She was fascinated by this.
“So him dusting her end tables is romantic,” Jane said. She said “dusting her end tables” with innuendo that her fiancé would have been very proud of. Clearly Dax was rubbing off on her.
Zoe laughed. “For sure.”
Josie shook her head. “There’s more.”
Whitney looked at her. “There is?”
Josie gave her a smug smile. “The baking.”
“He does that for Didi,” Whitney said. “She told him she’s missed Letty’s recipes all these years, so he’s making them for her.”
“Oh,” Zoe said, her voice soft and her expression touched. “That’s so nice. That she’s missed them and that he’s doing that.”
Whitney agreed. “It is. She loves it.”
“But,” Josie said. “He’s been doing more cookies and bars lately, right?”
Whitney looked at her suspiciously. “How did you know that?”
“Because you haven’t gotten any from me in a while,” Josie said with a grin.
“Well, he’s…” Whitney thought about what Josie was clearly implying.
“He’s been baking the ones you like.” Josie sighed. “You’re getting them from home and don’t need me anymore.”
“Hold on,” Zoe said, scooting forward in her chair. “You bake for her on the side?”
“No. We’ve been secretly selling her Buttered Up products for a long time.”
Zoe frowned, then her eyes widened. “What?”
Whitney’s eyes were also wide. “You knew?” She’d always been so careful. She’d paid two little girls to go into the bakery for her.
Josie laughed. “I knew. The Swanson girls spilled the beans the second time they ever came in for you.”
Whitney groaned. “You must have thought I was an idiot.”
Josie shook her head and looked at Zoe. “No. I always thought the feud between your families was ridiculous, but I respected it.”
Whitney nodded her agreement over the ridiculous part. “But you never told Zoe?” She looked at the other woman.
“I would have forbidden her from selling them to you,” Zoe said with a little frown.
“And no one should go without our sugar cookies, and caramel bars, and cinnamon rolls,” Josie said. “So I kept quiet.”
Whitney gave her a smile, but she focused on Zoe again. “You would have forbidden her to sell to me?”
Zoe nodded. Then shrugged. “I was pretty stubborn and bitchy about your family and Hot Cakes. Until Aiden.”
Whitney saw the softness in Zoe’s expression when she mentioned her fiancé. “I’m glad that’s changed.”
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Really. It makes having you and your grandma here for dinner a lot less awkward.”
They all laughed lightly, but Whitney couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think Cam would have brought Didi here if you still felt the same way about Hot Cakes?”
Zoe snorted. “For sure. Cam’s never shied away from something just because it’s awkward or tense. He loves a good confrontation.” She grew quiet, regarding Whitney for a long moment, then said, “Until recently.”
Whitney wet her lips, but didn’t say anything. The attention shifted fully to her.
“Yeah,” Jane said softly. “That’s romantic.”
“What is?” Whitney asked.
“When a man changes because of how he feels about a woman. Not that he becomes an entirely new man, but when he becomes… a better version of himself.”
Whitney felt her throat and chest tighten. Had she done that for Cam? He’d definitely done it for her. She was more confident, more willing to speak up, more willing to believe she was valued.
He’d said that she made him softer. She’d really thought that was Didi but… maybe not. Maybe she was influencing him for the better too.
Josie, the hopeful romantic, sighed happily next to Whitney. “This is nice,” she said, settling back in her seat. “I’m so glad I have you girls.”
And damn if Whitney didn’t believe she was a part of that.
19
They were home and Didi was upstairs listening to an audiobook forty-five minutes later.
Whitney joined Cam in the kitchen after settling her grandmother. She slid up onto the tall stool at the breakfast bar and watched him put the leftovers from Maggie in the fridge.
“I had fun tonight.”
He looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. “I could tell when you came back in that the patio time was good. I’m glad.”
She nodded and ran a finger over the swirl pattern in the marble of the counter top. “So I guess the point of girl talk is to get advice, compare notes, or rant,” Whitney said.
He came to stand across from her. “Makes sense.”
“I didn’t really have any work notes to compare. I do that with you guys.”
“Okay.”
“And I didn’t have anything to rant about. My new bosses are pretty great and things are good with my grandma and my mom and dad are in Dallas and I’ve barely talked to them and they don’t have anything to really do with my stuff anymore.”
“That’s all good.”
She nodded. It was good. Very good.
“And I only need advice on one thing. And I think I have another friend who can give even better advice about that than they could.”
Cam braced his hands on the counter, his muscles flexing, distracting her for a moment. “You got something you need to ask Piper about?”
“Nope.”
“Paige?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then who?”
“You.”
He seemed to have been expecting that. One corner of his mouth curled. “You know I’m here for whatever you need.”
That made her heart thunk at the same time it made heat curl through her lower stomach. She nodded. “I know that.”
