that his warmth seeped into her clothes. A rigid swell met the curve of her behind and sent awareness trickling through her veins. Desire dampened her panties while she sucked in a breath. This man could not be aroused by her, could he? Not after all this time. She didn’t think she was ugly, far from it, but with her unruly curls tucked beneath a bandanna, her face devoid of any cosmetics, and her hands covered in dye, she wouldn’t win any beauty contests.

  Keegan was deceptively thin. Tall and muscular. She glanced at the well-tanned arms on either side of her. Toned forearms and chiseled biceps trapped her between his body and the shelving unit. She faced him and wished she hadn’t. He had the clearest hazel eyes she’d seen in a very long time, and right now they were more green than brown or gray. A lock of auburn hair curled over his forehead, and she had the uncontrollable urge to push it back into place. Well, forget pushing it back into place. She wanted to run her fingers through the reddish-brown waves, which were free of any gel or hairspray. Loose and carefree. Even his clothing reflected an easygoing manner with the untucked polo barely covering the telltale bulge in his baggy, blue cotton shorts. She swallowed and tried to look away, but she was drawn to his arousal. She longed to stroke him through the fabric of his shorts. Where had that thought come from? She twisted her fingers in her apron to keep from acting on impulse.

  “So you didn’t harass dear Martha?”

  His question snapped her from her reverie and she focused on his lips. Not too thin, not too thick. Just right for kissing. He pressed closer. His chest brushed her breasts, and this time, there was no mistaking the erection wedged against her hip. An answering trickle of desire warmed her pussy. What would it be like to lean into him and feel each breath he took? She lifted her hands and flattened her palms to his chest. Nothing but a solid wall of muscle.

  “Right now you’re the only one doing the harassing.”

  He winged a brow. “Really? You’re the one stroking my chest.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. She was caressing the taut pecs beneath his designer polo. Startled, she dropped her hands. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling up a client? “I’m so—”

  The moment his lips touched hers, all rational thought fled. Cool and commanding, firm and full of purpose, his mouth moved on hers, tempting her with the promise of long, slow lovemaking and unbridled passion.

  At first she’d been too surprised to shove him away, but he coaxed a response with each kiss he fluttered over her lips. She drew him closer, savoring the tingles zipping along her spine. She plunged her fingers in the thickness of his hair, her lips parting on a sigh. He pressed the advantage, darting his tongue inside her mouth to duel with hers. She hummed in pleasure as he seemed to drink in her very essence and become the air she breathed. She clung to him, giving, taking, and demanding more.

  The months melted away when he curved an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, lifting her until her feet no longer touched the floor. She wrapped her legs around his hips as his other hand grabbed her behind. His erection settled at the vee of her thighs, pressing into her heat even as dampness moved through her panties. He thrust upward, and her clit throbbed for relief.

  Muffled swearing and a loud clatter snapped her back to reality, and she broke the kiss. “What are you doing?” She shoved at his shoulders and dropped her legs from his waist. How could she have lost her head and wrapped her body around his like they’d been together forever? Heat infused her cheeks. What would he think of her? “Oh, my goodness. Put me down.” She squirmed, but he didn’t release her. “Mr. Murphy—”

  “It’s Keegan, especially after a kiss like that.”

  “Fine. Keegan. Let me down. This is highly improper.” She didn’t know what else to say. She was supposed to be cooking, and here she was making out with the bride’s brother.

  He smiled, a flash of dazzling white teeth that made her knees weak. “If you say so, but you’re the one who started it.”

  She shook her head. This went against all the rules. At least it wasn’t the groom, but she shouldn’t be kissing anyone in the bridal party. Her boss, Darling, would kill her if she found out what had transpired. This wouldn’t have happened at all if Darling were here, but she was off celebrating her own happily ever after.

  “Look, Mr. Mur—Keegan, we can pretend it didn’t happen and get on with our work.” Liz glanced around. “Please put me down. I really need to get the remainder of the hors d’oeuvres for tonight finished.”

  He studied her a moment, the slow perusal heating the dying embers of her desire, and then slowly lowered her down his body. His arousal was evident when it grazed her hip and then abdomen as her feet touched the floor. She swallowed hard. This man made her want to forget her surroundings and follow him to a secluded room where they could explore the passion arcing between them.

  That wasn’t possible. They weren’t together. She had a job to do.

  “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head. “So you only reserve your rudeness for me?”

  “Or anyone else who annoys me.”

  A smile flirted at his delectable mouth. “So you’ll think about changing the cake?”

  “This isn’t even your wedding. Why are you so adamant she have this fab cake when she doesn’t even want it?” She searched his face. A flicker of surprise shone in his irises. “This isn’t my first wedding, and it won’t be my last. I’m damn good at what I do, which is giving people their vision. Caroline wanted simple and elegant. When you find the right woman and pop that all-important question, assuming she says yes, then you can dictate to the caterer how you want your cake.”

  “You mean Caro wanted simple and elegant?”

  She snatched the can of water chestnuts from the shelf. “Yes. Now if you don’t mind, there’s been a menu change, and I need to send one of my staff to get more supplies.”

