Flawed ~ Kim Karr

by Kim Karr

  Once the evidence was gone, I stood directly in front of the cake and slowly pivoted around on my toes. Ready or not, it was time to meet Rory Kissinger and her fiancée. I didn’t have a plan on how to address the smudge mark on the cake, but I hoped they wouldn’t notice.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Wide-eyed, I found myself looking at only one person, not two. A current ran up my spine, and for a moment I wondered if I knew him, but when I couldn’t place him, I shook it off. “Oh, you didn’t,” I finally managed, the mistruth forcing me to avert my gaze.

  Still walking across the lobby, he hadn’t quite made it to the showroom entrance. “Well, even so, I apologize if I disturbed your work,” he said.

  Busted. I was busted. I had lied, and worse, he knew it.

  Could he see the smudge all the way from there?

  Oh, God.

  Feeling my body flushing, I forced a smile on my face. “Apology accepted even though it isn’t needed,” I responded, feeling foolish the minute those silly words left my mouth.

  “Can I come in?” This stranger didn’t have a southern accent, but he definitely had the southern charm.

  When I swung my gaze back to answer, he was closing the distance between us. Our eyes met, and for some utterly bizarre reason, the connection felt physical.

  All of a sudden, his brow creased, and he stopped in his tracks. Had he felt it too? Perhaps just as confused as I was, he flicked his gaze away from mine and then pouted his bottom lip. It was as if he didn’t like the static between us.

  The flirtatious hot guy in front of me wasn’t my client, but despite the fact that this should have calmed me down, my heart began to pound, and I felt that flush rush all the way up my neck. Not that it mattered what color I was because the hunk wasn’t looking at me. He was doing his best to put the cake back in his line of vision.

  There was still a fair distance between us, and I think the magnificence of the cake had captured his attention. That was fine because it gave me time to stare at him a bit longer than would ordinarily be socially acceptable.

  Tall. Dark. Handsome. Very handsome.

  Actually, he was drop-dead gorgeous. And that mouth. His lips. They looked absolutely kissable.

  With his partially wet hair the color of milk chocolate spiked forward, and only somewhat combed, it appeared unruly, like he didn’t give a you know what. Maybe he’d recently taken a shower and hadn’t had time to finish styling it, nor had he had time to shave for that matter. He had quite the five o’clock shadow for two in the afternoon.

  The fact he appeared ‘undone’ somehow gave him a sexier edge, if that was even possible.

  His rebel good looks, along with his dark sunglasses, made him look like the kind of guy your mother warned you about.

  Trouble.

  Give him a leather jacket and a cigarette, and he could have been James Dean.

  There was a blue T located in the upper right of his shirt with a lighter blue wave rushing over the top. Not that I would never know, but my best guess was that was the logo for his employer.

  The had-to-be security company employee must have come around the front when no one answered in the back. Montgomery and Archer were probably out back arguing over the slice of cake and waiting for him to return. They’d figure it out soon enough.

  Not that it mattered. I could keep him occupied for a few minutes. It wouldn’t be that great of a hardship.

  The hot technician had stopped in the doorway and was standing there with one hand on the doorjamb at a point high enough to stretch his long, lean body.

  I felt like I should pose in some way. Cock a hip, hold my chin up, anything to get his attention. However, before I could come up with something that wouldn’t make me look like a hooker without heels, his gaze shifted my way, and he caught me staring.

  Living in the moment, I pushed my small chest forward and placed a hand on my hip. Okay, I probably looked like a girl getting ready to hitchhike. All I had to do was stick my thumb out.

  Great.

  “May I?” he asked.

  Oh, right, he had asked a question. “Yes, of course, come in,” I answered.

  Either not noticing or not paying any attention to my ridiculous pose, he pointed to the cake. “That’s quite a showpiece.”

  Stepping aside to show it off, I felt very proud that I had helped with the creation, no matter how small my part had been. That was until I noticed the way he had stuck his bottom lip out in a pout once again.

  Keeping my gaze fixed on him, I watched him bite that same lip, as if in contemplation. Then with a slight cock of his head, he finally said, “Birds, huh.”

  It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t said with excitement, either. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. After a moment, I decided he must be overwhelmed. “Lovebirds,” I clarified, not sure why that mattered. It was just my body was buzzing, and I had to say something.

  As if he were done admiring the cake from afar, he eased slightly forward. One foot balanced his entire weight while his other leg bent to take a step inside the showroom, and then slowly he strode toward me.

  Entirely unlike me, I found myself watching each step he took. With a body like that the man must work out, like all day, every day. There was no other explanation for how a guy could look that damned good. I had dibs on the fact the security job was part-time.

  His sunglasses were still on, and although the sunlight might not have been blinding, he was. I couldn’t help but take him all in. Those sexy low-slung jeans, and the way they sat on his hips. The gray T-shirt that molded to his muscled chest and was snug around his bulging upper arms.

  When he rounded the large wooden table, he stroked over his sexy stubble. “They look real,” he said, his tone skeptical at best.

  Trying not to laugh, I slanted him a sideways glance as he moved a little closer to the table. “They’re not stuffed, if that’s what you are thinking. The master baker is an excellent artist, and he sculpted them out of fondant.”

  While looking at the cake, he took another step around the table, and this time he removed his sunglasses as if he needed to get a better look. “So you didn’t make this?”

  Nervous for no reason at all, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “No, definitely not. I’m not even sure when the last time I baked a cake was. It might have been in my Easy Bake oven.”

  That earned me a sexy smirk, but then his lip pouted again as his gaze swung my way. That mouth was something to look at, but those eyes. He was close enough now that I could see them. They were blue. Really, really blue, but they were also a little red around the rims. “Sorry, you were, well . . . I saw you . . . I just thought—” he trailed off, looking sheepish, and then he shook his head. “Never mind.”

  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 fiancée! 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 fiancée 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 fiancée’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 fiancée, 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 fiancée 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 fiancée.

  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 fiancée, 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.