“So what do you need advice on?”
“Well, there’s this guy.”
That curl to his lip turned into more of a smirk. “I do know something about guys.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I would very much like to know what you think I should do with this one.”
“I think I can come up with a few suggestions.”
The curl of heat turned into more of a swoop. She smiled. “Good.”
“So is he hot?” Cam asked.
She laughed lightly. “Very. Though he knows it so there’s this cockiness about him too.”
“Is that a turn-off?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not exactly.”
He was still smiling but his gaze was more intense. “Have you told him how you feel?”
Her heart thunked again but there was a swirl of nerves along with this one. “Not in so many words. Not lately. But we have history.”
“Good or bad history?”
That was a great question. A year ago she would have said bad. Their time together had been wonderful but it had ended so painfully that the bad had colored the rest for a long time. “Good,” she finally answered. “There were some hard times, but they were important.”
“Yeah?”
“For sure.” She said it with surprising confidence. “I think we both realize that all of that had to happen to get us to where we are now. It’s a part of both of us.”
He gripped the edge of the counter, making his forearms bunch. He nodded. “That’s probably true. But it’s made things better now? Now that you’re back… together?” He met her eyes. “Or are you back together?”
“I think we’re coming back together,” she said softly but with an assurance that swept through her as she said the words out loud. “It’s interesting though… I think we both keep thinking our past has something to do with all this, but I’m not sure it does. We’re different people than we were before. It’s been a long time. A lot has happened to us both. It’s almost like we’ve met for the first time and have gotten to know each othe
r and have… started falling for each other for the first time.”
He looked at her, saying nothing for long seconds, then suddenly pushed back from the counter top, straightening. “You’re falling for him?”
She nodded.
“And you think he’s falling for you?”
She nodded again.
That should have felt scary. He’d said he was crazy about her, but that wasn’t love. Still… she felt it. She felt it in the way he encouraged her with work, the way he took care of her from the little things like the way her room smelled to the way he made her grandmother smile to the way he called her grandmother out when she was being mean. It was in the way he looked at her. Strangely, it was in the way he hadn’t gotten them both naked yet.
“So what advice do you need?” he asked. His voice was gruff now and his gaze was burning into hers. Even across the granite countertop she could feel the heat.
“I guess I just want to know if you think he’ll be annoyed that I’ve changed my mind.”
He arched a brow. “About?”
“I made a big deal about not wanting to get involved because I wanted to focus on work, but… I’ve changed my mind. I’m still very focused on work, and I’m really proud of what I’m doing there, but”—she took a deep breath—“I want him.”
Cam’s eyes flared, and Whitney felt her reaction deep in her belly and between her legs.
She went on before he said anything. Or did anything. Because once he did something, she wasn’t going to want to talk much anymore.
“I want to be with him. And it’s amazing because he gets it. He wants me to be successful at work. He knows how important that is to me. But he’s fully supportive of it. Not just that, but he’s helping me make it work. He’s a part of all of that success. It feels like we’re a team and he’s totally behind me. I’m feeling like I—we—can have it all and I guess…” She took another breath. “I want to know how to let him know that.”
A muscle ticked along Cam’s jaw and he just stood looking at her, not saying a word.
She finally asked. “Do you think he’s going to be annoyed that I changed my mind?”
He cleared his throat. “No. I don’t think annoyed is how he’s going to feel about that.”
Then he stepped back and bent to open the cupboard under the breakfast bar. He pulled out a mixing bowl and the hand mixer. He got a spoon and a spatula from a drawer, then the measuring cups and spoons from another drawer. He set them all out on the counter between them. Without a word, he went into the pantry and came back with an armful of ingredients. He put them down before going to the refrigerator for butter and eggs.
She watched him measure everything out, melt the butter, and cream the eggs, butter and sugar before saying, “What are you doing?”
“Making chocolate chip cookie dough,” he said without looking up.
O-kay. She wasn’t worried here. At all. He wasn’t ignoring her. He hadn’t missed what she’d said. This wasn’t him blowing her off or changing the subject.
This was, somehow, part of the subject.
So she just watched him mix. Until he got to the point of adding the chips.
“No semisweet chips?” she asked.
He looked up. “No.”
“You use two kinds instead?”
He nodded. “Milk chocolate. The super sweet ones. And dark chocolate. A little more bitter and stronger. Together they make the overall semisweet flavor. But this way each bite has both distinct flavors.”
“That’s your secret with these cookies?”
“Part of it. Yeah.”
“From your grandma?”
“Nope. This is all mine. She liked mine better than her own.”
“Why do you like it this way better?” She somehow knew there was a reason.
“The semisweet chips aren’t really anything in particular. They’re kind of sweet and kind of dark. I think that if you’re going to be something you just be it. Be sweet. Be dark. But really be it.”
