Icing on the Cake

by Ann Marie Walker

  “Mmm-hmm, nine months.” The smile in Olivia’s voice was impossible to miss.

  “You should have told him you wanted to recreate the day it all began,” Cassie said, referencing the commercial flight where Olivia literally fell into Cole’s lap. “Isn’t it only the mile-high club if you do it in a cramped airline lavatory?”

  “As hot as that sounds . . . not! I think he’s a bit more interested in passing the time in his jet’s master cabin.” She lowered her voice. “He told me he bought these soft restraints that run under the mattress. Sort of a step up from tying me to the bedpost with my panties.” Olivia giggled, a sound Cassie still wasn’t quite used to hearing from her previously subdued friend. “Guess you could say he’s raising the bar. Oh! Speaking of bars . . . last week he brought home this spreader bar and—”

  “TMI!” Cassie shouted.

  Olivia laughed. Sometimes Cassie wondered if the stories she recounted were true or if she embellished them for effect. Either way, she certainly elicited a reaction. “All right, get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Night-night,” Cassie said, before ending the call and tucking her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans. She’d just picked up the tray of cupcakes and was headed toward the refrigerated case when a shadow in the doorway stopped her dead in her tracks. She stumbled and swayed and for the second time in as many hours nearly had to restart the last batch.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” her handsome stranger said. “The front door was open and I could see the light was still on so . . .”

  She’d left the front door unlocked? That wasn’t like her. Then again, she hadn’t exactly acted much like herself all night. And she had been quite distracted by the near fire, not to mention the near kiss.

  “No, it’s fine. I mean, I shouldn’t have left the door unlocked, but I’m glad that I did. Not that I would have wanted someone to break in, but then you wouldn’t have been able to get in and then you wouldn’t be here, standing in the kitchen with me.” Good grief she was a babbling fool. Cassie took a calming breath in an attempt to stop her motormouth, but there wasn’t much she could do about her racing heart. There was just something about him, something magnetic and dangerous and irresistible all at once. It was a devastating combination that made her feel jittery and excited and more turned-on than she could ever remember feeling in her entire life, even counting the time Robert Pattinson appeared at her local mall to promote the release of Twilight. That had been so intense she’d nearly fainted, something she was embarrassingly close to doing again.

  “I’m glad you came back,” she finally said in a softer, calmer voice.

  In the shadows her stranger looked even more mysterious than he had before, a fact she wouldn’t have thought possible. But when he stepped forward and the light caught his eyes, all thoughts left her but one: their unfinished kiss.

  His gaze fell upon her face before taking in the rest of her in a long sweeping glance. Nothing seemed to go unnoticed, from the stray curls of hair that brushed against her neck to the way the apron pulled across her breasts to the way her jeans hugged her hips. There was so much heat behind those brown eyes, her body sprang to life in a tingling warmth in their wake. “Burning the midnight oil I see.” His voice was rough, betraying the effect his once-over had had on him as well.

  “Have a large order to fill for the weekend.” She smiled, then nodded down at the tray she still held in her hands. “Plus, I had a few cupcakes to remake.”

  Her handsome stranger ran a hand back through his hair and when it fell forward in a perfectly tousled mess, she wanted to reach out and touch it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked, and to imagine what it would feel like clutched between her fingers in a moment of unbridled lust. Cheese and rice, she was a hot mess.

  “Yes,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. “My fault really. I was, after all . . . distracting you.” The expression on her stranger’s face was contrite and yet at the same time not the least bit sorry. Although to be fair, neither was she. In fact if she was honest with herself what she was most sorry about was that their moment had been interrupted.

  “Which is why I’m here actually.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “It is?”

  “Indeed. Least I can do is offer my services. Hank Green,” he said, bowing with a flourish. “Your humble servant, mademoiselle. Ready to work.”

  Despite the fact that a part of her had hoped he’d been referring to the distraction and that what he’d actually meant was that he was there to finish the kiss he’d nearly started, there was no denying the charm of a man willing to roll up his sleeves in the kitchen. For Cassie it was almost better than foreplay. Add to that the infectious grin, and she was dangerously close to becoming a puddle on the bakery floor.

  “I might look like a bloke who doesn’t know his way around a kitchen, aside from making a mean bowl of cereal. But I’m a fast study.”

  Fast. Fast and furious. Fast and furious against the refrigerator. Or maybe he could just spread her out on the stainless steel counter, lower his head to her—

  “What’s next on the list?”

  Jeez Louise. Forget cooking foreplay, she was halfway to the finish line all on her own. But instead of taking him up on his offer and seeing if one thing might lead to another, Cassie opened her mouth and words came out as if on autopilot. “Umm, actually, I’m done for the night,” she said. “This is the last batch of replacement cupcakes.”

  It was official, she had zero moves. That or she’d spent so much time with inanimate objects she was actually starting to lose her mind. An unbelievably hot stranger was at her doorstep offering to help her in the kitchen. What sane woman would tell him she was just about to lock up? No wonder she hadn’t had sex in nearly two years.

  To her relief, Hank Green wasn’t giving up so easily.

