The Delicious Series: The First Volume

by Stella Starling

  “It sounds like there’s a definite demand for wedding cakes,” Ben said. “But I wasn’t trying to say that you should work all the time, Gav. You could always use this break to have some fun.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “I may have forgotten how,” he admitted with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “That would be a shame.”

  “What would be a shame?” Danny asked, bouncing toward them with his arms full of reports.

  Gavin relieved him of his burden, glancing through the stack to make sure Danny had brought him everything he needed.

  “Ben thinks I should have more fun,” he answered absently, flipping through the latest sales numbers from the referral campaign they’d talked about earlier.

  “Really?” Danny asked, grinning with delight. “I think I like you, Ben.”

  “And I think I like your cupcakes,” Ben said. “The way you decorate them is amazing.”

  Danny glowed. “Thank you.”

  Ben got up, motioning Danny toward his empty chair. “If you two need to go over business for a few minutes, I’m going to pick out a few dozen to take into the bank tomorrow.”

  Danny slid into the empty seat while Gavin admired the sight of Ben walking away. Good Lord, the man’s ass was truly a thing of beauty.

  “Oh my God,” Danny said, pushing the paperwork aside and leaning across the table with a ridiculously loud stage whisper. “Hot Banker is totally into you, Gav!”

  Gavin pulled his eyes away from Ben’s assets with an effort. “No, sweetie, he’s not,” he corrected Danny, refusing to be disappointed about the simple truth. No point wanting things that weren’t available. “Ben is just a friend. A very straight friend.”

  “Mm-hmm. Last I heard he was just your banker, and now he’s your ‘friend’? A friend who just happens to invite you to sleep over…? I’m sorry, honey, but that man is far too attentive for me to buy that. He wants you.”

  Gavin laughed. “Stop. God. Seriously. Your misplaced enthusiasm is only rubbing in the fact that it’s never going to happen.”

  Danny gasped theatrically. “You doubt me?” he asked, doing his best to look wounded as he put a hand over his heart. The sparkle in his eyes ruined the effect, though, and Gavin had to laugh. Danny was priceless. “Don’t try to lie to me,” Danny added, dropping the act but keeping the sparkle. “I know you too well, Gav. You do like him.”

  “I don’t,” Gavin denied automatically. But he couldn’t stomach lying to his best friend. “Not that way. And okay, yes, I probably would if there was any point to it,” he admitted. “But there’s not. And I’m good with just being friends. Ben is great. Amazing, really. But totally straight.”

  “Do I need to remind you of how long I mistakenly believed my man was straight, too?” Danny asked, grinning. He held up his hand, twisting it so the light glinted off his engagement ring. “And look where that got me.”

  “You and Mace are different, Danny.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really, really sure?”

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?” Gavin asked, biting back his smile. No need to encourage Danny. Not that a lack of encouragement was going to keep his starry-eyed friend from believing in happy endings.

  Danny’s smile widened.

  Gavin was going to have to nip this particular fairy tale in the bud, though, otherwise Danny would never stop.

  “Ben,” Gavin called out, thankful that the bakery had emptied out of other customers for the moment. “Will you please tell Danny that you’re straight, so he stops trying to play matchmaker?”

  Brandon was in the middle of ringing up Ben’s cupcake order, and the man in question turned to face them, his cheeks turning that ridiculously attractive shade of pink that Gavin remembered from the hospital. “Straight? Um… yes?”

  “Oh my God,” Danny mumbled, shaking his head with a look of dismay. He leaned in as soon as Ben turned away, hissing, “Have you ever heard of being subtle, Gav?”

  “Subtlety is nothing more than a recipe for misunderstanding.” Gavin gave Danny a pointed look meant to remind him of his own history in that regard. “Trust me, I think everyone will be happier if we all just lay our cards on the table. There’s no point holding onto false hope.”

  “Hope is never false,” Danny insisted.