  “So you don’t believe your cakes predict the outcome of marriages?”

  “I’m not a psychic. People choose whether or not to make their relationships work, a piece of cake doesn’t.” She hugged the can to her chest and hurried from the room, hoping the distance she put between them would dispel this excess tension. Maybe staying away from him for the rest of the wedding would diminish the attraction still simmering in her veins. Because right now, the scent of his cologne and the memory of his lips caressing hers left her a bit frazzled.

  He followed. “I just want what’s best for my sister.”

  “Admirable.” She thumped the can down near the can opener. Her mind was already on what she needed, and it wasn’t Keegan Murphy’s lips or hands.

  He grabbed her elbow and jerked her to a halt. Her breath caught in her throat as his touch sent want scurrying through her. She shook off his hand. When he reached for her again, she shot him a glare.

  “You’re not even listening to me.” Exasperation filled Keegan’s voice.

  “I’m working.” Who was she kidding? She couldn’t concentrate as long as he was in the room, and she really needed to get back to work. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a psychologist on the premises. Maybe you should pour your heart out to that person.”

  He shook his head, a scowl on his handsome face. “You can be replaced.”

  Her temper flared, and she bit the inside of her cheek. She breathed deeply, struggling to maintain her composure. “At this late date? Good luck getting another caterer during one of the busiest wedding months of the summer.” She reached behind her and untied her apron strings. “Actually, that’s fine by me. That would solve your cake problems and this evening’s meal issues. I’ll just inform Miss Murphy that my services are no longer required.”

  She spun on her heel and stalked from the kitchen. Aware of the man dogging her every step, she pushed through the double doors. If he thought he could get her to cooperate with the threat of losing
this contract, he was sadly mistaken. The only reason the company had survived so long was because of the owner’s refusal to be intimidated by rich boys like Keegan Murphy. If they constantly made last-minute demands, the costs would never be justified.

  Liz rounded the corner. The sight of a couple in a rather heated embrace slowed her footsteps. A flash of platinum blonde and a deeply tanned forearm greeted her. She stifled a gasp and cleared her throat. The couple fell apart. The man moved into the shadows while Caroline patted her hair and turned with a serene smile on her face.

  Odd. Why had her companion left so suddenly? Unless it wasn’t the groom. Liz glanced over her shoulder to Keegan. He stared in the direction the other man had taken. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. Maybe he knew who the man was.

  “Miss Murphy.”

  “Liz, is something wrong? Did you need Martha to call the temp agency for more servers? I know the menu change was rather sudden, and I do apologize for that. My fiancé didn’t inform me until just before I told you.”

  Liz couldn’t help but like this socialite. Caroline Murphy was not the typical rich bride. She always had a kind word. Liz shook her head. “No. Your brother…”

  Humor lit her eyes. “Is he bothering you with that cake nonsense? Don’t give it another thought. David and I love the design, and it’s exactly what we want.”

  “He fired me, and I wanted to let you know before I walked off the grounds with the rest of my staff.”

  Caroline’s mouth fell open as she looked from Liz to a point beyond her shoulder. “He did what?”

  “What nonsense is she spouting, Caro?” Keegan asked smoothly.

  “Don’t play coy with me,” Caroline snapped. “Are you trying to ruin my wedding?”

  “Of course not. I want this to be the happiest day of your life.” Keegan shot Liz a glare, and she almost laughed.

  “Then why did you fire my caterer? A caterer I had to book a year in advance. A caterer who everybody wants to do their wedding. A caterer who did not have to drive three hours to cook for this week’s event.”

  “But I—”

  “You will apologize to her, and then I’m going to Mom and Dad and telling them you’re trying to ruin my wedding.” Caroline’s voice wobbled on the last word, and Liz almost felt sorry for Keegan.

  He stepped close. Liz almost moved back. He was too close. She held her ground and met his heated gaze. Her pulse leaped. Lust and something else she couldn’t quite define flickered in his irises. She really needed to put some distance between them before she did something stupid—like pull him down for another kiss.

  “Accept my sincerest apologies. I acted rather hastily in my decision to terminate your employment.”

  She nodded and backed away. “Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me.”

  “Fantastic. So we’re back on track for this evening?” This was from Caroline. Liz nodded. “Good. And Keegan, leave the caterer alone. She’s worth her weight in gold.” Caroline strolled down the hall, the staccato tap of her heels fading on the polished granite.

  Liz spun on her heel and hurried in the opposite direction toward the kitchen.

  “Liz?” The soft way he spoke her name caressed nerve endings she didn’t know she had. She paused, half turning to face him. He closed the distance between them. “Just so you know. This means war.”

  She flashed a smirk before sauntering into the kitchen. What would he do in retaliation? In the past, he would leave sexy notes on her pillows, send a risqué picture of himself to her phone, or even a dirty limerick or two, but they weren’t together anymore. Still… A giggle burst from her throat as a list of naughty tidbits ran through her mind. She could definitely prepare for that.

  Chapter Two

  Had Keegan known how his sister, parents, friends, and the rest of the bridal party would react, maybe he’d have kept his mouth shut and not attempted to fire Liz. It didn’t help that Caro turned on the waterworks.

