Mr Imperfect

by Savannah Wilde

  The enthusiasm in his eyes was difficult to refuse. “Baked goods it is, then. I assume you have a place in mind?”

  He nodded. “It’s not far and they should be able to hook you up, no problem.”

  “Thank you.” Rori knew she should ask him about his family, but hesitated. It just made the excursion feel a little bit too much like a date. Perhaps if she included Luke in the question it wouldn’t be so bad.

  “You have a unique accent,” he said, beating her to the punch. “Where are you from?”

  “A bit of everywhere,” she replied and kept it at that.

  “You traveled as a child?” he asked.

  “Extensively, yes.” This was a date conversation. She needed to change the subject. She just wasn’t sure what subject would be proper.

  “Is your dad in the military?”

  Rori laughed at that one, trying to imagine her narcissist father putting himself on the line for anyone but himself. “Not at all.”

  Mike glanced at her again, his eyes looking honestly interested in what she had to say. It was a dangerous expression on masculine face. “Did he travel for work?”

  “You could say that, but it’s irrelevant,” Rori said. “He left my mother and me when I was seven. My mother was the catalyst behind on the traveling. Education is very important to her, and she believes things are best learned firsthand, not in books. If you want to learn about Egypt, go to Egypt. If you want to learn about Buddhism, spend time with Buddhist monks. Stuff like that.”

  “That sounds awesome.”

  In theory, yes. And Rori didn’t regret it. As an adult, however, she could acknowledge that is hadn’t made for much of a childhood either, though, since she had rarely been allowed time to fraternize with children her own age. Nearly always adults.

  “Not awesome?” he ventured, making Rori realize she had taken too long on responding. The jet lag must still have her mind in a slower gear.

  “No, it was great,” she said quickly.

  “But?”

  He sounded as if he really wanted an honest answer to the question. What was even stranger, Rori realized she wanted to give him one.

  “Nothing to complain about, really. I have my mother to thank for who I am today.”

  “But what would you do differently?”

  The guy was persistent. “Probably just a little less rigor and a bit more play. Life doesn’t need to be educational 365 days out of the year.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. But still, you’re probably super smart, right?”

  “I’ve seen more than most,” she conceded.

  “And how many times have you followed a guy home after a trip?”

  He made the question playful, probably to take the tension out of it. Rori gave him points for that—not that she should be giving him points at all. “Once.”

  “Once?” he said, his expression surprised even in profile. “Just our Luke? What caught your eye?”

  Rori smiled at the memory. “Initially? His incompetence. When I first saw him he was getting ripped off by a local.”

  Mike smiled at that. “Won’t be the last time.”

  “Not without supervision, no.”

  “And you saved the day?”

  “Something like that.”

  His lips pursed in humor, and Rori found herself studying their shape—sketching them in her mind. “Sounds very romantic. Very Paper Bag Princess.”

  “Paper Bag Princess?” she asked.

  He glanced at her, his eyes still smiling seductively. “The children’s book?” He then seemed to catch himself. “You know, the book other kids were learning to read at the same age you were probably learning to translate Greek?”

  She appreciated his attempt at humor. “Ah, yes. That Paper Bag Princess.” She would need to look it up later.

  “Don’t worry about it. I only know about it because it was my little sister’s favorite when she was a kid.”

  “Kris?”

  He nodded, looking impressed that she knew her name. “Yeah. She’s a bit of a feminist. Traditional fairy tales of girls waiting around to be saved never really resonated with her.”

  “Sounds like your sister and I might have a few things on common.”

  Mike smirked. “You do.”

  He didn’t elaborate, although Rori suddenly wanted him to. He changed the subject too quickly, though.

  “So what were you doing in Thailand? Studying?”

  “You could say that,” Rori said, using the passing landscape as an excuse to stop looking at the smiles he kept sending her way. “There is a monastery that allows me to come and participate in their artistic meditative practices. It’s not studying in the traditional sense, but rather a practice in making art without becoming attached to it, since you do not preserve anything after it is completed. It’s good to learn to create without attachment. The monks help me with that.”

  That got a slow nod out of Mike, as if he were actually thinking about what she’d said. “So you’re an artist?”

  She nodded. “By trade, yes.” It was something she could say when her mother wasn’t around. There were at least a half a dozen things her mom would rather say she was.

  “Makes sense,” Mike said, eyes on the road.

  “It does?”

  “Sure,” he said easily. “In a life of so much structure, art must give you an element of freedom and expression.”

  Rori looked at him, surprised to the point of suspicion. How in the world could he know that? “Probably,” she said, even though he’d said it perfectly.

  Who was this guy? And when was he going to throw his angle at her? She really needed to shut him down, just to get it out of the way.

  For the moment the question was pushed off the table as he pulled into a parking lot for a grocery store and about a dozen other shops. Rori scanned the stores and spotted a bakery.

  “Is that the place?” she asked.

  “Yep. We’ll head in there first. It’s kind of late in the day, so I’m not sure what their selection will be. Ten minutes might be all the difference.”

  Rori nodded as he steered the SUV into a parking place. She didn’t mean to study the play of muscles under his skin as he performed the simple task. It just seemed like the most interesting thing happening at the moment.

