Sugar and Spice

by Roxy Wynn

  He took a second to appreciate the pastry case before ordering a croissant and a cafe au lait. Excellent choice, I already knew I liked this guy.

  “Do you want that croissant warmed with quince butter? I make it in house and it’s super delicious.” I don’t always try to up-sell my customers so close to closing time, but he won some serious points by calling out Karen’s nasty attitude.

  “That sounds amazing,” he said. “Do you mind if I sit at one of these tables and enjoy it?”

  There was an internal struggle brewing inside of me. On one hand, I wanted to close up shop without having a customer dillydallying. On the other, this guy had single-handedly made my day.

  I gestured to the empty storefront in a worthless attempt at a joke, “If you can find a seat, you’re welcome to it.”

  If this was the last customer of the day every day, I could forget all of my Karen interactions and consider myself a lucky business owner.

  This guy was gorgeous!

  Well over six feet tall, with chocolate brown eyes and a smile that turned my insides to mush. Most people make eye contact for a moment while ordering, but this guy held my gaze the entire time like he was looking directly into my soul. For the first time in a long time I was almost unable to flirt.

  Almost.

  I wanted to leap over the counter into his arms, but decided against it and instead popped his croissant into the oven while I poured his coffee.

  He took a seat in the corner by the door, and I brought him his coffee first. Customers like him deserve the fresh stuff, not the accidental on purpose decaf.

  Chapter Five

  Jax

  I am an idiot.

  “I’m sorry, I just noticed the hours on your door, you’re closing soon. I should have ordered this to go.”

  Like all good southern boys, my mamma taught me to be polite. She also taught me that when in the presence of a beautiful woman, you try buttering them up.

  To be fair, not all southern mothers give that advice, but mine certainly did.

  “Not a problem,” she said. “It’s not like I get to skip out the door at five, anyway. I have to clean everything from top to bottom first, so you stay as long as you want.”

  At first glance, Ruby’s was a charming little bakery. Everything was clean and streamlined, with a lot of stainless steel accents. The black-and-white checkered floor was a perfect touch, and the bubbly blonde with the pin up style red bandana brought everything together.

  Her style was 100% sexy, retro, complete with cherry red lips and black-winged eyeliner on her gorgeous blue eyes. If she didn’t have flour on the tip of her nose, she could have been featured on a 50s auto shop calendar.

  She was so beautiful, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. After being around stick thin starlets all day at work, it was refreshing to be around a woman who looked like she actually ate food instead of pushing it around on her plate with her fork.

  And to top the experience off, she had no fucking clue who I was.

  I can tell right away when someone has recognized me out in public. They’ll usually pass me once, then double back to check again, all while reaching for their cell phones. If I’m lucky, they’ll ask for a picture and that will be the end of the exchange. If I’m not lucky, they stalk me silently while snapping as many pics as they can. That’s the unlucky way because then everyone around them catches on that I’m someone famous.

  While she was smiling at me, holding eye contact, I could tell it was genuine. She wasn’t trying to place where my face was from, or figure out what movie she might have seen me in.

  “So, how’s business?” I asked. I grabbed a chair at the empty table and sat down. Such a boring thing to say, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to fit in with normal people again, and the only pleasantries I could remember were “How’s business” and “How’s the weather.”

  “It’s okay,” she answered. “I mean, I won’t lie, it could be a lot better, but we are still relatively new. Finding a loyal customer base can take a while. Especially for a bakery when healthy eating is popular again.”

  She placed the plate down in front of me with the warm croissant and an ample helping of what I assumed was her infamous quince butter. One bite and my eyes rolled back in my head. The condiment was slightly tart, but also perfectly sweet with just a hint of cinnamon.

  Jesus, with food this good, I’m surprised there wasn’t a line around the block.

  “Did you make this yourself?” I asked, mouth full of warm buttery goodness.

  “Yup! Well, me and my crew. I do a lot of the baking, but I have a few part-timers on staff for overnights, so we have fresh pastries when we open. And also, so I’m not here seven days a week. But they’re all my recipes.”

  Without asking, she took the empty seat across from me and brushed a flour-covered hand over her forehead. I wondered if she treated all of her customers with such warmth. It was very cute.

  “I guess I just hoped to branch out into wedding cakes more, but that business hasn’t presented its self. You know?” She looked me dead in the eyes again like we had been friends for years. Is this how normal human interaction worked? I had been living in my fame bubble for so long, I was out of touch.

  “Well, have you tried advertising?”

  “Of course we did!”

  She seemed mildly annoyed, as if someone had already asked her that exact question a million times.

  “A lot more than advertising goes into breaking into the wedding cake business. The entire industry is brutal. You need Styrofoam cake mock-ups, and a portfolio, and a lot of other things I do not have time for. I keep telling Sarah we need to invest more into advertising, but she insists she has all that stuff covered. I’m just not so sure though.”

  I tried my best to not make a fool out of myself while finishing the rest of my heavenly treat; it was so perfectly warm and delicious. I felt flakes of croissant break off and tumble down my chin onto the front of my flannel shirt, but I didn’t care.

