I inhaled a slow, deep breath as Neil snorted beside me. “Take it from me, Liam. Don’t let a good thing pass you by just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not sca—”
“I see the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her. Just… don’t wait too long, okay? Girls like Chloe? They don’t stay single for long.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” I admitted. “Chloe has never been alone for any length of time. Maybe she needs to not be with me or anyone for a while.”
I knew Neil was right. I thought she was wise to take some time for herself, but she would move on eventually. A lump lodged in my throat at the thought. I had to steel my heart for this—it was going to happen. And probably soon. “Chloe and I are friends, okay? That’s all.”
“If you say so,” Finn sang from over near the registers while Neil scoffed but didn’t say anything more.
I opened my mouth to argue when the bells over the door chimed and Chloe came strolling quietly back inside. Too quietly. Chloe had two levels and that was it—excited… and nuclear.
She slowly made her way back to the table and plopped down beside me.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She nodded, her full lips parted as though she was about to speak, but no words came out. A dim flush raced across her high cheekbones and I pressed my palm to her forehead, feeling for a fever. “Are you sick?” I asked again.
“That was a producer for Coffee Talk with Bruce and Jill.”
“Bruce Vick and Jill Moore?”
“Isn’t that what Mom always watches in the morning?” Finn asked.
“Probably” She nodded, blinking rapidly as a spectacular grin spread across her face. “They heard about The Dump Truck… and they want to have us on the show. Their national cable morning talk show. Next week.”
Air punched from my lungs. “This is big, right?”
Chloe nodded, her eyes wide. “This is huge, Liam.”
“How in the hell are we going to go to New York next week?” I asked quietly. “Neil is leaving on Saturday and we haven’t even interviewed everyone yet.”
“We don’t have to,” Chloe cut me off quickly. “They’re willing to shoot on location and come here to Maple Grove.”
Holy shit. “It’s a six-hour drive from New York—that’s crazy.”
“They said they wanted to get footage of our actual truck. Another opportunity like this may never come along again,” Chloe said. “People work their whole lives for this sort of exposure.”
Our eyes met, and my body stiffened in shock. Panic climbed up my gut, lodging in my throat. It was too much. With my mom’s surgery and Neil leaving and Beefcakes orders and the truck… I didn’t have the time for everything. “But—” I started but was promptly cut off by Neil.
“No buts,” my brother said, his voice stern. “You said this food truck was your dream, right?”
It was… is. If I could choose only one endeavor in my life, it would be the food truck. Slowly, I nodded. “Okay, then,” Neil said. “There’s no choice here. You’re doing the interview… and the exposure will be life changing.”
“I can handle Beefcakes that day,” Finn said. “I know most of your recipes and I’ve done the basic baking before.”
“You’re willing to wake up at three o’clock? Make sure all the special orders are packed and ready to go and that we have enough inventory to make it a whole day?” Yes, Finn had filled in before, but usually Neil and I had half of the cupcakes pre-baked and special orders already finished. Which I wasn’t sure I could promise right after Mom’s surgery.
Finn rolled his eyes at me, seemingly unworried. “I was raised by the same mother you both were. Just because I don’t bake constantly doesn’t mean I can’t. I may not be able to do all the fancy unicorn decorations and shit… but if you leave me the recipes, I can bake a damn good cupcake. And I can pipe some rosettes on top. It won’t be the fanciest day in Beefcakes history… but we won’t lose a day of profit either.”
Chloe grinned at me. “Sounds like you’re out of excuses, Evans.”
I smiled back. “Even if I had more excuses, these two might kick my ass if I say no.”
“Hell, yeah we would,” Finn laughed.
Neil nodded. “I would kick your ass and enjoy every second.”
21
Liam
The next morning, I pulled into my normal parking spot in front of Beefcakes at three-thirty in the morning. I had gotten pretty used to these bleary-eyed mornings where I was only semi-conscious. I could create most of the bakery menu on autopilot by now.