“People can’t be both? They can’t have times they feel sweet and times they feel dark?”
“Of course. But too often we try to cover the sweet times with a little self-deprecation or nonchalance because we don’t want to be too sweet. Or we try to cover our dark with more sugar because we don’t want to be too sad or too scary.”
“Like when we’re suddenly working from home and baking cookies with a friend’s grandma all day?”
He nodded without a smile. “We should embrace that. There’s nothing wrong with a soft, sweet side.”
There wasn’t. At all. It was hot as hell that this tough guy who loved to fight big corporations in court, who had tattoos and muscles and a smirk that wouldn’t quit and sarcasm that was as natural as breathing, had a secret to his chocolate chip cookies and had learned to love lemon drop martinis and liked looking at photo albums with his grandmother’s best childhood friend.
“And there’s nothing wrong with having a dark side sometimes,” he told her. “You don’t have to cover it up with sweetness. Sugar isn’t the answer to everything. It’s okay to be a little bitter, to have a little bite. It just makes the sweet stuff sweeter when it’s time for that.”
She nodded. He was right. Her being bitter about her family and the business and how things had been at Hot Cakes for the past ten years was okay. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t how she would have chosen it to be maybe. But it made everything now—her new bosses who were more like partners and were becoming friends, and their new ideas, and the new successes—even sweeter.
And the same was true with her and Cam. The little bit of bitterness between them was making this now sweeter.
“How long will those cookies for Didi take?” she asked. She assumed he was making them up now so they were done for when Didi woke up later. So that maybe he and Whitney could steal some time together before that happened.
“These aren’t for Didi,” he said. He met her eyes. “They’re your favorite, right?”
She swallowed. There was a heat in his eyes that she’d seen before, but there was something else there now. Something new.
Intention.
This wasn’t going to end with him pulling back and telling her that they couldn’t keep going.
“Yes,” she said. “Those are my favorite.” She wasn’t even going to ask how he knew that. She didn’t know if he remembered it from years ago or if Didi had told him or if he’d noticed that she’d eaten nearly a dozen of these when he’d made them before, whereas she’d only swiped maybe half a dozen of the others.
It didn’t matter. He’d been making cookies and bars for her. And, yes, Josie was right, that was romantic.
“You asked me what you should do with this guy you’re falling for,” he said.
She nodded.
“Take off your clothes.”
* * *
It was time.
He’d wanted to give her a chance to feel secure, to know he was here for her as a friend first, to figure out what she really wanted.
But… It. Was. Time.
Cam watched her take a deep breath and braced himself for her to lift her chin, gathering her nerve.
But she didn’t.
She slipped off the stool, stepped around the corner of the counter so she was facing him fully, and stripped her dress off.
The sweet little sundress that was nothing like those fucking corporate pencil skirts she wore that made him nuts.
His heart was thundering and he felt everything in his body tighten almost painfully. He wanted her. So much. She was gorgeous. Physically. Any man would think so. He’d always wanted her.
But now he wanted her. This woman. Not the girl he’d been missing for the past ten years, not the woman he’d run into here and there over the years when visiting Appleby, not the woman he’d thought he was sparring with in the offices at Hot Cakes. This woman.
The one he’d gotten to know better and watched grow and who now stood in front of him naked. Literall
y, but also figuratively. She was letting him in again and this time there was even more on the line than their parents finding out about them back in high school and making them break up.
It would have felt like the end of the world. It had felt that way when it had ended. But what they’d lost were stolen kisses and some messing around in the dark and some laughter and, yes, friendship. But kid friendship.
Now… if they messed this up it was so much more.
Now their hearts and their futures were wrapped up in all of this.
Now they really would lose a true friendship. With each other.
Yeah. That was true.
But if they did this… they could have all of this forever.
“You didn’t have panties on? This whole time?” he asked, his voice gruff, but trying to lighten the mood. Trying to make things playful and dirty. Because if he didn’t, he was going to propose to her and that might have been too much.
She also didn’t have a bra on so when she propped her hands on her hips, he could see everything.
Every-fucking-thing.
“I wore panties to your mother’s house for dinner with your family and my grandmother, of course,” she said, one eyebrow up. “I took them off upstairs when I brushed my teeth.”
He smirked. She’d been classy enough to have underwear on while having dinner with their families. Of course she had. Whitney Lancaster wouldn’t go to a family dinner without underwear on.
But she’d also taken them off—and brushed her teeth—before coming back down here to talk to him in the kitchen while he made cookies. Gee, what had she thought might happen? Maybe the take your clothes off hadn’t just been his idea. Maybe she’d been on her way to seduce him. He really liked that thought.
Semi-Sweet On You: Hot Cakes Series Page 27