  “What’s your mom’s favorite?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

  “Red velvet,” he said without hesitation. “My sisters-in-law all like chocolate and carrot cake. You get any of those and you’re going to be sitting pretty with them.”

  Rori didn’t wait for Mike to open the door for her again once they parked. It would just be too weird. Then again, so was walking into the bakery with him, side by side. Like a couple. Mike didn’t touch her—didn’t even try to, but for some reason that didn’t seem to matter. Rori still felt that people would look at them and see a couple, which was exactly why she wished Luke could be there with them. Then she could slip her hand into his and all of the confusion would go away.

  Maybe.

  The bakery was clearly a labor of love on part of the owner. Anthropomorphized vinyl cupcakes decorated the walls in a way that was half joyful, half children’s nursery. The art snob in Rori had some choice suggestions, but another part of her understood that moms with children probably frequented the store. Interesting walls were likely a lifesaver against the antics of bored children. All in all, the décor was pretty brilliant. And given the bubbly exuberance of the woman behind the counter, likely a direct reflection of the owner. Whoever she was, she recognized Mike on sight.

  “Well,” the woman beamed. “My shop just got a whole lot sexier. Come here, you!”

  Wiping her hands, she walked around the counter and gave Mike a big bear hug. Rori noted the wedding band on the woman’s hand at about the same moment the woman chose to give her a look over.

  “And who’s this beauty?” she said, releasing Mike.

  Mike stepped away and motioned to Rori. “This is
Rori, and she’s looking to get a present for my mom, so I told her this was the only place to come.”

  The woman reached up and gave his cheek a solid pat. “Such a smart boy.”

  Mike sent the woman a little smile before looking back at Rori. “Rori, this is Wendy and she owns this place.”

  “Good to meet you, Wendy.” Rori offered her hand, only to be surprised when she was pulled into a hug all of her own.

  “You’ve got a winner with him,” Wendy said quietly into her ear, so only Rori could hear. “You’ll hold onto him if you’re smart.”

  Rori faltered, knowing what she needed correct the woman’s assumption.

  “I’m not so sure,” Rori said, offering Mike a coy glance. “What about Luke?”

  Wendy’s sly smile grew, looking between them as if she knew a secret. “Well, I think we all know what’s going to happen there.”

  They all knew what was going to happen there? Really? Rori glanced at Mike, noting that he didn’t look confused at the statement. Did that mean he knew?

  “I’m trying a new recipe,” Wendy said, walking back behind the counter. “I need a man’s opinion.”

  “Well, twist my arm,” Mike said, even as Rori wondered how often a man with his physique ate dessert. Not often, she was quite certain.

  “I want a Father’s Day special, but you know how men are,” Wendy said, as if there was nothing else to be said on the matter. “I was trying to think of bacon options, but it’s all just too gross for me, you know? My husband loves the bacon and syrup pastries, but I honestly don’t think I could keep in them in the bakery without gagging. Too foul and they would scare the women away. Plus the bacon smell can cling to the frosting of other cupcakes, which is totally ew!”

  “Could you keep them separately?” he said, pointing to a small refrigerator that held ready-made cookie dough.

  Wendy’s expression turned stern. “Did you not hear me, Mike? I said, EW!”

  “My bad,” he said, looking appropriately chastised. “So what’s Plan B?”

  Wendy retrieved a chocolate croissant with the flourish of a magician. “Chocolate-filled, chocolate croissant!”

  Mike regarded the chocolate creation with some skepticism. “With bacon?”

  Wendy gave his arm a slap even as Rori fought a smile.

  “What’s wrong with you men?” Wendy roared. “Must things be gross to appeal to you?”

  “No,” he said, taking the croissant from her. “They just need to be manly. Something that makes other men covet or respect you.”

  He bit into the croissant then, which had Wendy’s expression turning unabashedly hopeful. He chewed a few times before passing the croissant Rori’s direction. She shouldn’t try it. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head declining it. But being both curious and starving, she accepted the croissant, ignoring the light brush of their fingers as it passed between them.

  “It’s good,” Mike said.

  “Yeah?” Wendy said, beaming. “Father’s Day good?”

  Mike moved his hand side-to-side just as Rori bit in to the dessert. Divine. Contrary to Mike’s feedback, there was nothing so-so about it.

  “I’d say it’s Mother’s Day good,” he said. “It’s like the dessert Amy makes and calls Better than Sex—which totally pisses by brother off, by the way.”

  Wendy wiggled her eyebrows. “Your brother should just bring it into the bedroom and give her both at the same time. Then see what she says.”

  A light blush rose on Mike’s face, which mesmerized Rori for some reason. That a guy like him could blush so easily? It made her wonder what else would make him blush.

  He cleared his throat. “The point is, chop up a few jalapeños, or something, and stick in that chocolate filling and then you’ll have yourself a Father’s Day dessert. As is, it’s totally girly.”

  Wendy’s eyes grew the size of saucers. “Jalapeños? Oh, I could kiss you! That’s perfect!” She looked around manically. “Oh, you make me want to start right now, but I don’t have any jalapeños.”