As I got out of my car, keys in hand, I halted mid-step, shocked to see Chloe standing there, leaning against the front door of the bakery in a thigh-exposing pair of running shorts that left very little to the imagination. And one of her crop top t-shirts that revealed sexy abs that I’d seen way too many times already. It was cruel. Unjust. Like dangling a steak in front of a famished dog. “Chloe?” She offered me a sleepy smile and handed me one of the two coffee cups in her hand. “What the hell are you doing here?” I took the coffee from her, my eyes wandering to where her teeth slid across her rosy bottom lip.
As I stepped forward to unlock the door, she took a sip of her coffee, wrapping her bubblegum pink lips around the edge of the to-go cup. “We’ve got some baking to do. Four hands are better than two.”
I paused, my key midway into the lock as I asked, “We?”
She walked ahead of me while I finished unlocking the door and tossed a cheeky glance my way from over her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be the only one getting zero sleep. It’s our food truck.” She plucked one of the spare aprons from the rack behind the counter and tossed it over her head. “I should learn how to make the menu items, too.”
I blinked, locking the front door behind us. “I’m sorry… you’re going to learn to bake?”
She smiled, giving me a resolute nod. “That’s right.”
“Do I need to remind you of the unicorn disaster from several weeks ago?” I said with a grimace.
“That was different.” She tilted her chin higher. Her lips pinching, determined.
“How so?”
“I wasn’t really trying to learn back then.”
“Then what were you trying to do?” I asked, mimicking the timbre of her voice.
“Flirt,” she stated with a simple honesty that I wasn’t ready for. It momentarily knocked the air from my lungs. “But I’ll pay more attention now. There’s too much to lose.”
I crossed behind the counter and grabbed one of the other aprons. “You’re being a bit dramatic. We’re not going to lose the food truck just because I’m lacking on a couple hours of sleep.”
The tight line of her stern brow softened and she drew her lips in thoughtfully as she took a step closer to me. “I’m not nearly as worried about the business as I am about you. You can’t keep going like this—on a few hours of sleep every day with hardly any days off. And it’s just going to get worse once Neil is gone. A candle that burns at both ends burns twice as fast, Liam. And I’m not going to let you burn out… not if I can help it.”
The flicker in her eyes was arresting; captivating. “I still need to wake up early to bake for Beefcakes… with or without your help.”
She nodded. “Half the time, yes. Normally, you and Neil split that task… but now your new employee will eventually be able to take over some of this early baking, right?”
I nodded. Yes, that was the plan. But it could take weeks for me to train our new manager solely on the cash register, let alone the time it would take me to teach him our recipes in order for him to be able to do all the baking.
“And Finn’s made it clear that he can do most of the basics.”
That was true. Neil and I didn’t give Finn too many chances to shine. We typically just barreled in and did most of the work ourselves. Finn had baked and opened for us before… so why was I so reluctant to hand over the reins now? What was this martyrdom
I forced upon myself?
And holy shit, I couldn’t think straight with Chloe standing in front of me, with her floral scent flooding my senses. “So,” she continued, “If Finn can do the baking once a week for Beefcakes. And a new employee can also do the baking one or two times a week. Plus, I learn how to do the baking for the food truck… that means you can sleep in like a normal human at least a couple times a week. Get back on a regular schedule.”
“You’re worried about me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course I am,” she laughed as she spoke. A breathy chuckle that raced across my skin.
I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to claim her lips once and for all before anyone else had the chance. Instead, I took a deep breath and a step back, handing her a spatula. I had to play this right if I was going to succeed. I had to make sure the next time I kissed her that there was no way she’d say no or push me away.
The next time I kissed her, it would be because she wanted me to.
“Well then,” I managed to say. “Let’s get baking.
