Sweet as Pie (Spring Hills Book 1)
Page 14
But Tanner doesn’t seem pleased, and he looks at me and says, “Who’s this fella?” I hold back my giggle and say, “Tanner, that’s Ryker. And, Ryker, that’s Tanner you’re sitting next to. And next to Tanner is Sam. And then down the line, you have Rachel, and Shane on the end.”
He turns to face the row of kids, all smiling, except for Tanner, and he says, “Hey kids, nice to meet you.”
Tanner looks back at Ryker and narrows his eyes at him before saying in his best gangster voice. “S’up.”
“Ryker is new to baking,” I tell the class, “so maybe you kids can help him if he gets stuck, all right?” They all bust into giggles. Except Tanner.
I continue, “OK. Today we’re making sugar cookies with yummy lemon icing. We’ll use cookie cutters! And trust me when I say, these cookies are addictive. I even brought my special drawstring shorts to wear.” I pull them out from under the counter, and dangling them in the air, I add, “Because I know I’m gonna have a full belly when I gobble them all up like Cookie Monster!”
All the kids giggle again, but when I look over at Ryker, he pins me with his fiery eyes, and it heats me from across the counter. I swallow.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
We are not going down that road.
We make the dough, telling jokes and sharing stories. Then I put the dough in the refrigerator to chill for a couple of hours. And I grab the pre-chilled cookie dough I already made and froze a few weeks ago, to prepare for this class, which thawed in the fridge this morning.
All is going well, and we roll out the dough. Ryker reaches for the rocket ship cookie cutter, and just as he puts his hand on it, Tanner slaps his hand on top of Ryker’s and looks at him and says, “That’s mine, dude.”
Ryker looks back at him, pretending to be scared and slides his hand out from under Tanner’s. He nods. “OK. My bad. It’s yours.”
Tanner takes the rocket cookie cutter and sets it next to his station. Then he picks up a flower-shaped cookie cutter and hands it to Ryker. “Here, this one’s more your style.” And a hearty guffaw escapes my mouth, but then Tanner looks over at me. I guess he wasn’t trying to be funny. I bite my lip and turn to the other kids. “Which cookie cutters do you like?” Rachel opts for a truck, Shane chooses the heart, and Sam grabs a bear.
As the kids are busy cutting cookies out of the dough. I can’t help but steal glances at Ryker as often as I can. What’s not to like? He’s a young, hot, playful, sexy ’n’ hard, muscled billionaire. Who is also an amazing kisser. I mean, seriously. It kind of irks me that I’m not going for him, guns blazing. But alas, I can’t, and I sigh. I’m not getting into any relationship, or getting distracted, until I’m financially independent. With that settled in my mind, I return my focus to the class.
I put their cookies into the oven, and while they’re baking, the kids hang out at the counter. The boys are playing with their Baby Yoda figurines, and the girls are drawing on paper placemats with a set of washable markers I keep here for this purpose. Ryker is cracking jokes with the kids, and they’re laughing at him. And, although Tanner is pretending to keep an eye on Ryker, there’s no doubt they all like him.
Then, I glance over and see Ryker gently elbow Tanner. “So hey,” he says to Tanner and nods in my direction, “I kinda think Ms. Aspen is pretty. Do you think she’ll go out with me if I ask her? Maybe you can help me out. Talk her into going on a date with me.” Ryker winks at Tanner, and Tanner’s eyes grow wide. At first, he wrinkles his eyebrows. But when it sets in that Ryker has selected him to be his wingman, Tanner puffs with pride.
I pretend I’m not watching, but I’m listening to everything they say, and Tanner says to Ryker, “Yeah, she’s real pretty. But my ma is always warning how Ms. Aspen is a busy lady, and we’re not to give her any trouble.” Tanner eyes me, and I play like I’m busy with the girls, and he whispers to Ryker, “But maybe if you give her the cookies you make today… cuz she said how much she likes them, and it’s important to be a good listener. Women like that. Then maybe Ms. Aspen will go on a date with you.”
