by Karr, Kim
Biting my lip to control my giggling, I clarified the situation to help him out. “Montgomery Laurent is the master baker, and he owns The Bride Box. I’m a wedding planner.”
Almost business-like, he slipped his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt and straightened up. “Good,” he said, “then you won’t be upset if I tell you those birds look a little too real to be on top of something people are going to be eating.”
Uncertain how to take his comment, I responded with, “Don’t you like birds?”
He shrugged.
Shrugged!
And then he was standing almost at my side. “Sure, I like birds. Just not on top of a cake. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certain they are appealing . . . to the right person.”
Trying not to be offended, because really, what did he know about this bride, and her likes and dislikes, anyway, I decided it was time to move him along. “Are you looking for Archer?” I asked, hoping my point would come across.
Beat it, buddy.
“Archer?” he questioned, clearly distracted.
And not by the cake this time. He had fully rounded the table and was now standing less than a foot away from me.
This had to be the flirtiest technician on the planet, and I began to feel the oddest blush coat my cheeks from the manner in which he was now staring at me.
Those blue eyes of his darted across my face, once, twice, three times. I would have sworn they were laughing at me if I didn’t feel the heat in them right between my thighs.
“Yes, Archer,” I tried to say in a huff, but it came out more like a dreamy sigh.
Oh, boy.
He stepped even closer to me.
For some insane reason, my pulse started to race, and things that felt like butterflies in my belly seized me. These had to be new client butterflies, but I’d never gotten them like this before.
“I’m sorry if I’m staring,” he said, lifting his arm, “but I think you have a little—” As the words tumbled from his mouth, his finger slowly swiped across my bottom lip.
I closed my eyes.
“Frosting, right here,” he finished.
Oh my God!
My lids popped open. That was what he was looking at. Frosting on my lips. And here I had thought he might be into me. Flirting with me. Maybe even wanted to go out with me.
How embarrassing!
As if he sensed my disappointment, his eyes lowered beneath their lashes. I inhaled at the shock-like feeling that jolted through me as his gaze traveled down my entire body and then back up again.
My brain was a little flustered, and I was having trouble concentrating on any one thing. But when he held up the chocolate he’d wiped from my lip, and then slowly licked it from his finger, I was able to focus just fine. Now it was my racing heart I couldn’t keep track of.
“Not bad,” he breathed.
Not bad!
Furious, I blinked out of my lustful haze.
I was really ready to tell him to beat it, that was until his eyes came back to my face, and he offered me such a searing look, I let the comment go.
After all, to him, it was just a cake. He didn’t know any better. It wasn’t his fault.
And . . . he was into me.
I had been right.
In fact, by the way he was now looking at me, I thought he might just be the one to love me forever.
In that one single moment though, it wasn’t love on my mind. I’d started to question what the hell I had been thinking only moments ago. Had I actually thought chocolate cake was better than sex?
If I had, I was so taking that back.
Why on earth was this security technician making me think about sex? The answer struck me so quickly, it made me weak in the knees—it was because I wanted to have it with him. And by the way his chest had started to rise and fall at a rapid pace, I knew if I asked him to meet me later, he wasn’t going to refuse.
Here Montgomery thought I never did anything crazy.
The words just slipped off my tongue. “What are you doing later?”
Intrigue gleamed in his eyes as he raised a single brow. “I believe I’m meeting with you to plan the wedding, and afterward I have to go to work, but—”
Meeting with me?
A cold shiver ran down my spine at the exact moment a beep-beep alerted me that someone had come through the front door. This confused me. How could the security system have been updated already if the technician was standing in front of me?
It became painfully clear the man in front of me wasn’t from the security company when a very excited young woman came rushing toward him.
This was my client.
This was Rory Kissinger.
That I knew without a doubt.
“I can’t believe you got here before me,” she squealed. And throwing her arms around him, she then added, “You really must love me after all.”
Are you kidding me?
This guy really was Rory Kissinger’s fiancé! They must have had a lover’s quarrel, and that was why he’d practically fucked me with his eyes.
In my book that was about as close to cheating as any man could ever come. I shot him a look of disgust, but that wasn’t enough. It didn’t stop the anger I was feeling from building. His fiancé deserved to know just how despicable he really was.
There was no way in hell I was ever going to allow this cheat to be my client. In fact, this guy really needed to be taught a lesson.
“I can’t believe you,” I hissed.
That bottom lip pouted again. “Believe what?” he somehow managed to ask around the body that was wrapped around him.
His fiancé’s body, that was.
All the tension and anxiety I had been feeling for weeks unfurled within me, and before I could stop myself, I had the cute little silver-rimmed plate in my hand with the giant piece of chocolate cake still sitting upon it. And then as if I’d snapped, I was lifting the plate in an arcing motion. “This!” I said with deep satisfaction.
The kitchen door pushed open while I was midway in swing, and I heard Montgomery’s thick accent. “Dr. Kiss, what are you doing here?”
Dr. Kiss.
Who in the ever-loving world was Dr. Kiss?