  Danny wasn’t going to give up. “Ben just told you he was straight,” Gavin reminded his friend. “Straight,” he repeated, enunciating it clearly to make sure he got it through Danny’s head. And his own. Not that Gavin needed the reminder. He’d already known what Ben’s answer would be, so there was no reason to be disappointed at hearing it.

  Danny opened his mouth, looking like he was still going to argue the point, but when Ben approached the table with his box of cupcakes in hand, Danny snapped it closed again, settling for waggling his eyebrows in some form of silent communication that Gavin pretended to ignore.

  “Ready to go?” Ben asked. He set the cupcakes down to help Gavin out of the chair, steadying his arm once he was up until he got situated on his crutches. “I’ve got those,” he added when Gavin awkwardly reached for the stack of paperwork waiting on the table. Ben scooped up the reports and his cupcakes, then went to hold the door for Gavin.

  Gavin laughed despite himself as Danny’s “Mm-hmm” followed him out.

  “What?” Ben asked, grinning down at him.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Danny is a hopeless romantic, but I love him. Sorry. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

  “Not at all.”

  Gavin laughed again, noting the telltale pink that started to bloom on Ben’s cheeks as the other man held the car door open for him.

  “Okay, maybe a little,” Ben admitted. He tucked the crutches into the back seat, then closed the passenger door firmly after Gavin managed to swing his bulky cast in. “It’s just that I’m not used to it,” Ben added once he slid into the driver’s seat, sounding apologetic.

  “Not used to being treated like eye candy?” Gavin asked, remembering the way Danny had looked Ben up and down back in the prep area. Not that Gavin could blame him. He’d definitely been guilty of the same, when he thought he could get away with it. “Or just not used to being around gay men, in general?”

  “Right,” Ben answered. Then, when Gavin cocked an eyebrow at him, added, “Both.”

  “Well, I guess you’re about to get used to it,” Gavin said, laughing at Ben’s expression. “If you’re sure about inviting me to stay with you a little longer, that is.” That made Ben look even more flustered, so Gavin decided to have mercy on him, adding, “I’m talking about being around a gay man, of course, not the eye candy part.”

  Ben grinned. “Oh? I don’t qualify?”

  Gavin shook his head, laughing again. “Stop, or I’m going to accuse you of flirting. Did Danny put you up to teasing me?”

  “I think it comes naturally,” Ben said, winking.

  Oh, Lord. Gavin really had to rein in the conversation before he forgot himself. Ben was far too appealing.

  He cleared his throat. “About me imposing on you—”

  “You’re not,” Ben cut him off.

  “Okay, but honestly—”

  Ben laughed.

  “What?” Gavin asked, bewildered.

  “Are you ever anything else?”

  Gavin looked away. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that, although from other men, the question usually came out more like an accusation.

  “Sorry,” he said, tamping down old memories as he watched the familiar row of shops pass by out his window. “I know I tend to be straightforward. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush.”

  “Hey, that wasn’t a dig,” Ben said, covering his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I like that about you.”

  Gavin stared down at Ben’s hand, waiting for him to take it away. He didn’t.

  O-kay.

  “You’re very… physical, aren’t you?” he asked. �
�Comfortable with touching, I mean. Especially for a straight guy.”

  Ben took his eyes off the road for a second, glancing over at his own hand as if he’d only just realized he was all but holding Gavin’s. He took it away.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “That wasn’t a dig,” Gavin repeated back, grinning. “I like that about you.”

  Ben laughed, but kept both hands on the steering wheel for the rest of the drive. Which was a shame.

  Or maybe not.

  Because if Gavin were really being honest—and like Ben had pointed out, he always was—there were far too many things that Gavin liked about Ben. Enough that it would be easy to try to start looking for meaning in the man’s actions that wasn’t ever going to be there, if he let himself.

  So he wouldn’t.

  “Wait,” Gavin said urgently, coming half out of his seat. “You’re not going to put that in the oven yet, are you?”

  Ben paused, looking down at the pale slabs of skinless chicken breast in the baking dish he held uncertainly.

  “Yes…?”

