Delectable Desire

by Farrah Rochon

  He was being an asshole.

  But he didn’t know what else to do. This was uncharted territory, and it was seriously scaring the hell out of him. He didn’t do the emotional stuff. He didn’t know how to make it all work. Just look at the role model he’d had. Devon Drayson, Mr. Noncommitment.

  Lorraine emerged from his bedroom, dressed in the cream-colored suit she’d worn to her sister’s bridal shower, and looking as if she’d just stepped out of a boardroom instead of a bedroom.

  Carter grabbed his keys. “I’ll drive you home.”

  “No.” She held up her cell phone. “I’ve already called a cab. They should be downstairs by the time I get there.”

  Don’t let her take the cab, his conscience demanded. But he dropped the keys back onto the counter.

  Lorraine stared at the keys, then at him. In a shallow voice, she said, “Good night, Carter.”

  He swallowed past the uncomfortable lump clogging his throat. “Good night,” he managed to get out.

  And he let her go.

  * * *

  Lorraine unlocked the door to the penthouse, walked inside and yelped.

  “Where have you been?” her mother demanded.

  She clutched a hand to her chest. “My goodness, Mother. You scared me half to death.”

  “You’ve been with that baker,” her mother said, her voice oozing accusation and reproach.

  “Would you please stop referring to him as ‘that baker’? He is more than just a baker.”

  “What a relief to know that my daughter doesn’t wrap her arms around just anyone. Although I certainly do not approve of the way you let him kiss you, as if there was no one else around.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mother, it’s not as if we started doing it in front of you.”

  “Lorraine!”

  “His name is Carter Drayson,” she said over her mother’s shriek. “He is the head artisan cake baker at Lillian’s.”

  “Yes, he imparted that much when he delivered Trina’s cake. But I don’t care what kind of cakes he bakes, he is still just a baker, Lorraine.”

  “He is also the grandson of Lillian and Henry Drayson, the same Draysons who own that building on Michigan Avenue and that huge estate in Glenville Heights, along with several other properties around the city.”

  Just that quickly, her mother’s entire demeanor changed. Lorraine felt physically ill. How could anyone be so shamelessly shallow?

  “You are unbelievable,” Lorraine said. “Now that you know he is from a wealthy family, Carter is suddenly acceptable in your eyes?”

  “I did not say he was acceptable,” Abigail hissed. She lifted her chin in the air. “But it does make a difference. If he has his own money, he won’t be after yours. I gather this is the same man you were plastered against in the newspaper? Stuart showed me the photo.”

  Count on her brother to not mention it to her, but to go straight to their parents.

  “Mother, just leave this alone. Please. I like Carter. He likes me. It shouldn’t matter that he’s a Drayson.”

  “Someone needs to look out for you, Lorraine. You don’t always make the wisest choices when it comes to men.”

  “I am not an imbecile. Yes, I made a horrible mistake five years ago. But do you know what is so wonderful about mistakes, Mother? A person can learn from them.”

  “And have you?” her mother charged. “Have you really learned, Lorraine? Or did you let yourself get swept up in this Carter person before you even knew who he really was?”

  “Why does that matter? Even if Carter really was just a baker at Lillian’s, it should not matter. Not every man is like Broderick.” She pointed an accusing finger at her mother. “You had no right to treat Carter the way you did today.”

  “I had every right. I was looking out for you.”

  “I am not a child. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

  Her mother clenched her lips and jutted out her jaw. “Fine. I was looking out for the Hawthorne-Hayes name. You tend to forget that what you do has consequences not only for you, but for this entire family. I will not allow you to bring shame upon this family again.”

  Lorraine closed her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and warily blew it out. “How many times will I have to apologize?”

  “You’ve apologized enough. You need to demonstrate how sorry you are by not making those same stupid choices again.”

  “I am not going to stop seeing Carter,” Lorraine stated, her tone resolute.

  “Fine,” her mother said again. “But if he turns out to be just like that other bastard, don’t run to me and your father to bail you out. Is that clear?”

  Lorraine held her head up. “Crystal clear.”

  Her mother subjected her to her most superior stare, the one Lorraine had witnessed throughout her childhood. She knew better than to be fooled by the outwardly calm expression; Lorraine could tell by the slight flare of her nostrils that Abigail was beyond enraged. Part of it was more than likely due to her lack of control over the situation. Her mother thrived on controlling every aspect of her family.

  But Lorraine also acknowledged that some of Abigail’s vehemence was warranted. When it came to Carter’s integrity and motives, all her mother had to go on was Lorraine’s judgment, which, admittedly, had been flawed in the past. Other than Lorraine’s word, Abigail had no way of knowing if Carter’s intentions were honorable. For that matter, neither did Lorraine.

  After tonight, she wasn’t so sure of his intentions, either.

  She went into her bedroom, trying to block the feelings of uncertainty that clawed up her throat as she recalled Carter’s change in demeanor after they’d made love. He’d pulled away, both physically and emotionally. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with a man that Lorraine hadn’t been sure exactly what to expect, but she certainly had not anticipated his distant, almost cold reaction.