  Luckily, she was still talking about wedding cakes and this mysterious Sarah who claimed to have it all under control and was no longer staring at me.

  When she finally looked at me again, she laughed.

  “Oh, you have a little… something… on your face.”

  I carefully wiped the back of my hand across my makeshift stubble and a large chunk of quince butter fell into my lap.

  “Was that it?” I asked.

  The fake beard apparently has its drawbacks.

  “Yeah, you got it. Anything else I can get you? I’m about to lock up and then clean the kitchen.”

  “No ma’am, this was perfect.”

  Her eyes grew wide as if I had said something offensive, “I’m sorry, did you just ‘ma’am’ me? I’m only twenty-four, not seventy.” Her big eyes lit up, and she started laughing as if she found herself hilarious.

  God, she was absolutely perfect.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for her hand. “My momma taught me to address a beautiful woman as ma’am to be polite.”

  Her face flushed, and she bit her bottom lip.

  “Ah, I see,” she teased. “You’re a proper southern boy now. I like that. It’s a good look for you.”

  We had only just met, but the need to see her again was palpable. Between those big eyes, bright lipstick, and witty banter, she had me hook, line and sinker.

  Not to mention, inside that jumpsuit was a near perfect body. One that would play on my mind for quite some time.

  I know it sounds weird, since most people wouldn’t think twice about a run-of-the-mill trip to the bakery, but it made my day. For the first time in a long time, I experienced how good it felt to be a normal person. A guy could get used to flirting with a beautiful woman, eating real food, and not being hounded by the paparazzi.

  I loved it, and I wanted more.

  “Hey, can I see you again sometime?” I asked.

  The words poured from my mouth before I had time to think. What
was the game plan here? Date her as my bearded alter ego? What would I say my name is? And what if things went really well?

  I would have to fess up to my identity sometime.

  Without missing a beat she said, “I’m sorry, I’m not dating right now. I have the bakery to worry about and all that stuff.”

  She looked me up and down as if for the first time noticing my body.

  Did she just wince?

  “Trust me, if I wasn’t spending every waking moment at Ruby’s I would definitely go out with you. I have a huge soft spot in my heart for polite southern boys. But right now I need to focus on this.” She gestured around herself once again to the empty bakery.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that ma’am.”

  “Chrissy,” she corrected.

  “Chrissy,” I said back, liking the way her name sounded on my tongue almost as much as I would enjoy tasting her with it.

  “And you are?” She stuck her hand out to shake.

  “I’m Jeff. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Chrissy.” I took her extended hand to my mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back.

  Butter must be a great moisturizer. Did all bakers have such soft skin?

  We both stood, only she was a little wobbly and nearly knocked her chair over.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she said. “Come back for more croissants and tell your friends how good they are. We need the business.”

  Oh, I would definitely be back. The question was, do I go back as Jeffrey Jaxon, Hollywood star, or the hot lumberjack?

  Chapter Six

  Chrissy

  “So literally, right after you left yesterday, the most beautiful man I have ever seen, came in to Ruby’s for a snack!”

  It was a little after five thirty in the morning, and we were preparing to open for the day. Sarah, as usual, looked like she hadn’t slept in three weeks, while I came in made up in my usual red bandana and matching lipstick.

  Just because it was early didn’t mean I shouldn’t look my best.

  Also, deep down, I hoped the guy from yesterday would come back in for another croissant.

  Or a cinnamon roll I would offer him extra frosting for, which I would apply to his naked body with my tongue…

  Sarah’s eyes lit up as if she read my mind. Poor thing needed a saucy story. Since giving up internet dating, our mornings weren’t nearly as colorful. We still had our rocket fuel and pastries, but with no dirty stories, things had a tendency to get boring.

  And boring is the last thing anyone wants at six in the morning.

  When she opened the register, full of cash I did not count before leaving the night before, I was in trouble. The only way out was to give her a juicy story. She was always yelling at me to count the cash, and like an asshole, I forgot again.

  “Really?” She said. The irritation in her voice was nearly bubbling to the surface.

  “Yes, his name was Jeff, and he reminded me of a sexy hipster lumberjack. He was ripped. Like, I’m not sure what he does for a living, but his gym routine must be insane.”

  Sarah smiled, seeming to forget about the cash situation, and I did an internal victory dance.

  “And the best part? He’s a true southern boy. He had that thick accent and called me ‘ma’am’ and everything.”

  “Swoon,” she said.

  “And he kissed my hand.”

  “Double swoon! When are you guys going out?”

  The cinnamon roll in front of her already had its end nibbled, which meant it was time for me to devour the center, but the thought of lying to her turned my stomach. How could I tell my friend that the most stunningly good-looking man I had ever seen came into our bakery and I turned him down? Suddenly all that sugar and cream cheese goodness made me want to barf.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I lied. “I gave him my number. I guess I’ll just wait until he calls.”

  “Oh, he had better call you and ask you out. Stat!”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Yes, he had better do that.”

  I’m a bad person.

  Last night after I left, I couldn’t get Jeff out of my mind.