Could it be this man wasn’t Rory’s fiancé, but rather someone Rory loved, and an acquaintance of Montgomery’s, as well?
Dr. Kiss.
Oh my God!
Kiss, as in Kissinger.
A relative.
No!
No!
No!
Suddenly, my uncle’s voice echoed in my ear. “Always do your research so you can anticipate your client’s needs.”
And I had. Or I thought I had. But what I hadn’t done was Google any images of my clients, and that would have been so easy. For goodness’ sake, I had just searched Rory’s fiancé on my phone. All I had to do was click on images.
Oh no!
Another wave of panic struck me. The groom-to-be was the governor’s son.
The governor’s son.
Oh my God, the press.
The bad press.
The fall out.
I would never land another job as long as I lived.
This could mean the end of my career if I didn’t turn this situation around.
Unfortunately, the perilous act I had planned on committing was already in motion. Much to my horror, I was smashing that substantial-sized piece of chocolate cake in this handsome stranger’s face before I could stop myself.
Rory jumped out of the way and started screaming at once. Montgomery shouted, “What are you doing, Juliette!” And then as if that wasn’t enough, the door was beeping again. A younger guy came inside with a t-shirt on, which apparently read TULANE UNIVERSITY across it.
Going to stand beside Rory, the younger man stared at me in shock like I was a lunatic, and then he turned to Rory and said, “What did he do now, honey?”
This guy had to be her fiancé.
Pulling the plate away as fast as I could,
I felt dumbstruck as the cake slowly fell in pieces all over Dr. Kiss’s shirt. Some of the morsels landed on the T, which I figured out was meant to represent Tulane University, not the security company.
That part was at least an understandable misunderstanding.
I might not have comprehended who everyone was, but I knew they had a connection to each other. Then again, did the specifics truly matter anymore? “I’m so sorry,” I apologized, setting the plate down.
In the way those icy blue eyes were glaring at me, I wasn’t sure what I should do. Taking both hands, he swiped across his nose and then shook the frosting from his fingertips. “What the hell was that for?”
Quickly dropping down to my knees, I began to pick up the morsels from the ground. When I looked up, more cake fell and landed on my own face. I ignored it and tried to answer him. “I . . . I . . . I have no idea what came over me. I thought . . . well . . . I thought . . . you were the groom-to-be and that you were coming on to me,” I confessed.
He used his fingers to wipe the cake from his own lips this time. “And what? You were going to put me in my place with a piece of chocolate cake? How old are you? Twelve?”
There was no way to explain that the butterflies he had given me were something I hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever, and then when I thought he was only screwing with me, well, I overreacted.
He was right. I had not only responded impulsively, but immaturely. Feeling like there was nothing further I could say that would make any sense, I stood up and glanced around for something to clean him up with. “I’ll get some towels.”
Rory had stopped screeching at least, but now she started laughing. I tried to catch her attention, and when I did, I silently begged her to stop. Instead, though, she strode around the table to get a little closer and then crooked a finger to swipe up some of the cake. That was on his face. Her laughter was out of control. I was at a loss for what to do. Dr. Kiss then glared at her too, but she didn’t seem to care one bit, which was evident when she licked the frosting from her finger and made a Mmmm that’s delicious noise.
Her fiancé, on the other hand, was still looking at Dr. Kiss with his mouth hanging open. “Remy,” she said to him as she took her place beside him once again. “Come on, you can laugh. It’s way too funny not to.”
Remy?
Not Kyle?
Or Robert?
Was there a third son I hadn’t found?
How had Google failed me?
With no time to worry about the fact that there was a messed up K on the cake where there had once been a glistening R, I started grabbing all the decorative dishtowels that were scattered around the counters. I thought about crying while I did.
I should never have doubted Montgomery.
The cake.
My client.
My life.
Once I had all the towels I could find, I rushed back to the center of the room and attempted to pat the remaining cake from Dr. Kiss’s face. Montgomery was there as well and trying to ease the situation.
As to be expected, Dr. Kiss shrugged away from me. “I’ll do it myself,” he gritted through his teeth.
It wasn’t a peace offering, but I held out one of the towels, and much to my surprise, he took it.
On my heels, Archer had come into the room and grabbed another towel from my hand to assist in removing the chocolate from his face.
When it became evident removing the cake wasn’t going to be an easy job, Montgomery said, “Come on, Doc, let’s go in the kitchen and get this mess cleaned up.”
The glare Montgomery shot me while speaking made me feel like a child who was about to get scolded.
Even though there was absolutely no way I would be getting this job after what I’d done, I had to atone for my actions in some way. Somehow. And to do so I needed to do more than offer a simple ‘I’m Sorry’.
I had acted impulsively.
Just as I was about to try to give a better explanation for my actions, not that I could just out and say I was attracted to him, Rory chased after Dr. Kiss, and somehow managed to speak around her laughter. “Looks like I’m not the only one you pissed off today, brother.”
Her brother.
Of course, Dr. Kiss was her brother.