  “I guess your ploy at getting the caterer’s attention backfired,” his future brother-in-law, David, said, handing him a glass of amber liquid on the rocks.

  Keegan stared at the glass and then at the man behind the wet bar. David was the perfect man for his sister. Intelligent, rich, good-looking, well-connected, yet there seemed to be something missing from the man. Keegan sipped the Scotch, relishing the burn and slightly fruity aftertaste.

  “Dad broke out the good stuff?”

  “This is what we asked the caterer to stock. We had to special order it from a shop in New York.” David sampled his own glass. “Worth every penny, don’t you think?”

  “Indeed.”

  “And they found a great Premier Cru Supérieur to go with tonight’s meal. Do you know if the caterer was able to accommodate the food request?”

  “Of course they were.” Caroline smiled brightly as she threaded her hand through the crook of David’s arm. “I think they’re preparing a duck breast to go along with the meal.”

  “Sounds like the evening is saved,” Keegan said.

  His sister glared at him. “No thanks to you.”

  Keegan inclined his head. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.” There had to be somewhere in the house he could go where he wouldn’t get in any trouble. He glanced at his watch. The rehearsal would start in about twenty minutes. The kitchen would be alive with activity, and Liz would be there.

  He shouldn’t have gone in that direction, but he couldn’t resist. He wandered down the hallway, pushed through one of the swinging doors, and leaned against one wall out of the way.

  Keegan hadn’t stopped thinking about Liz since she walked out of his life all those months ago. That was the biggest mistake he’d made, not going after her. No matter how often he was on the road, she had always been there when he came home. A month before the last season ended, she wasn’t.

  The pain of her absence only intensified when a knee injury sidelined his career for good. With all the glam and glitz that had surrounded his life, none of his so-called friends had remained while he recovered. Liz would’ve been there if he hadn’t been such an ass. He had the perfect woman in his life, and he let her walk away because of his own arrogance and stupidity. He wouldn’t make that same mistake twice.

  He searched among the steam and noise for a pink bandanna. With so many people bustling through the kitchen, it was hard to find one caramel-skinned woman. If he walked further into the room, he was sure to find her, but he would also run the risk of her wrath. The thought of provoking her again had possibilities. Anything just to watch her eyes snap with fire and her pretty mouth twist into a pout. Now he just wanted her to know he was waiting for another opportunity to catch her alone.

  A heavy sigh on his left grabbed his attention. Sudden mirth twitched at the corners of his mouth. He turned to stare into light-brown eyes and grinned. How he would love to kiss those luscious, frowning lips again.

  “What do you want now?”

  Her face was a little flushed. Annoyance flickered over her features, but she was still quite beautiful. Did she still look the same without the head covering? Was her hair as soft as he remembered? He yearned to yank the material from her hair and free the riot of curls tucked beneath the fabric.

  “Doesn’t matter. Just stay out the way.” She moved past him and he grabbed her wrist.

  “When will you be free?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you have horny bridesmaids to hit on?”

  He shrugged. “I find the caterer much more of a challenge.”

  “If you applied as much effort into wooing one of those bridesmaids as you do me, you might actually get one.” She shook off his hand and stalked away.

  Keegan swung his head from side to side with a half smile. She was a piece of work. He glanced at his watch. It wouldn’t do to incur his sister’s wrath a second time. He needed to get outdoors to the rehearsal.

  Every time Liz turned around, Keegan was hovering, not saying a word. He perused h
er as she made her way throughout the kitchen. Assessing, calculating, seducing. She wanted to forget the man even existed. How could she do that when each time he entered the room her body went on point? His gaze was a physical caress, reminding her of their all-too-brief kiss in the pantry. Or the way he cupped her buttocks. By the time she was focused on work, he would show up again.

  Just two more days and she would be done with this crazy wedding nonsense. Or rather Keegan and his nonsense. Maybe when things were over with she would ask him why he kissed her. Even now she could still feel the firmness of his lips pressed to hers, the heat of his hand as it cupped her derriere, and the hardness of his erection as it pulsed against her core. She bit back a moan, hating that she wanted to feel those tingles and shivers again.

  Heat touched her cheeks, and she was glad for her slightly darker skin tone. No one would see her blushing. She moved the rumaki to a waiting tray and signaled one of the servers to take it out. They would be serving hors d’oeuvres until dinner, and the first course was a spicy gazpacho followed by a sorbet. Then the stuffed crab and duck breast for the main course, another sorbet, a light salad, and finally, a sampling of desserts.

  And once the last bit of food was put away and tomorrow’s prep done, she’d go to sleep, wake up early, and do it all over again. For now, she had to push on and set up the rest of the evening. She veered left, skirting a couple of warming stations, and pushed through a singular wooden swinging door that led into the dining room. She peered around the room.

  Three long tables were arranged in a U-shape. The bride and groom would be placed at the center with their respective families on either side. Pristine white linens adorned the tables, while expensive china and crystal waited for the evening festivities. Satisfied the room was ready, she returned to the kitchen to prepare the first course.