  “There has to be something else on the list.” He glanced around the nearly spotless kitchen until his gaze fell on the bowl of oversized strawberries visible through the refrigerator’s glass door. “What about those, are they good to go as you say, or do they need to be dipped and drizzled?”

  A small giggle bubbled up from deep inside her. “Dipped and drizzled?”

  “Covered with chocolate and then decorated with little zigzags or sprinkles of some sort?”

  “Fan of decorating confections are you?”

  “Actually more a fan of eating them.”

  “So more consumer than manufacturer?”

  “Precisely.” His face darkened with sensual promise. “Although I do consider myself somewhat of an expert when it comes to consuming delicacies.”

  Cassie couldn’t help but wonder if they were still talking about frosted fruit. A delicious tingle ran down her spine at the realization that, lack of modesty aside, her handsome stranger was probably quite proficient in many areas, none of which involved stand mixers and convection ovens.

  “So, am I hired?”

  The word “yes” blinked in front of her eyes like an old-fashioned movie marquee but before she could answer he sweetened the deal. “I’m a very hard worker and I require no pay.”

  That darn dimple made another appearance along with the smile from earlier in the day, the one that Cassie was quite sure got him out of trouble or into it, depending on his mood.

  “Well,” he said, “other than perhaps a kiss.”

  “A kiss?” she squeaked. Honestly, she sounded like Peter Brady going through puberty.

  He nodded. “Mmm-hmm, to finish the one we started earlier.”

  The bulbs on the mental marquee flashed so quickly, one of them popped.

  Cassie swallowed to find her voice then placed the tray of cupcakes on the counter and gave him her sweetest, most indulgent smile. “So let me get this straight. A near kiss resulted in a batch of burned bakery items, which you are now offering to help replace in exchange for completion of said kiss?”

  He grinned. “Has a nice symmetry to it, don’t you think?”


  She straightened her shoulders. “You’re assuming I was going to allow you to kiss me in the first place.” She might have been about to spontaneously combust, but she didn’t have to come off as a totally sure thing. Oh, who was she kidding? Pheromones were probably rolling off her in waves.

  Her stranger’s eyes glimmered. “I do like a challenge.” He reached for an apron that hung on a hook by the door. “Give me an hour.”

  “To seduce me?”

  “No, the hour is for dipping the strawberries. I only need five minutes for the seduction,” he said matter-of-factly.

  On other men such a declaration would have come off as cocky. But on him the confidence he exuded not only worked, it worked well. Despite his casual attire, another button-down—a pale green and white stripe—paired with a darker denim and no baseball cap, there was an air of authority about him. This was a man who wasn’t used to hearing the word “no,” and if the hum vibrating deep within her was any indication, he wasn’t likely to hear it tonight either.

  “So do we have a deal?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Cassie placed her hand in his and the same spark from earlier passed between them once again. “Deal.”

  “Excellent.” Her stranger brought her hand to his lips, pressing them ever so softly against her skin. Then he looked up and flashed a grin that made her want to forget all about the strawberries and go straight to the unfinished kiss. “Where do we begin?”

  He slipped the top loop of the apron over his neck and began to tie the strings behind his back. The image of Mr. Sexy Confidence in a red gingham apron was too much and although she tried her best to stifle it, another giggle escaped her lips.

  Hank looked up at her from beneath the soft brown hair that had fallen across his brow. “Mocking the help?” He tsked in disapproval but his face was lit with a warm smile.

  “Sorry,” Cassie said, trying her best to regain her composure. “It’s just . . . well, red is a good color on you.”

  “Just trying to protect my clothes.” A playful gleam filled his eyes. “I could take them all off if you prefer? Although I imagine that might break a few of your health codes.”

  “No, no,” she stammered. “The apron will do just fine.”

  “Good, because I am rather partial to the little ruffles,” he said, flicking his finger at the eyelet that trimmed the top of the apron. “Okay, now that I’m properly suited up, where do you want me?”

  Dear Lord, were there five more loaded words? Where did she want him? On his knees in front of her, hovering over her, looming behind her . . . and those were just the positions that popped into her mind. Something told her that her stranger could conjure a few she’d never even thought of, and at the moment she was game to try them all. “Where did she want him?” wasn’t the question. More like where didn’t she.

  “Right there is fine,” she said, pointing to the large sink against the wall as she made her way to the refrigerator. She pulled out the bowl of oversized strawberries, and brought them to the sink along with a colander. “You can wash these while I get the chocolate sauce ready. Just be sure to pat them dry.” She handed him a roll of paper towels. “If there’s any water left on them it will make the chocolate get all bumpy.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hank said with a tiny salute.

  Cassie left him to his chore and went about the kitchen gathering the items she needed for—what was it he called it? Ah yes, dipping and drizzling. It wasn’t lost on her that Hank, while taking his job very seriously, never took his eyes off her. At least not for very long. She did her best to give him a show worth watching, letting her hips sway a little more than necessary as she walked by or arching her back a little more than normal as she reached for something on a high shelf.

  Mutual appreciation aside, they made a good team, and within just a few minutes they had a colander of washed and dried strawberries and two bowls of perfectly melted chocolate.