  Yes, he did ask me out, but guys like that are used to getting any woman they wanted. As much as I wanted to blame Ruby’s for saying no to him, that wasn’t entirely accurate. My biggest worry was that he looked like trouble.

  Sexy, sexy trouble.

  The dimple on his left cheek was practically screaming, I’m an asshole who will break your heart!

  I hate feeling this way because I am all about female empowerment, but truth be told, I hated my body. Built like an Amazon, my eyes are too big, my boobs don’t fit into anything, and I tower over men like Godzilla. I know I should love myself at any size, but it’s so difficult when all the ads on T.V. and in magazines show stick thin women.

  Don’t they know we come in all sizes?

  If any other woman told me that’s how she felt about herself, I would throttle her. But for some reason, I’ve never given myself the same courtesy.

  I’m the girl that never gets asked out on dates unless the guy is a creeper, so when Jeff asked, and then kissed my hand like a fairy-tale prince, an alarm bell rang.

  In fact, ALL the alarm bells rang.

  There’s no way in hell a drop dead sexy guy like him would ever want to date me. Sure, there was the possibility of hot sex in our future, but was that worth potentially having my heart broken?

  Besides, the endless dating cycle was getting boring. If I had to go on one more date with someone like Jerry, I might just swear off men forever.

  I wanted to call Sarah immediately to get her insight on the subject, she was always great at reminding me not to be hard on myself. But then I remembered Sarah is a mom now and has more important things on her mind.

  The days of talking me through a major crisis were over the second she gave birth. This was something I needed to deal with on my own.

  I love Bailey, but damn, do I miss my best friend.

  Chapter Seven

  Jax

  I can’t say for sure if it’s the buxom blonde that is making me forget my moves during this fight scene, but it's the only excuse I’ve got. I’ve already taken at least two shots to the neck that I should have ducked. My trainer and I spent three days going over this routine, and now I’m the one fucking up everything.

  “Jax! Duck! You’re a fucking vampire with superhuman abilities. Not a punching bag.”

  “Sorry Jerry. Give me one more shot, man. I’ll get it this time.”

  Alberto, Drake’s arch nemesis, got back into position with his rubber sword. We both looked to Jerry for the call.

  “Action!”

  The vampires circled each other slowly in the ominous patch of forest. Alberto with his sword, and Drake with the sheer power of the undead on his side. The fight wouldn’t end until one of them was dead. Neither one of them could walk away and pretend their rivalry was done.

  “I have to end this, Drake. You’ve become a monster,” Alberto spat the words at the creature in front of him.

  “You have no idea what I am capable of, Alberto. I’m not your student anymore. Now I am the teacher.”

  Drake flexed his muscles, ready for whatever Alberto might have up his sleeve.

  Like a bolt of lightening, Alberto made his move. In the blink of an eye he swung his sword toward Drake’s neck, intending to cut his head off…

  “Damn it! Cut! Everyone take lunch. Meet back here in one hour,” Jake yelled after the rubber sword hit me in the throat for the last time.

  I dropped my head into my hands while Julio, aka Alberto, laughed at me. I was almost as bad as Melody with my head in the clouds like this.

  Since last night at the bakery, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those plump, juicy red lips. I wondered if they tasted like cherries.

  After leaving Ruby’s, I paced around my house. I couldn’t concentrate on the T.V., and none of my books sounded appealing. Instead, I paced. Paced and thought about that
beautiful woman spread eagle and naked in my bed. The beer I pounded didn’t help, and before I knew it, I had a raging hard on that made concentrating on anything incredibly difficult.

  After breaking up with my ex, I promised myself no more women, at least while the show was still filming. It wasn’t fair to them or myself. Especially since every woman I had found myself with in the past six years wanted me more for my fame than anything else.

  When I got my first billboard in Times Square, the women came in droves. Every party I went to, I would meet someone new who wanted to fuck me. At first, I thought unlimited amounts of nameless sex was a dream come true. But after a while, all the faces blended together. Night after night, I found myself with the same type of women.

  Sex was great, but I needed to clear my head and go without for a while. Like an athlete prepping for a big game, I worried that having so much no strings attached sex was effecting my performance.

  Also, I didn’t want to find myself one of those guys who has been with a million women, but couldn’t remember any of their names, like Alex’s dad.

  But Chrissy was making the plan to abstain difficult. It had been a long time since someone played on my mind like she did. And I can’t believe I asked her out. I couldn’t stop myself. There I was thinking about tasting that milky white, perfect skin and before I could stop myself, the words were just pouring out.

  Also, had she really said ‘no’ like it was the most natural thing in the world?

  I had to have this woman. I needed to spend more time with her to find out how her brain worked. She was so invested in her bakery and I found that the sexiest part about her. Most of my exes had been more than happy to give up their work once they began dating me. As if I was a human ATM, ready to dispense cash whenever they needed. Something tells me Chrissy was very, very different.

  Once I realized sleep would be impossible, I hopped into the shower to ease some tension. All men know, rubbing one out before bed is basically nature’s sleeping pill. I also hoped it would clear my head for my upcoming fight scenes as well.