  “We’re headed to the store,” he said. “I can pick you up some, no problem. We’ll grab them while you put our order together.”

  “Of course,” Wendy beamed, eyes bright. “Red velvet, then? Chocolate?” Her face fell, immediately distressed. “I’m out of chocolate. Just sold them twenty minutes ago. Dammit. I shouldn’t have let them take them all. But don’t worry. I can make more. Won’t take a minute.”

  Rori saw Mike take a covert glance at the display before saying, “Actually we were going to get carrot this time. You know how Kris loves those, and we never get enough of them.”

  Rori stole her own glance at the display and fought a smile. Wendy was all sold out except for a few red velvets and about a dozen carrot cake.

  “Oh, Kris will be there?” Wendy said, pulling out a travel carton. “Then you have to have carrot. I only have fourteen. Is that enough?”

  Mike didn’t even try to hide his smile. “Six should be plenty. Plus whatever red velvets you have to spare.”

  “Of course, of course,” Wendy said, pulling out the tray.

  “Do you mind if we run to the store and come back for those?” he asked. “It will make it easier if we don’t have to carry them around or put them in a hot car longer than necessary.”

  “Of course!” Wendy repeated. “Go. They’ll be ready when you get back. And don’t forget my—”

  “Jalapeños,” Mike said with her. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be right back.”

  The world became abruptly silent once the bakery door was shut behind them, and Mike sent Rori an almost apologetic smile. “She loves her work.”

  “And she’s amazing at it,” Rori said, gesturing with the croissant in her hand. “This is decadent.”

  “A girl dessert. Maybe even a couple’s dessert for a restaurant, but not something you give your dad on Father’s Day.”

  Okay. Maybe he had a point. But it was still the best thing Rori had put in her mouth in recent memory. “But jalapeños in a dessert?”

  Mike stopped in his tracks. “Are you serious? Have you seriously never tried chocolate and peppers?”

  Rori shook her head, trying not to smile at how scandalized he looked. And likeable. A guy like him was far too easy to look at for him to have a good personality on top of it. He must be flawed. Deeply. There was a reason the Mr. Perfect who had just gotten her to eat a chocolate croissant as easy as breathing was currently single. Single, hot men were single because they never committed. No need to romanticize otherwise.

  “I’ll get you some,” he said, as if that was the end of the matter.

  “Here?” she said, glancing at the store.

  “No, they won’t have it here,” he said. “But sometime.”

  Rori wasn’t sure why she nodded. She hadn’t eaten a chocolate bar since she was a teenager, but suddenly it seemed like the rational thing to do. One should know what two exotic flavors tasted like together, after all.

  Once they entered the store, Mike moved with surprising speed. He grabbed vanilla a food coloring almost before Rori was aware that he had even paused, and after that he headed to the produce section to buy three times as many jalapeños as Wendy could ever need. In under three minutes they were in and out of the store.

  That shouldn’t be sexy, Rori told herself. A man knowing his way around a grocery store and buying more for a woman he’d had a casual conversation with than he did for himself?

  No, surely that wasn’t sexy. She must be reacting to the croissant. Which had been delicious. Then again, so was play of muscles in his arms as he carried the large bag of jalapeños.

  And since when had she become obsessed with arms?

  Probably about the same time she’d found a pair of arms worth staring at, Rori decided. Some things were just worth enjoying. Chocolate croissants and strong arms being among them.

  “Oh my goodness!” Wendy called, opening the door to her store while they were still a ways off. “I
should have told you not to get so many. I would have been fine with a dozen or so.”

  Mike waved that off. “No need for you to have to go to the store again today. These should be enough to experiment with.”

  “And then some,” she said. “How much do I owe you?”

  “You owe me the first taste once you perfect the recipe,” he said without missing a beat.

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, eyeing the bag and clearly doing some mental math.

  “I’m dead serious,” Mike said, handing the sack over. “It’s more than a fair trade on my side.”

  “Hmmph,” Wendy said, eyes narrowed even as she accepted defeat. “Well, then, now that your hands are free, you can be a gentleman and carry these cupcakes for the lady while she pays.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mike said, walking into the shop. Two large boxes sat on the counter, and Mike picked them up, light as pillows, before looking at Rori. “See you at the car?”

  Rori nodded.

  Wendy held the door for Mike. “Tell your mother hi.”

  “Will do,” he said and gave her one last smile before continuing to the car.

  When Wendy let the door shut, she leveled an uncharacteristically shrewd gaze on Rori.

  Uh-oh. The woman was going to say something awkward.

  “Is he always that nice?” Rori blurted, hoping to distract the woman.

  “Always,” Wendy said without hesitation. “Known that boy since he was twelve. They don’t come any better.”

  Great. That was just great. “How much do I owe you?”

  Wendy held up the bag of peppers. “Are you kidding me? A great idea and the ingredients? This one’s on the house, as long as you take note to treat that boy right. Don’t just take when he gives, even though he’ll let you. Give back to that boy. He deserves it.”

  Rori glanced at Mike’s retreating form, curious despite herself. “Is that his fatal flaw? He lets women take advantage of him?”