Ryker leans in and says, “Thanks, man. That’s a good idea. I’ll try it.” Tanner beams with so much pride he grows an inch, and my resolve to ignore Ryker’s flirting vanishes like a magician’s coin.
Before I throw myself at him, I leave Ryker with the kids and go into the kitchen to take the cookies out of the oven. As I transfer them to cooling racks, I hear Tanner say to the other kids, “Hey, Mr. Ryker has a crush on Ms. Aspen!” And they all fall into hysterical giggles.
Ryker laughs, “Dude, Tanner! Bro!”
Tanner replies, “Sorry, Mr. Ryker, I can’t keep secrets.” Ryker belts out a deep, hearty laugh that I can feel from the kitchen, and I quite literally swoon. My heart goes as soft as room-temperature butter, and my belly flutters.
I walk back out to the dining area with the ingredients for the icing, and I teach everyone how to mix up their own batch in a bowl. I also get out five different jars of sprinkles they can use, which garners a gazillion ooh’s and ahhh’s from the kids, with a few thrown in from Ryker as he looks at me… not the sprinkles. But he’s not fooling anyone, and the kids laugh at him, pointing fingers at him for fun.
Once it’s time to frost and decorate, they settle down and focus on their projects. While Ryker frosts his cookies, some frosting runs down his finger, and he looks at the kids to make sure no one is looking before he flashes his radiant emerald eyes at me. Then, he proceeds to seductively lick it off. My traitorous body springs wetness between my legs, and my pussy starts to throb. Shit. I cross my legs and shift my stance, trying to quell the desire flooding my nether region.
I lean on the counter for support, and he chuckles a low groan. The kids turn their heads to look at him, and he quickly recovers, “Hey kids, what’s your favorite animal sound? Mine is the silverback gorilla!” And he makes the groaning sound again, this time while beating his chest… still watching me. The kids laugh hysterically, and start shouting their own favorite animal sounds.
Good save, Ryker.
I fully admit it now.
I’m in trouble.
When the decorating is done, the kids have their cookies packed up in plastic baggies. As their parents come and get them, Tanner pulls Ryker aside and says, “Remember to give her your cookies.” They bump fists, and I crack up inside.
After a few minutes, it’s just the two of us in the bistro. Ryker strides over to the counter and sits down, looking at me like he’s plotting something. He takes his plate of cookies and pushes them toward me. “I have it on good authority that I might have a chance for a date with you, if I give you my cookies.”
I waver but then push the cookies back to him and say, “Consider this class as your date.” I load dirty dishes, bowls, and cooking utensils onto a tray and carry them into the kitchen. He stands up and grabs some things himself and jumps to washing dishes for me, while I wipe down the counters and sweep the floor. It’s amazing how much mess kids can make.
I grab one of my cookies and munch away on it, licking the crumbs off my lips. It’s the perfect cookie. Lightly sweet, slightly soft in the middle, a crispy golden edge, and a thin glaze of powdered sugar icing with a few colorful sprinkles for crunch. I should have these available in the rooms at the bed-and-breakfast, in cute little decorative bags. They’d also be fun for holidays in the bistro.
I walk back into the kitchen to put away the broom and dustpan. I see his wide shoulders and back to me, and I think about the homeless shelter. “So, Ryker, do you happen to know anything about a $1 million anonymous donation to the homeless shelter in town?”
He slowly turns around and leans back against the sink, crossing one leg in front of the other. “I might,” he says and shrugs with a playful smile.
“I thought so.”
And that’s all I need to know. He just gets better and better. I want to kiss him so badly. I want him to kiss me. I want more than a kiss!
But I slow my roll.
And how would I even find the time? I don’t want to feel guilty that I’m too busy running a business to be available for him. I’ve seen relationships like that, where one person is busier than the other, and it causes conflict.
I sigh… I sure like the way he looks at me.
And then, against my better judgment, I make a decision.