  Was Carter just looking for sex, and now that he’d gotten it, was he done? Had she foolishly allowed herself to be used again?

  She stared into her bathroom mirror, unsure what to think of the woman staring back at her. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she just was not capable of making sound choices when it came to men.

  “I trusted you, Carter Drayson,” Lorraine whispered. “Please don’t make me regret it.”

  Chapter 8

  “Dammit!”

  Carter put his hands on his hips and stared at the entire bowl of buttercream frosting splattered across the floor.

  “What’s going on with you?” Malik asked, walking up to him. “First you overcook the lemon filling, and now this?”

  Carter grabbed a towel from the counter and started cleaning up the mess. “I’m just tired,” he said. Malik’s chuckle grated on his nerves. He looked over his shoulder. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “You’ve got it bad” was Malik’s response.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carter said as he flung the icing into a trash bin.

  “Remember who you’re talking to. It wasn’t all that long ago that I was in your shoes. Stop trying to fight it, Carter. It’s no use. You’re caught.”

  “Nobody has caught me,” he said. “I’m not like you. This thing with Lorraine is just... We’re just having fun.”

  Even as he said it, Carter wanted to take back the words. They left a vile taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to cheapen what he’d found with Lorraine, despite the fact that it scared the hell out of him.

  “Does she know that?” Malik asked. “Actually, a better question is, do you know that? Because from where I’m standing, you’re doing more than just having a little fun. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  He’d never felt like this before, and that was what frightened him the most.

  He’d had his share of women. Actually, he’d had his, his cousins’ and the entire Chicago White Sox outfield’s share of women. But never had he fallen so deeply, so quickly and so damn hard. He didn’t do long-t
erm and high emotion. He did carefree and easy exits.

  Not this time. This time, he had no desire to make a run for it.

  Carter couldn’t shake the guilt he felt over allowing Lorraine to leave last night. It was bad enough that he hadn’t taken her home, but he hadn’t even walked her downstairs to meet the cab. What in the hell was wrong with him?

  He pulled out his cell phone, but his fingers just hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to call her.

  Coward.

  He’d attempted this call at least a half dozen times since she’d left last night, but had yet to follow through. He was still unsure of what to say to her. Should he come right out and apologize? Should he play it off as though he didn’t think he had anything to atone for? He was so out of his element on this one it wasn’t even funny.

  Phone call or not, he had to do something to let her know he was thinking of her. Because he was thinking of her. Constantly.

  Carter pulled up the internet browser on his cell phone and searched for a local florist. He was about to order a dozen roses when he remembered their walk along the Nature Boardwalk the night of the event at Lincoln Park Zoo. He changed his order to irises.

  Carter knew this did nothing to make up for how he’d left things last night, but he could only hope that it was a start on his road to forgiveness.

  He returned to scraping up icing with a spatula, and spotted Shari’s son, Andre, standing in the corner, watching him.

  “Hey there, little man.” Carter motioned for him to come over. He’d always felt a kinship with Andre that he’d never felt with the rest of his cousins. Maybe it was because he had something in common with the four-year-old that his other cousins couldn’t relate to. Like Carter, Andre knew what it was like to grow up with a single mom.

  But at least Carter had his dad. Thomas Abernathy, Andre’s dad, had left Shari after she’d told him about the pregnancy, and hadn’t been heard from since. It was Thomas’s loss; Andre was a pretty cool kid.

  “How’s it going?” Carter asked him.

  Andre shrugged. “I want a cupcake, but Mommy told me I can’t have any more sugar today.”

  “You’re in a bakery. You can’t help having sugar.” Carter looked around. “Come on.” He motioned for Andre to follow him to the refrigerated storage units where they stored the pastries. “Chocolate or strawberry?” he asked him.

  “Strawberry,” he said, his green eyes sparkling in mischievous delight.

  Carter retrieved a strawberry and cream cupcake and handed it to Andre. He put a finger to his lips.

  “Shh...”

  “Okay,” Andre mouthed, taking a big bite out of his cupcake. He smiled up at him, those twin dimples dotting the corners of his mouth.

  Carter was envious of the kid. He’d give anything to go back to the days when a cupcake made everything better.

  But it would take a lot more than a sweet treat to resolve his current problems. Although, now that he thought about it, sweets couldn’t hurt.

  Carter went into the retail shop and ordered a dozen gourmet cupcakes to be delivered to Lorraine’s, to go along with the irises he’d sent. Cupcakes wouldn’t make up for his callousness last night, but at this point, Carter needed all the help he could get.

  He checked his watch. He and his cousins were scheduled to have a powwow to discuss You Take the Cake in a couple of minutes. Carter looked around the retail shop to make sure everything was running smoothly, and then headed for the back. As he was making his way down the hallway, he ran into Belinda and Malik coming out of the storage room.

  Carter lifted his hands, staving off comment. “I don’t even want to know.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” Malik said.

  Belinda slapped his arm. “We were restocking the shelves with the shipment of cake boxes that just arrived.”

  Malik winked. “Restocking the shelves. That’s our code name for you know what.”