I sighed. I wished she’d told me about him. Instead, her emails had stated the appointment would be with the groom-to-be, her, and myself, only. When I asked if she was sure she didn’t want to invite a family member along, she had been rather adamant she would be doing this alone.
Unmistakably, she’d changed her mind, which of course, was her prerogative. If there was any doubt that I hadn’t lost the job, it vanished right then.
Her brother was apparently here for a reason—to help her make a decision. And I’d just lost his vote.
Stopping just before the kitchen door, Dr. Kiss jerked his head toward her. “This isn’t funny, Rory. As soon as I get cleaned up, I’m out of here.”
“Come on, Jake,” she whined, “you can’t go. We haven’t even listened to the wedding planner’s proposal.”
More chocolate fell from his lips as he spoke. “Trust me, I’ve heard and seen enough.”
“But the cake, didn’t you see the cake?” she pointed. “It’s perfect.” Clearly, she was impressed. And clearly she loved what he had not.
Perhaps there was hope after all.
After rubbing his chin and leaving a stain of chocolate behind, her brother narrowed his gaze at her. “Not even an hour ago you told me you wanted a vintage wedding with antique Louis Vuitton suitcases and a classic Rolls Royce. How the hell do birds fit in that picture?”
“They don’t,” she answered almost contritely.
Wait! No birds?
I glanced from the cake to my dress, and my frown turned even deeper.
When was this day going to be over?
Those eyebrows of his rose as if to say I told you so. At least there wasn’t any cake stuck on them.
Rory bounced on her toes over to the cake. “But that’s only because I changed my mind. If I hadn’t, this is exactly what I would have wanted. And besides, if you’d been listening to me the past few weeks, which you clearly were not, you would have known that lovebirds were my first choice. I might not want them for my wedding theme any longer, but that doesn’t mean the cake didn’t still wow me.”
I had wowed her.
At least there was that.
“Rory.” His tone was authoritative, and by the way his sister practically stamped her feet, it was painfully obvious he was the decision maker.
I was so screwed.
And not in the way I had thought I might be only minutes ago.
CHAPTER FOUR
Speak of the Devil
JAKE KISSINGER
IT WASN’T LIKE VANILLA WAS my thing, but right now I would have fucking given anything for it.
The water ran cold as I cupped my hands and splashed my face one last time. I’d been bitch-slapped, sucker-punched, even head-butted, but I’d never had anyone smash cake in my face.
It was a first.
And I hoped, a last.
I turned the faucet off and licked my lips. At last, the taste of chocolate had faded. And although it wasn’t fully gone, there was the comforting fact that it wasn’t in my nostrils any longer.
Monty handed me a dry towel. “Juliette can be a bit impulsive.”
Taking the terrycloth from him, I patted my skin dry. “Juliette,” I said, liking the way her name rolled over my tongue, and hating that I did, “is much more than impulsive.”
Grabbing for my shirt, he took my vacated place at the sink and started scrubbing at the chocolate stains. “Yes, I’ll admit she can also be a bit feisty, but she means well.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I told him, pointing to my shirt.
He paused to glance over at me. “Maybe you could give her a second chance and listen to her proposal?”
I slid the towel down my neck and wiped away the excess water
that dripped down onto my bare chest. I didn’t know Monty at all. He’d been my patient last week, and I was sure he was a decent guy, but I had to call a spade a spade. “Look, I’m sure your daughter has the heart of an angel, but right now I just want to clean myself up and get the hell out of here.”
The shirt was as spotless as it was going to get, and he handed it to me. “Juliette isn’t my daughter, but I’ve known her since she was fourteen, and I can attest to the fact that she is more than competent when it comes to her job. She’s also very passionate about her work, and from what I can tell about your sister, I think she would love working with Juliette.”
Shrugging the damp shirt over my head, I tucked it into my jeans and then looked directly at him. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to allow that woman to pitch her services to my sister after the fiasco that just took place?”
Monty eased back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Dr. Kiss, haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
I mirrored his pose, kicking my Adidas out and leaning beside him to link my arms. “More times than I care to admit.”
The shift in his gaze from myself to the door was anything but inconspicuous. “If you could take back the things you did that caused them to be mistakes, would you?”
Running a hand through my hair, I spoke honestly. “Sure, some of them. Heck, most of them.”
After I responded, Monty fell silent a few long moments, but then he asked, “Do you go to church?”
Everyone from the south went to church. Even if you spent the majority of your youth in the north, if you had ties to Georgia, you went to church. Not at all liking the direction this conversation was going in, I paused for a moment, cocked my head to the side, and then answered with a, “I did when I was a kid.”
“So you’re familiar with the Bible?”
“Look,” I said, “I know what you’re getting at.”
“Good, then you won’t have a problem hearing her out.”
I straightened. “I’ve had a long week, and I have to be back in the ER for another twelve-hour shift at five.”
He glanced at his watch. “You still have plenty of time to hear at least a few of Juliette’s ideas for your sister’s upcoming wedding. I know she feels terrible about what she’s done, and will want to make it up to you.”