“Um, Ryker, I’ve gotta go run an errand.” I take off my apron, grab my purse, and in my hustle to get us out the door, I don’t give him a chance to say anything. Once outside, I lock the door and jog off to my car, calling over my shoulder, “It was nice seeing you! Bye!”
I’m on a mission.
I jump in my car and speed off.
To the dress shop.
18
Ryker
I sit across from my dad’s desk as he brings me up to speed on the intellectual property practice at his law firm. The IP lawyers here, Lois and Alek, have a lot of experience, mostly automotive and software.
“They’ll be leaning on you for your subject matter expertise,” my dad says. “And they’ll teach you the ins and outs of researching prior art and strategies for filing, like whether to go narrow or broad.”
I have a vague inkling of what he’s talking about. But just because I have a law degree and passed the bar, doesn’t mean I’m a lawyer. Well, OK, technically it does mean I’m a lawyer… but I’ve never worked one day in a law firm. I couldn’t tell you how to work the copy machine.
“You sure I’m the right guy for this, Dad? I’m not a cryptographer, or an engineer. I really only know enough about blockchain to be dangerous.”
“Welcome to the world of professional services, son. As an associate, we’ll bill you at $250 an hour to learn whatever you need to know, on the job. Also, Lois was a double-E in undergrad, and Alek knows networking and telecom, but I guarantee you know more than both of them about blockchain. The three of you will make a good team.”
He leans forward and pushes a two-inch-thick, red file folder toward me. It says “Blackstar” on it.
“A little light reading, to get you started,” he chuckles.
I lean forward and take the file, when there’s a knock at the door. I turn around to see Max Penrose walk in. He’s a partner at the firm, estate planning, I think. He comes up next to me and slaps me on the back. “Hey, Ryker. Good to see you, man. I heard your dad kicked your ass in golf.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t say he kicked my ass. It was close.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t have any interesting plans for the summer, since you’ll be here all the time.”
I imagine Aspen, with her blond hair flowing over her shoulders, and her juicy, red lips begging to be kissed. Oh, I have plans all right.
No, I didn’t have any plans for the summer.
Or my life.
Which I’d previously thought was a splendid thing, until, well, I thought about it. And I realized how bored I am. So now, apart from the upcoming Spartan race, I’m also looking forward to being in the office, working on the blockchain patents Dad mentioned. I’m not sure what I hope to get out of this… I don’t see myself devoting my career to being a patent attorney. I’m not even sure what the word “career” means to a billionaire. But it doesn’t matter; I lost a bet to my dad, and I’m looking forward to the next couple of months. It’ll be something new.
I head to my office with the new file and settle in to work. A few hours later, Dad knocks on the door, and I lift up my head. “Want to get some lunch?” he asks.
I look at my watch, and I’m surprised to see the time has flown by. This case is interesting. “Actually, Dad, I want to stay here and work on this. I’ve got some calls to make. But I ordered lunch for everybody from Gabby’s Rooster, so help yourself in the kitchen. The quiche and pie are amazing.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Oh you did, did you?” And he takes this as a cue to sit down. I stop the clock on my computer’s billing software, and I lean back in my chair.
“Is there something else you want to talk about?” I tease, knowing full well why he’s here.
“So, how are things going with Aspen?”
“They’re moving along.” I fill him in on the baking class, and how she’ll be at the Chamber of Commerce Silent Auction on Wednesday.
“Have you told her yet?” he asks in his stern, paternal voice.
Right. Popster’s house. I take a deep breath. “No. I’ll figure that out later, after she falls in love with me. That seems like a safer approach.”
He shakes his head, doubtful. “I don’t know, Ryker. But you know her better than I do, so you’ll have to follow your gut.”
I force a smile, and he says, “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” He stands up and adds, “A couple of the partners will be coming to the silent auction with Nancy and me. I expect to see most of the business owners from town there. And knowing your mother, she’ll be there. She can’t miss out on a town event.” He sighs and shakes his head, but then laughs.
“I figured she’ll be there,” I say.
“Rumor has it,” he says, “she’s got trouble in her little paradise right now.”
“Maybe karma finally caught up with her.”