  “Ben,” Gavin said, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. There was a difference between being plainspoken and outright rude, after all. “Is there a reason you prefer—” …tasteless, boring, cardboard-like… “—bland food?”

  Ben raised an eyebrow, then laughed, shaking his head. “I got in the habit of eating healthy back when I used to run track in school,” Ben said with an easy smile. Not offended. Good. “Although maybe that’s just an excuse for the fact that I’m clueless about what to do in the kitchen.”

  Ben had gone for a short run after he came home from the bank, and after his shower, he’d settled on a pair of low-slung gym shorts, and nothing else. The sight made it easy for Gavin to think of a quite a few things that Ben could do in the kitchen, but he clamped down hard on that line of thinking as soon as it sprang up. He was not going to let himself go there.

  No matter how hard it was not to.

  Oh, Lord. Gavin gave himself a mental eye roll. Even in the privacy of his own head, he couldn’t help hearing sexual innuendo in every Ben-related thought that… popped up.

  “Healthy doesn’t have to mean boring, though,” Gavin said, determined to keep his mind off his cock. Living with Ben for the past few days had definitely put that to the test, but it was definitely worth ignoring his attraction to keep their newfound friendship from getting weird. Ben may have been hot, but he was also many other things, and Gavin didn’t want to lose all of those other things just because he couldn’t swallow—God, there he went again—the fact that friendship was all that would ever be on the table. “I’m no chef,” he added, nodding toward the chicken and desperately hoping his thoughts didn’t show on his face. “But I guarantee that’s going to taste better if you add a few spices. Otherwise…”

  Ben made a face. “I know. Chicken breast is pretty dull.”

  “So what have you got?” Gavin asked, hopping around to the other side of the kitchen island without bothering with his crutches. He’d only been using them for four days, but the things were already making his underarms sore. He glanced over at Ben for permission, making sure to keep his eyes on the other man’s face—not a hardship, then started opening cupboard doors one he got the nod.

  “Spices?” Ben said. “I don’t know. Maybe… um, pepper?”

  Oh, Lord. Ben was right. That looked like the extent of it. But just in case he’d missed something… “Salt?” Gavin asked hopefully.

  “I try to avoid it.”

  “Okay. How about garlic salt— or, powder? No? Rosemary? Paprika? Cayenne? Thyme?”

  Ben’s head seemed to be set on perma-shake, and the sheepish look on his face really shouldn’t have been so appealing.

  “Okay,” Gavin said, laughing. “Pepper it is. Ben, you have many wonderful qualities, but this…” He shook his head sadly.

  “I know, trust me. Like I said, clueless. But make me a list, Gav. Spices and anything else you want. I’ll pick up some groceries tomorrow.”

  Gavin cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “If I stock your cupboards, will you actually use any of it after I leave?”

  “I can’t make any promises, but maybe you’ll have me better trained by then,” Ben said with a wink as he reached for the pepper Gavin had pulled out. He sprinkled a little over the chicken, shooting Gavin another apologetic look, and popped it in the oven.

  Talk of leaving dampened his spirits, despite Ben’s sexy wink. But it was probably for the best.

  “I doubt there’s time for you to pick anything up from me,” Gavin said, realizing he should just pull off the Band-Aid. Being around Ben was too addictive. “I really am getting the hang of those things.” He waved a hand toward his crutches, trying not to grimace. Even though it was true, they were still… not fun. “I should probably think about moving back to my place.”

  Ben frowned. “Are you uncomfortable here? Is there something else you need?”

  “No, of course not. Everything is perfect.”

  Ben shot a look at the oven, quirking his lip up in silent commentary.

  Gavin laughed. “Food notwithstanding,” he amended. “But Ben, let’s be real. You’ve been amazing to help me out this way, but we both know you didn’t sign up for a long-term roommate.”

  Ben was never going to admit it when Gavin eventually overstayed his welcome—the man was just too damn nice for that—and if Gavin didn’t push for it, he would end up getting far too comfortable with the current situation. Something he was already at risk of doing. Even though it had been less than a week, the two of them already seemed to fit seamlessly together, revolving around each other in an easy rhythm that made it feel like they’d known each other for years.