22
Chloe
By six a.m., I had learned half the menu… the easy items, at least. I knew how to prepare the mac and cheese balls, and the cookies for the ice cream sandwiches. Okay, maybe that wasn’t half of the menu. But it was a start. And within two and a half hours, we were done with most of the baking—for both Beefcakes and The Dump Truck.
I washed my hands, looking over my shoulder at Liam triumphantly. “What time did you say you usually finish your baking for the day?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not usually done until after Finn or Neil has come in to open the bakery to customers around seven.”
Raising my brows, I grinned. “So maybe with both of us working together each morning, we can start a little later… and you can get more sleep?”
He crossed toward me, reaching around my hips to grab a tea towel. His sharp citrus and cedar scent twisted around me, fogging my thoughts. God, he smelled good. “You want to do this again?”
His words knocked into me, sending me off-balance. “I said I was going to help bake from now on… and I meant that.” Anger suddenly boiled inside of me. Did he not take me seriously either? After all we had been through together? “I’ll be here tomorrow. And the day after that. Every day you have to be here at three-thirty, I will be here at three-thirty. And I think we should have at least one designated day off for the truck. To give us both a much-needed break.”
He nodded, then fell back, leaning against the counter. “Maybe… Wednesdays?”
“Wednesday it is,” I repeated. Still, I was annoyed. And tears stung the backs of my eyes. Why did it hurt so damn much that Liam didn’t take me seriously? I was used to this feeling with other people. Almost everyone in my life saw me as flighty … I guess I just thought Liam would be different. That Liam would think I was different.
I grabbed a metal sheet pan, poured some dish soap onto a sponge, and started scrubbing dishes furiously in the sink, dropping pan after pan into the sudsy water.
The silence was tense for a long minute, and I nearly scratched the pan with how hard I scrubbed. Finally, Liam said, “You’re angry.”
“Well deduced, Hardy Boy,” I said, my voice cutting sharply through the sound of running water.
“Chloe,” he admonished. “Why the hell are you mad?”
I balanced the clean cupcake pan on the drying rack and whirled around to face him. He was standing close to me—closer than I expected—and I lost my balance, my lower back pressing against the edge of the sink as I caught myself. “Because… you don’t take me seriously. Just like everyone else in my life, you thought I’d be here for a day and then gone tomorrow. You saw Tasmanian Chloe with her latest flight of fancy… this week: Baking!” I held up jazz hands to emphasize the point.
I moved to storm off, but Liam quickly stepped in my way, not letting me pass. “Don’t tell me what I see when I look at you,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “Don’t pretend you know anything that I’m thinking.” His voice held a quiet calm, but I could hear the warning growl within it.
“And look!” I threw my hands up, interrupting him. “Now I’m a bitch. I’m irrationally angry, and even though it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be mad, I am and I’m not the quiet kind of girl who can sit silently by to let my anger diffuse on its own, okay?” I huffed an exhale and crossed my arms.
There was a spark in his eyes; a flaming ember that both excited and scared me as he took yet another predatory step closer. “I’m not asking you to change. I didn’t ask you to hold your anger in. All I asked was why you were angry.”
I licked my lips and felt the moisture brimming in my eyes against my blink. “I know,” I whispered. “But most people ask me to change in one way or another. I figured it was just a matter of time.”
He shook his head. “Never.”
A burning breath stalled in my chest as all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room. “You say that now.”
“I’m sorry.” He searched my upturned face and even though he was standing intensely close to me, he didn’t touch me. And thank God for that. I was so desperate for the feel of his hands or lips on my body that one skim of a knuckle or brush of an elbow would have done me in. My body trembled underneath the scrutiny of his gaze. “I didn’t mean to insult you by insinuating you weren’t serious about helping me. I just know from experience that this life—a life of waking up hours before sunrise—it’s not fun. You won’t have a social life. You’re going to be falling asleep and taking naps at all hours of the day. And… this isn’t your dream.” He gestured around the kitchen. “You don’t want to be a baker. You love marketing. Do you really think you’re going to have time to grow your consulting firm if you’re working a food truck from eight until midnight, then here in the early mornings for a few hours of prep work?”