  “I usually like to get the fruit to room temperature before I coat it,” she said as she assembled everything on the large stainless steel island in the center of the room. “But I think they will be fine.”

  Hank joined her, watching with great fascination as Cassie placed two trays on the counter, one in front of each of them, then lined them with parchment paper. “Do I sense a bit of competition?” he said, eyeing the two workstations she had created.

  She laughed. “No, I just thought it would be easier if we each had our own space.”

  “Afraid I’ll distract you again?” The look he gave her was almost identical to when he’d been about to kiss her. Only this time the glimmer in his eyes told her he wanted a lot more than just one kiss.

  “Perhaps.” She set the bowl of milk chocolate in front of him. “I’ll use the white chocolate and then we can switch for the drizzle.”

  Hank stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his fingers as though he was about to sit down at a piano. “So how does this go then?” he asked.

  Cassie picked up a strawberry and leaned closer as she held the fruit over his bowl of melted chocolate.

  “It’s quite simple,” she said, dunking the strawberry into the bowl then giving it a quick twist as she drew it back out. “All in the wrist really.” The lump in her throat made her voice sound husky and deep and more like a phone sex operator than a pastry chef. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had to go and tell him it was best with a little wrist action.

  It was unlikely her comment went unnoticed, but mercifully her stranger said nothing. Instead he merely picked up a strawberry and mimicked her actions. “Like this?” he asked, dipping it ever so slightly into the warm chocolate.

  “Yes, but deeper. Don’t be afraid to get your fingers wet.” Crap, she did it again. She’d been trying out a little subtle flirtation with the swaying hips, but now it seemed as though she’d gone all porn star, at least the audio portion.

  Beside her Hank stilled, but once again said nothing. Cassie tried her best to focus her attention on the task at hand but she couldn’t resist a sideways glance at her handsome stranger. She watched as he dipped the fruit deeper into the chocolate before lifting the dripping mess out of the bowl.

  “Just be careful of the dangly bits,” she said.

  He cut his eyes at her and she felt a warm blush spread across her face.

  “I meant the excess chocolate.” She was basking in her quick recovery when she stuck her foot so far into her mouth it was amazing she could still speak. “If you swirl the end you get a nice finish.” Christ on a cracker, forget the Barefoot Contessa, she could star in a new show called the Slutty Gourmet. What in the world had gotten into her? She couldn’t have made this stuff up if she tried, and yet for some inexplicable reason double entendre had become second nature.

  A low groan rumbled deep within Hank’s chest. “It’s possible you’ll be the death of me, Little Vixen.”

  Cassie had to bite her lip to hide her smile. B-list audio porn star or not, whatever she was doing was working. Still, there were a lot of strawberries to dip in chocolate that wouldn’t stay melted for very much longer. Her spontaneous combustion would have to wait until after the work was done, which meant it was probably best to change the subject. Quickly.

  “So, what do you do for a living?”

  Hank dropped the next strawberry completely into the bowl. “Um, I help run our family business.” He stole a glance at her as he rescued the drowning fruit. He shook the excess chocolate off before placing it next to the others on the parchment. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just making conversation.” Cassie smiled. “Obviously you know my profession.” She nodded to the trays of food. “And truth be told I was half afraid of what was going to come out of my mouth next if we kept going the way we were.”

  “So you weren’t trying to drive me crazy with naughty innuendo?”

  She laughed. “Not intentionally, no.”

  “Too bad.” He winked. “I was quite enjoying it.”


  “Good to know. But for the sake of these desserts I thought maybe I should switch topics.” Cassie swirled her last strawberry through the creamy chocolate, causing Hank to do a double take.

  “You’re done?” he asked. It was a rhetorical question seeing as her half of the strawberries had all been dipped and placed in neat rows to dry.

  “Occupational advantage,” she said. She leaned her hip against the counter and settled in to watch him work. “What sort of business?”

  Hank cleared his throat. “Imports and exports.”

  “So you move things in and out?”

  His eyes flared. “I thought you were done with innuendo?”

  She felt a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t mean . . . I only meant . . .”

  “You’re beautiful when you blush.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “And you’re correct. I move things in and out. Sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, but I’ve found it’s more about the angle, I mean route.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “Finding just the right spot makes it all the more rewarding.”

  A moment passed before Cassie’s head cleared enough to form a complete thought. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered. “At the innuendo I mean.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the century? Hank’s description had made every nerve in Cassie’s body come alive. And the way his gaze had shifted from her eyes to her lips? Finished assignment or not, she’d been sure he was about to claim his payment. But instead of kissing her, he merely reached for the next strawberry and began rolling it through what was left of the milk chocolate.

  “There, task completed.” He placed the last of his strawberries on the tray and turned to face her. She assumed he’d be ready for his reward, but the expression on his face was more amusement than lust.

  “You have a little . . .” He gestured toward his brow.

  Cassie ran her fingers across her forehead until they caught on a gooey clump of chocolate. For the love of God, it was like she was living some middle school nightmare. What was next, toilet paper stuck to her shoe?