“From what I hear, she’s up to her old ways,” he says as he walks out. He doesn’t seem disturbed in the least, which relaxes me.
I get back to work on the patent case. I grab my pencil and start marking up the file with notes and questions for things to follow up on. Before I know it, another hour has passed, and my stomach rumbles. I stand up and stretch, then make my way to the small kitchen and break room everybody in the office shares.
I see two associates in our firm, Ronald and Maria, enjoying the ham quiche and cherry pie I ordered from Aspen and Gabby’s restaurant. I smile because everyone likes it, but of course they do. I should tell them to write reviews on Yelp. But wait, would that piss her off because I’d be helping her? Maybe I should hold back a bit. I just want her to succeed so badly though. I love seeing her smile, and she’s so good at what she does. She deserves everything she’s working for.
I walk over to the counter and dish a slice of each for myself. I convince myself that I need carbs, too, and since this is the closest I’ll get to eating her pie—for now—I’ll take what I can get. I would laugh at my joke, but I’m dead serious. I’ve fallen asleep every night for the past two weeks imagining my face between her legs, tasting her sweet wetness, giving her more pleasure than she’s ever known. Now, whenever I bite into her cherry pie, it’s impossible not to think about it. The two are linked in my mind.
I’m standing at the counter, eating, minding my own business, and I’m halfway through my piece of quiche, when I overhear Maria tell Ronald about one of her divorce cases. “You won’t believe the way this woman is going after my client’s money,” she says and cackles. “The monster, soon-to-be ex-wife is going after half of everything he came to the marriage with on his own! And because my client is an idiot, she just might get a good chunk of it.” She throws her arms up in the air, exasperated. “Did he listen when I advised him to have a prenup? Noooooo, he was in love. Dumb ass.”
Ronald says to Maria, “You had a case like that last year, too, right?”
“Yes!” she says. “They never learn. I tried to tell my client yesterday about that, too, warning him of what’s likely to happen since he didn’t follow my advice.”
Ronald chimes in, “I think when people get married, they should just plan on getting divorced because that seems to happen more often, especially when large sums of money are involved. Do the prenup! Money does shitty things to people, especially people afraid to be on their own.”
I feel a little nauseous, and I put down my fork. It wasn’t long ago when I was certain I would never marry, because of the risk
of a woman going after me only for my money. Sure, I could sign a prenuptial agreement but, fuck, that just seems to increase the odds of a divorce. It’s like you’re planning for it to fail. I hate it. It’s a lose-lose situation.
My collar feels tight, and I loosen my tie. I mean, if I married a billionairess, then it wouldn’t be an issue. I laugh, because the only woman I want is Aspen, and she doesn’t even want my money, probably likes me less for even having it. But Ronald’s words echo in my mind, about money doing strange things to people. And it’s true. I’ve heard enough stories from my dad over the years about the divorce cases in his office. It can get ugly.
I head back to my office, feeling a little jittery, and wishing I were either in the gym, or at home on my deck with a beer. I sit down at my desk and crack my knuckles. Might as well dive into work. Maybe that will distract me.
But ten minutes later, I’m still obsessing. Now I wonder if I’m stupid to go after Aspen. I see the way she looks at me, and I can feel heat radiate off her body when she’s next to me, but she’s told me enough times that she’s not interested in a relationship. Maybe I should just listen to her, and let it go.
Let her go.
It’s not that she doesn’t like me, because I know she does. Rather, she won’t do anything about it. She’s not acting on it. And she seems pleased as punch to deny herself. I clench my fists as I ponder my decision to pursue her. Maybe I’m the stupid one.
Aspen has a one-track mind, and who knows how long she’ll be that way. It might seem fun for now, but can I see myself still chasing her like this a year from now? I don’t want to regret all the time I spent doing it. Especially if it ends up going nowhere.
I rub my face with my hands and groan. Well, this isn’t anything I have to decide right now, and fuck me, I’m dying to taste more of her—in every damn way. I’d like to believe she’s the one for me, and that true love conquers all. But who knows?