I licked my lips and opened my mouth to answer, but words stuck at the back of my throat. With the craziness of the food truck, I hadn’t had time to work on my marketing business. I was either working the truck, or doing PR for Beefcakes.
His arms fell on either side of the counter around me, and I almost couldn’t hear his next words over the thunderous rush of blood in my ears. “I’m not going to allow you to give up your dream so that I can accomplish mine.”
Silence settled between us like a weighted blanket. I studied his face; his strong jaw and intense, moss-green eyes. His broad nose, a strong, razor-sharp line that pointed directly to full, sensual lips. “Do you have to be so perfect?” I asked, my voice breaking.
He scoffed, and even the snorted huff managed to be masculine and sexy. “I'm far from perfect.”
I reached up and brushed my finger over that sexy chin dimple of his and was rewarded with his guttural moan. The sound did strange things to me. Hot, gooey, carnal things that resonated at the apex of my thighs. I clenched them together, aching for even more of that feeling while clinging to whatever shred of restraint I could hold onto.
Elena's words tickled the back of my mind. You two are good together. If you like him, you should go for it.
God, I wanted to. Despite being Tasmanian Chloe. I wanted to wrap myself around Liam and drag him into my depths. I wanted to drown us both with reckless abandon.
My eyes refocused, shifting from his chin dimple back to his eyes, which were locked on me with an intensity I had never felt before—from him or any other man.
With his arms still caging me against the sink, a million questions were reflected back to me within his eyes, but he was also looking at me with the exact same hunger I was feeling.
I didn't want to blink. I didn't want to look away. I was afraid that the moment I did, I'd lose my nerve. Or he would.
"Chloe," he warned, as I slid my hands up the warm sinews of his chest.
If he was trying to deter me, he failed miserably. Hearing my name on his lips did the opposite. It was the accelerant on an already burning flame.
I pushed
onto my toes and brushed my lips to his. Just this once. I needed to kiss him. I needed to feel his lips on mine. What would the harm be? One night together to see if there was something good here between us.
The kiss was slow and lingering, and I gasped as I pulled away, the moan that escaped from my lips surprising us both.
“Promise me nothing will change,” I whispered as his lips brushed just below my ear causing a violent shiver to tear down my spine.
His face shifted, dipping into a frown. “I can’t make that promise.”
My throat went tight. I was the girl who jumped from one relationship to the next. The girl who didn’t know how to be alone according to the Maple Grove gossip mill. But I wanted Liam… even if just for tonight. I wanted him more than I wanted anything.
His breath was hot on my ear as his kisses drifted there. “But I can promise you, it’ll be worth it.”
Oh, God. My knees went weak at his words and I didn’t doubt them for a second. “This is only for tonight. This one time.”
A shield passed over his face, his expression unreadable. Liam’s face was rarely unreadable to me anymore, and the feeling unnerved me to my core. “Then I’d better make it damn good, huh?”
In a swift movement, he tilted my head back, claiming my mouth. The kiss was intense, passionate, and everything I had hoped it would be. His mouth was firm and hot and I tasted remnants of buttercream from when he had sampled his own cupcake earlier. He parted my lips, and licked into my mouth, devouring my moan with gentle strokes of his tongue.
Heady breaths streamed into me as his strong, hard muscles pressed me harder against the counter. My thoughts twisted with that kiss. Right was left; up was down; and what should be bad was so freaking good.
I’d known Liam was a good kisser. I knew it back when we were sixteen and I knew it back on that first night we spent together at my house after Dan broke up with me. But this? This was different. Liam’s lips transported me to a different world. One where I didn’t have money concerns or a shitty cheater of an ex-fiancé. With that kiss, he not only fused our lips together… but also our hearts.
Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) Page 15