  That earned him another slap from Belinda, followed by a kiss. Carter felt the urge to throw up. He followed his cousin and his best friend into the largest office, where the rest of his cousins were seated.

  Drake had his computer screen hooked up to a projector, which illuminated one wall.

  “Is everybody ready?” he asked.

  “What’s this meeting for again?” Malik asked.

  “We need to brainstorm our game plan for You Take the Cake,” Shari said. She looked pointedly at Carter. “I’m going to get you for giving my son that cupcake.”

  “Lighten up,” Carter said. “Every kid needs a cupcake every now and then. So,” he addressed the rest of the room. “I thought the game plan was annihilating Brown Sugar Bakery?”

  “That sounds like a plan to me,” Drake agreed.

  “That is not the plan,” Monica said. “I’m sure the show’s producers would love the side drama, but I refuse to provide it. We will be representing Lillian’s, and that’s not what Lillian’s is about.”

  Count on his youngest cousin to have the most level head, Carter thought.

  “Monica is right,” Belinda interjected. “This competition is about more than just beating Dina’s bakery. It’s our chance to really put Lillian’s on the map—not just in Illinois but across the country. We’re already getting national and even some international orders for our prepackaged bake mixes, and the local grocery stores that currently carry our baked goods have all been increasing their orders. If we win You Take the Cake, we would be in position to expand these two segments of the business exponentially.”

  “We’ve already decided that one way to stand out from the competition is to incorporate some really out-of-the-box flavors,” Monica said. “I’ve been working on a lemon poppy seed and rhubarb cupcake that is to die for.”

  “She’s right,” Shari said. “I tried it, and I nearly died because it was so bad.”

  Monica stuck her tongue out at her sister.

  “It’s not just the flavors,” Carter said. “One-third of the judges’ scores are based on the decorations. If we want to stand out, we’ll have to bring it. I just ordered some food-grade platinum glitter dust for the Eiffel Tower on the France cake. If I can find the extra time this week I’m going to practice by making a smaller version.”

  “I’m not worried about decorations.” This from Belinda. “After that cake you did for the Hawthorne-Hayes bridal shower, I think you can do just about anything, Carter.”

  “Yeah, you brought your A game with that one,” Malik said. “How did they like the cake?”

  All eyes turned to him. Carter tried for nonchalant. “They liked it.”

  “That’s all?” Monica asked.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged.

  “He’s holding back on us,” Drake said. “You can stop with the mysteriousness. We all saw the paper. I never pegged you for falling for someone as uptight as a Hawthorne-Hayes, though.”

  “According to Carter, they’re just ‘having fun.’” Malik made air quotes with his fingers.

  “Didn’t look that way from what I saw in the newspaper,” Monica said. “Or what Amber said she saw the other night at Lincoln Park Zoo. Apparently, things got hot and heavy.”

  Carter could feel his cheeks burning. “Can we get back to discussing the TV show?”

  He glanced over at Shari, who was looking at him with a concerned, haunting expression on her face.

  “Well, even though some of you may think the Dina situation isn’t that important, I disagree,” Drake said. “We need to talk about how we’re going to handle it. I say we call her out on national television for being a lying bitch.”

  “Grandma Lillian would have a fit,” Belinda pointed out.

  Carter replied, “We can’t let her just get away with what she did. Everything she’s doing in that bakery comes from what she learned here.”

  “She’s already gotten away with it,” Belinda countered.

  Carter nodded. “And that’s why we need to call her on it.”

  Malik
stopped the argument and looked to Shari. “She was your best friend, Shari. How do you think we should handle her?”

  Shari looked at them all. Then she cradled her face in her hands, said, “I can’t do this” and ran out of the room.

  “Let her go,” Drake said.

  But Carter wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He got up and went after Shari, finding her standing in the alcove between the storage room and the first consultation office.

  “Hey,” Carter said as he approached her. “You okay?”

  She wiped at the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m fine,” Shari said.

  “I don’t think so.” Cautiously, he reached out and stroked her arm. “What’s going on, Shari? I know you were hurt when Dina backstabbed everyone, but you shouldn’t let it upset you just because she was your friend.”

  “I brought her into the business,” Shari said.

  “So? I brought Malik in. If he’d turned out to be a backstabbing asshole, I wouldn’t see it as totally my fault.” Although, when he thought about it, Carter realized that he would indeed have felt a measure of guilt. He finally understood what his cousin was going through.

  “Look,” he said, capturing Shari’s shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “What’s done is done. You had no idea Dina would backstab us all.” He paused, then asked, “Did you?”

  “Carter!” Shari gasped.

  “I’m sorry. I should have known better than to ask that.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Shari sniffed and wiped her eyes again.

  “Hey, you still haven’t chewed me out for giving Andre that cupcake. You can do that if it’ll make you feel better.”

  His cousin laughed. “I should, but I won’t. Let him have his cupcake. At least one person in this family should be happy.”

  Carter’s chest tightened at the sadness on his cousin’s face. He understood her guilt, but this seemed excessive. “Shari, what’s really going on? Why wouldn’t you be happy?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, and then her eyes focused on his face. “Now, you tell me something. Are you happy? With Lorraine, I mean.”