  Gavin sighed, rubbing at the ache in his hip. Keeping all his weight on one leg was taking a toll. It had been easy to say yes to Ben’s offer to stay a few more days when he’d been in pain and overwhelmed by the thought of the myriad inconveniences that he knew his broken foot was going to cause, but now that he’d started to get the hang of things, it was time to stand on his own two feet again. So to speak.

  Ben’s eyes tracked the motion. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filling it with water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door, then handed it to Gavin with a couple of Tylenol capsules from the bottle he’d left out on the counter earlier. Gavin swallowed them gratefully.

  “You should sit down,” Ben said. “Take one of the counter stools. I’ll pull a chair over to prop your foot up on.”

  “Thanks,” Gavin said, following his advice. “But listen, I can call Danny tomorrow, or maybe Jeremy, and see if one of them can come get me while you’re at work. I’m sure you’d appreciate having me out of your hair before the weekend.”

  Ben was looking at him oddly, and after a minute, he asked, “Do you want to leave, Gavin?”

  “No, I— I mean, obviously I have to leave at some point. You’ve really gone out of your way for me, Ben, but I would feel like a shit if I kept imposing on your hospitality.”

  “You’re not imposing. I told you that. I like having you here, Gavin. But I understand if being stuck here is making you stir crazy. If you need me to help you coordinate getting out of the house and doing things, I can do that. Or if you need to pick up some more things from your apartment, or the bakery… and of course the groceries. Just tell me what you need. I’m sure we can make this work.”

  Gavin shook his head, looking away. Lord, the man was tempting him. Ben seemed so sincere, and it would be too easy to say yes.

  Ben put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Gavin? Will you stay with me? I really don’t want you to go.”

  Gavin’s breath hitched, and he let it out in a gust. Jesus. “Still feeling guilty?” he asked, needing to remind himself about the root of Ben’s interest in helping him.

  “No,” Ben said, his brow furrowing. “I mean, yes, of course, but that’s not why I w
ant you to stay.”

  “Why do you want me to stay?”

  “Because, I—” Ben paused uncertainly. “I want… I mean, I like… you’re just…” He chuffed out a breath, finally grinning at his own bumbling attempt to answer. “I don’t know, Gav,” he said, shrugging. “But I don’t like the idea of not having you around. Not yet, okay?” The timer on the stove chimed, and Ben grabbed an oven mitt, winking as he added, “Maybe I just need something delicious in my life.”

  Which clearly referred to their conversation about food, Gavin reminded himself firmly.

  The man liked to tease. He liked to touch. It didn’t mean anything. Ben may have been sweet, and sexy, and smart… but he was also straight. If Gavin were to let himself think anything else, it would put him at serious risk of doing something stupid.

  And he wasn’t stupid.

  Then again—

  “I’ll stay,” he said, ignoring the little flip his heart did when Ben’s face lit up at his answer.

  —Shit. Maybe he was.

  8

  Ben

  Ben’s parents still lived in the house he’d grown up in, the quiet neighborhood as familiar as air. The driveway was full, so he parked in the street, then came around to help Gavin with his crutches. By the time they made it to the front door, his mother had already thrown it open.

  “This is your friend, Ben?” she asked, her eyes skittering over Gavin for a moment before she craned her neck to look over Ben’s shoulder, as if she hoped to find someone else hiding behind him.

  Her little frown was as out-of-character as the disappointment apparent in her voice, and Ben shot her a reprimanding look, hoping Gavin hadn’t picked up on either one. The last thing he wanted was for Gavin to feel unwelcome in his family home.

  His mother flushed with embarrassment.

  “Goodness, I’m so sorry! That was incredibly rude of me,” she said immediately, responding to Ben’s look. She reached for Gavin’s hands, giving them an awkward squeeze when she realized he couldn’t let go of the crutches. “I’m Charlotte, Ben’s mama, but please call me Charlie. We’re so happy to have you for dinner… ?”